Then floated.
“Does this hurt your arm, your side?”
“No. Almost a hundred percent all around now.”
“You’re strong.”
“Getting there.”
She turned in the water, put her arms around him. “You’re strong,” she repeated. “Sasha and Bran are strong healers. So you can be well again. I was afraid. In the cave, even after.”
“Me, too. But here we are.”
“Yes.” She brought her lips to his. “Will you touch me? I miss having you touch me when you want
me.”
“I always want you.” He ran his hands over the sleek hair that fell past her waist, and under it to skin, over the strange and marvelous transition from skin to scale. Both smooth, both beautiful.
Automatically, he kicked his legs to keep them above water, then her tail curved around him and kept them both afloat.
“I wanted you the first time I saw you.”
She stroked his cheek. “This is truth?”
“Absolute truth. You were just a drawing in Sasha’s book, but I wanted you.” He found her lips again. “And when I saw you on the beach in Corfu, in the moonlight, in the white dress, I wanted you.”
“But you were only my friend.”
“I am your friend, but it wasn’t easy to stay only your friend.”
Her heart sighed, her body shivered when he cupped her breasts. “Why did you?”
“I thought it was the right thing for you. You had so much to learn. I didn’t want to confuse you.”
“I’m not confused.”
She rose higher in the water, offered her breasts to his lips. When he took them, she let her head fall back. Her hair flowed over the water—a black silk pool over the dark sea.
Strong, she thought again, and how she’d needed those strong hands on her. His mouth tasting her, feasting now in a way that showed her he desired.
The thrill poured into her, had her streaming up with him, to circle and spin on the surface.
She clung tight, pressed his head to her, spilled down again on a sighing moan. There she circled, circled slowly so the water flowed around them while their lips met, their tongues met, in a kiss gone suddenly urgent.
Her hands ran over him, her fingers tracing the healing wounds. “Does this hurt?”
“Nothing hurts.” But his blood pounded everywhere. “We need to go in to shore. I want to cover you. I want to fill you. God, I have to have you.”
“Would you have me here?”
“Yes. Yes.” Half mad for her, he ravaged her mouth. “Closer in. I need to be able to stand.”
“No, here.” She took his face in her hands to draw him back. She read the desire, the need, a mirror of her own. But . . .
“Would you want me, like this? Would you have me in my true form?”
“I want you, Anni. It’s you.”