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Chapter
Twenty-Nine
VALI
My wedding day is a magical one. Even though I have yet to give Lord Vor his fish, it feels as if the gods are smiling down upon myself and Ranan. The weather is beautiful, the sun shining and a light breeze making the warmth pleasant. Ranan’s mother Ajinai is in our tent with me. I’ve placed my tiara in my hair and woven the ribbons Ranan gave me through my curls. Ajinai helps me dress in the traditional garb of a woman of the seakind—several long, thick necklaces made of shells and pearls, and a long, pearl-lined wrap skirt made of fish leather. She has made these garments in anticipation of Ranan’s future bride, and so they’re all a bit oversized. The skirt is so long it drags on the ground behind me, made for a much taller woman. I don’t care. Ajinai looks at me with approval and happiness, and I feel beautiful.
“You will keep these,” she says to me. “Use them as an example so you can make them for your daughter when she is old enough.”
I’m not sure if we’ll want children, but I like that this is mine to keep. I give her the cobweb of gold collar because I’ll never wear it, and she smiles with radiant happiness, immediately putting it on.
Now we’re both adorned for my wedding, and I feel a little closer to Ranan’s mother.
We emerge from the tent to the gathered flotilla’s occupants, and everyone looks happy to see us. I don’t even mind that I’m topless under the necklaces—I feel like I fit in. Ranan devours me with a hot look as I come to his side, and a few steps away, his father stands behind him. Lakos has never said two words to me, his expression as impossible to read as Ranan’s. Lakos says he’s shy and suffers from the same tongue-twisting his son does, so he rarely speaks in the presence of others. Today he gives me a small nod of approval as I put my hand in Ranan’s.
And then I stop looking at the crowd and pay attention to my bridegroom, because he looks magnificent. There are no bandages on his leg, only an ugly, jagged, bright-pink scar. He leans on a crutch that has been decorated for the ceremony, and he wears several necklaces that match mine. Instead of a wrap at his hips, though, he wears a slender fish-leather loincloth decorated with seashells. His skin has been rubbed with oil and he gleams in the sunlight, all gorgeous muscles and shining skin. More attractive than any of that is the smile that curves his mouth as he looks down at me, his expression flicking between happiness and possessiveness.
I could float away with the joy I’m feeling right now.
I put both of my hands in his, and since I only have two of them, he double-holds each one. As tradition dictates, the priest of Belara is bribed with a pouch of money, and then the vows are said. I practically float when Ranan declares to honor me as his bride for all eternity, as is tradition. But then he adds another line that takes my breath away. He looks me in the eye, his thumb skating over the back of my hand. “My Vali. You have always said that you want to belong, that you never have a home. But I need you to know that your home is with me, at my side. Your place is in my arms. You are my home, and I hope I am yours.”
I lift our joined hands and kiss his knuckles, tears of happiness threatening to brim over.
“In the eyes of the gods, you are now joined,” the priest says.
Ranan pulls me close, no doubt for a chaste kiss. I fling my arms around his neck and press my lips to his, eager to show him just how much love I have to give.
He lifts me off my feet, ignoring my squeal. “Your leg!”
“I’m not lifting you with my leg,” he says, and kisses me harder.
To the sounds of laughter and cheering, he carries me across the flotilla and back into the tent that is set up for our wedding celebration. He limps a little, but my protests are forgotten as we kiss, and kiss, and kiss. As is tradition with the seakind, the new couple feasts in private and emerges the next day at dawn to present another offering to Belara and the rest of the gods. I’m less interested in feasting and far, far more interested in touching my new husband.
He keeps kissing me as he carries me into the tent and finally sets me on my feet. “My Vali,” he murmurs. “Were there human customs you wanted? Was the ceremony to your liking?”
“It was perfect,” I say, moving in close and pushing aside the necklaces so I can press kisses on his bare chest. “Let’s have sex now.”
He chuckles, a hint of tension in his voice. “You do not want to eat first? My mother and father have spent many hours preparing our feast—”
“Don’t care,” I say, and turn my head to lick a particularly enticing nipple. It’s been so long since we’ve kissed and touched. So long since I’ve sat on his face or had his cocks in mine. There’s an ache deep in my belly that tells me that I need to be filled by my husband. I slide one of his arms around my waist, but he doesn’t pull me any closer and it worries me. “Don’t you want to have sex now, Ranan? Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”
“I have not had sex,” he confesses. “For some reason, the thought makes me nervous. I want today to be perfect for you.”
Is he being shy? Right now? After we just were joined in front of his people and the gods? “You’ve seen all my bits,” I tease, ru
“Are you…I have two cocks, Vali. I know humans do not.”
