“Really?” she couldn’t help but ask. She had never been unclothed before anyone before, and now in hindsight—her mind seemed to be making up for the lost time—she wondered if he could even find a human like her attractive.
“Daria, I’m so happy I could die now.”
“Don’t,” she said smiling. “Because then we won’t be able to do it again.”
“You’re right,” he laughed. “I’ll have to live forever.”
“You better,” she said, squeezing his hand. She wondered how it had never come up before. “Kallias, how long do mermaids live?”
“I have no idea. How long do humans?”
“I don’t know. Maybe fifty years or so? A year is a full cycle, so for instance from cold to cold.
“Fifty?” He did not seem pleased. “That seems too short. How old are you now?”
“Twenty three.”
“So almost halfway?”
She touched his face. “Hey, don’t look so heartbroken right after you’ve had me.”
He put his hand on hers and closing his eyes, leaned into it, almost as if his hand and face were hugging her hand and yet too like he was savoring it.
“Why? How old are you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never paid attention. Easily that many if not more.”
“And have you seen elderly mermaids?” she asked, turning on her side to face him. “Maybe I should be the one so forlorn.”
That got him to laugh, but it didn’t last long. “No,” he admitted, “but only mothers with children really come to the shallows where I roam.”
“Then we don’t know,” she said, trailing her finger across his arm, watching it as he watched her.
“No, we don’t.”
“I could live all the way until one hundred if I’m lucky,” she added.
“Iwould be the lucky one then.” His hand gently cupped her neck before trailing down to her chest, so light he washardly touching her but so sensuous she could barely breathe. No, his fingers barely grazed her, but they left lightning trails of pleasure, like he was lighting up every nerve under her skin and leaving all of them wanting more. Perhaps barely touching was the key: it taunted just enough that it left every spot yearning for more. Less to beg for more.
“We must treasure every second then,” he said, finally moving his hand to her cheek and he held it there, holding her, and gazing at her like she was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen. “My wife,” he breathed like a man overcome.
“My husband,” she whispered, leaning in against his chest. His one upper arm lay beneath her neck; with its hand he played with her hair, and with the other, he pulled her close and then he rested that hand upon her hip, tracing circles around her bone.
They stayed that way for a long time, and she found that being nestled into those strong, warm muscles was a fantastic place to be, like a bird in a nest knowing it was where it belonged. That was what it felt like too, like home.
And when the pebbles fell, she groaned, not wanting to move, not ever wanting to leave those arms.
“Time moves too quickly,” she said.
It made what Kallias said all the more true: they had to treasure each and every second. Who knew how long they had?
So she leaned up to him and kissed his lips, and then coming even closer, she murmured in his ear, “So when I get back, let’s use each and every last second of that two and a half hours,” and his slightly incredulous smile told her he understood what she meantcompletely.
CHAPTER 78
After the last winding of the lighthouse, they finally fell asleep—or he did his version of sleep and she hers. He was so big, so broad as he cuddled around her, like a shield to the outside world so that no one could ever find her let alone hurt her. It was blissful.
She hoped he enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms just as much.
