Page 9 of Darkest Dredge

I'd waited too long for this moment. I'd be damned to the depths if I wasn't going to tease this out until my sheets were soaked with her desperation.

My heart hammered hard at the sight of her oceanic eyes bright with hunger. I didn't understand what she was saying half the time. I lived in my own world, whispers in my head keeping my mind half-steeped in the shit I'd spent my whole life trying to better understand. She was my anchor.

My expression softened, and my free hand smoothed over her ankle. Heat shot through my arm at the brush of my bare skin over hers. "You know you don't have to hide anything from me, Bea. You know my darkest secrets. And you accept me."

“But it's... I don't want you to think I'm some kind of fish freak.”

“Hate to break it to ya, Bea. But you are. And so what? I pray to Cthulhu. I've spent all my life's savings on finding his temple. If you're a fish freak, then fucking same."

Before she could respond, I flipped open her book to the part where she'd read so many times, there was a crack in the spine.

And I started to read.

Chapter Six

Beatrice

Oh, fuck.

"No, stop! Don't read that!"

Half to my surprise, Noah paused in the middle of the first sentence of the filthiest chapter in the book. His dark brows rose with skeptical intrigue. "I doubt very much you actually want me to stop."

"Well, I..."

Double fuck. He was right. While I was the most flustered I'd ever been in my life, I didn't want him to stop.

"It's just that, that part is embarrassing. I don't want you getting all weird if you're not into this."

"Bea," he said in that reprimanding tone that bore an edge of softness he only ever used with me. "If you want me to stop and cut you loose at any time, say ‘Fhtagn.’ Understand?”

I bobbed my head in understanding, my brain feeling like soup in my skull. I was still woozy from the rum, but I’d never felt more sure about anything.

"That's my good little Bea," he praised. "Now, lay back, relax. If you pull too hard against the ziptie, it will leave marks."

When I didn't relax, his dark chuckle sent a shiver of goosebumps over my arms and legs.

"Ah, so you like being bruised and marked up? I was curious about that, considering what the monster does to the heroine in this book."

"Wait." My lungs slapped together, and I sucked in a surprised gasp. "Y-you've read it?"

He hesitated before nodding. "I have."

"You asshole! You lied to me. You did go through my shit under my bunk."

"I didn't lie," he muttered cooly. "I read it when it came out."

I blinked. Was he fucking with me? “You read monster romance? Since when?”

“Since I first caught you reading one. In college, if you didn't have homework to do, or weren't studying with me, you were reading. Anything you deem worthy of your time, is worthy of mine also. And turns out, I like it. I don't read a ton of it. Mostly just the nautical shit. Did you ever read the one with the lighthouse keeper that shoves the heroine's head in shark-infested waters?”

“I love that one!”

“This one is pretty good too though.” He flipped a page, a smile flickering at the crook of his mouth as his amber eyes skimmed the words. “This one had an eldritch monster on the cover. Of course I had to pick it up.”

His eyes were stark with sincerity. And in an instant, all sense of shyness and shame melted. I shouldn't have been so cagey about it in the first place. Even if he didn't like it, who gave a fuck? I liked what I liked. He'd care for me either way. But this was the best-case scenario. He wasn't simply indulging my desires. This was just as much for his pleasure too.

The moment my muscles unclenched and I settled back into his mattress, as comfortable as I could get with my arms stretched over my head, he began to read to me.