“We’ll make sure they both get attention,” I reassure him, sliding my hands down to that shell-covered loincloth and pushing it aside so I can touch him. I grip one already hard cock and sigh with pleasure at the feel of him. There’s nothing quite like the weight of a very fine cock in your grasp and the reaction of the male it belongs to.
Ranan makes a choked sound, even as he presses into my hand. “You…always…so eager…”
“Of course I’m eager. Just look at you.” I use my other hand and run it down his side, fascinated with his hard abdomen. How can he possibly think I’m not excited to touch him? Everything about his body is perfection. His chest is a wall of muscle, and all four arms are taut and corded with veins. I even like his bubble of an arse and the delicate fins along his limbs. I stroke his side even as I tease his cock…
…and he jumps, moving out of my grip.
Startled, I look up at him as he rubs his side, a sheepish expression on his face. “Ticklish.”
What? How can this be? Have I never run my hand down his side before? Have I somehow missed this perfect, touchable spot in my focus on his (admittedly fascinating) cocks? I need to try it again. I abandon playing with his shaft and try to put my hands in that spot on his side again, but he bats them away.
Well, that’s just encouraging me.
Our caresses turn into wrestling, as I try to tickle him and he uses all four arms to prevent me from doing so. I’m a wriggly sort, though, and I manage to get a few tickles in even as he tries to stop me. He grunts every time my fingers make contact, and I slide out of his grip just to tickle again, laughing with delight. This is the best.
Ranan wraps all four arms around me and propels me into the bed on the far side of the tent. Then I’m on my back, a heavy male pi
“Not using it at the moment.” He keeps my arms trapped, even as he leans in and presses kisses on my neck.
I wriggle, squirming against his hot mouth, and angle my chin so he can kiss as much of my throat as he likes. “Just don’t hurt yourself.”
He huffs and doesn’t even lift his head from me. He nibbles on my ear with delicate teeth and lips, making me whimper, and then returns to my neck and jaw. I’m peppered in light, soft kisses that make me ache with arousal, and I squirm against his grip, desperate to put my arms around him.
“I want to touch you,” I whisper.
“You can, but later, after you’ve forgotten all about that spot on my side.” His mouth grazes my collarbone.
“I promise not to tickle.”
I get another huff as an answer, and then he’s pushing necklaces aside so he can nuzzle the tip of my breast. I moan, hot desire licking through my body. Gods, that feels so good. It’s been a while since we’ve touched like this, and I’ve forgotten how much I adore his caresses. I stop trying to get away and arch my back, giving him free access to everything he wants to kiss. His lips, his tongue, his enthusiasm are the best feeling in the world. I would pick his touch over a thousand gold necklaces, the soft noises of approval he makes as he strokes me, over hundreds of pretty dresses. I want him and this moment, nothing else.
He lavishes attention on my breasts, until I’m panting and needy underneath him. My nipples are taut and aching from his ministrations, and when he leans in to give them more affection, I whimper a protest. “Let me touch you, Ranan. Let me suck your cocks.”
“Later,” he murmurs, and then takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks on it. When he releases it with an audible pop, my breast aches in the best way, and I practically whine a protest that he stops. “I want to be inside you this time, my Valessa.”
An even better idea than mine. Just the thought of it makes my core ache, as if my body is desperate for the very same. “Oh, I want that, too.”
He moves up my body and kisses me, this time on the lips. A small smile curves his mouth as he gazes down at me, and that hungry, possessive look comes over him. “You’re certain?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m bigger than a human male. And I have two.”
“I noticed, aye.” His uncertainty is adorable, and ever so slightly baffling. “Why would I have a problem with that?”
“My bride should enjoy her wedding night. I just want to make certain we both are enjoying.”
“I’m enjoying everything, I swear.” I run my now-freed hand over his shoulders, appreciating his strength. “I’ve had sex before, Ranan. Nothing we do will surprise or frighten me.”
He nods. “I’ll get the sacred pot, then.”
Did I just say he wouldn’t surprise me? I guess I was wrong, because I have no idea what a sacred pot is for. But I want Ranan to keep on going, so I prop up on my elbows, necklaces sliding to my sides, and watch as he crosses the tent. He picks up a small earthenware jar and returns to my side, his expression the one he wears when he’s ill at ease. I’m curious what he’s so uncertain about, so I watch with interest as he pulls the small lid off the jar. A light, perfumed fragrance fills the air, and he dips his fingers in. They come out gleaming and slick.
Oil.