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“So, uh, whatcha reading?” she asked as she took her time walking toward him.
Coby looked at the cover of the book as if he were studying the title. Sylvia realized she already knew the answer. Penny had just told her Thane had given him Poet’s diary. Again, she wished s
he could reach into her mouth and speedbag punch her tonsils to teach her to think before speaking.
“Never mind,” Sylvia said. “I’m sorry. Penny told me. Poet’s diary.”
She almost asked if he’d found anything juicy and thankfully thought better of it before she let the worlds fly.
“Mind if I sit next to you?” she asked.
He shrugged, and she took that as he didn’t mind. In the light, she got a much better look at her white knight and she decided he looked even better in broad daylight. His skin was almost milky white, but the grooves carved out from his muscles gave him a Greek-god like authority. He commanded respect and she knew she would never be able to look upon another man and see what she was seeing now. His arms bulged, and his chest was so wide and so thick with solid muscle that it practically hung like a set of drapes over his chiseled abs. This was the form a great white takes when in human costume. A life of swimming and hunting could only create something this magnificent. She’d seen sharks, had come face to face with them and had barely lived, yet, she thought she might find this one beautiful if she had the chance to see his other side.
Sylvia tucked her dress under her ass and used it to shield her panties from the damp sand beneath her.
“I never listened,” Coby said.
It took her a second to catch on that he was talking about the diary.
“I’ve heard his words are very powerful,” she said. “His nickname, Poet, it was well deserved.”
“He was a good man,” Coby said. “And I think he despised me for what I am, but I loved him. I kept tabs on him always. I knew he was here, and I could feel that he was happy. I always stayed close enough to connect with him mentally. When that connection was severed, I knew…”
Sylvia decided it was her turn to remain quiet. He could tell her everything, or he could tell her nothing, but it was his time to explain himself.
“He was my little brother,” Coby continued. “And I loved him.”
“I’m sure you did,” Sylvia said when it was clear he was not going to say anything else.
She feared she might have gotten as much conversation out of him as she was ever going to get. Penny had told her that sharks could communicate through their minds, telepathically, and it dawned on her that maybe he was so used to that form of talking that he found it a challenge to hold a discussion in human form.
“I wish you could talk to me with your mind,” she said. “Like you do with other sharks.”
She scooted closer to him, sitting cross-legged only a foot in front of him. She reached out and placed the fingertips of each hand against the temples at the sides of his head. He closed his eyes and she did the same.
“If I could talk to you mentally,” she began, “I think I would tell you that I don’t believe the negative opinion you have of yourself. I would say that I feel a connection with you and I feel drawn to you and I know there’s good in you. It’s what’s pulling me toward you. You love hard and you protect what’s yours.”
She opened her eyes to see a smile forming on his lips. She remained quiet for a moment to let her words sink in, and she was surprised when he filled that silence for her.
“If I could talk to you mentally,” he said, “I would tell you that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night.”
Sylvia’s thighs lit up when the fingertips of his rough, large hands touched them and began to slide upward, pushing her dress farther up her legs. Her breath caught in her throat.
“And I would tell you,” she replied. “That I didn’t sleep at all. My mind was a mess as I thought of how badly I wanted to kiss you again.”
“Mmm hmm,” he said. “I would tell you that I can smell you. That I could smell you last night. That the scent of your pussy sets my nerves on fire.”
Oh shit.
Sylvia felt her nipples harden and her pussy getting wet with each word he spoke.
“And how badly I want you to taste me,” she said.
His fingers continued to move up her thighs, until her dress was all the way at her hips and her panties must have been in full view. She refused to open her eyes because her imagination was so much better, and she could visualize him licking his lips and staring at her white panties which were now completely soaked through.
“And how I want to lift you up and put the head of my cock inside you, but keep you there, and make you beg to take me all the way in,” he said.
His fingers found the waistband of her panties and tugged. She lifted her ass so he could pull them free, and then fixed her dress and sat back down on it, feeling the fresh breeze of the misty morning off the cool waterfall. Sylvia was tired of the games. She let go of her hold on his temples and lay back on the sand, opening her legs for him, and then, with her eyes still squeezed shut, she felt his firm grip on her knees. Her wetness ran down into the crack of her ass.
