The waves had taken her, but the heat she left behind clung to him like a fever. His chest rose and fell, the night air sharp in his lungs, yet the scent of her—warm, ripe, salt-slick—still coated his tongue.
He gripped the rail, eyes fixed on the black churn below. For a moment, silence. Then the water stirred. A shimmer. A ripple. And she rose again.
Not as she had been. Now her hair streamed like kelp, her skin slick with moonlit water. The sea clung to her like a second skin, every curve sculpted and glistening, nipples hard from the cold but her smile molten heat. She hovered just above the waves, half-slicked in shadow, half-bathed in silver light.
"Did you think I would leave you unsated?" Her voice carried, soft and sultry, weaving itself through the creak of the rigging. Each syllable was a caress. "No, Peter… I only meant to make you hunger more."
The water swelled beneath her, pushing her higher, until her legs dangled over the rail. She spread them shamelessly, letting the sea itself bead and drip down the cleft of her thighs. The moon turned each droplet into liquid fire.
He didn't step back. He didn't flinch. He let her come to him.
Her fingers slid down her belly, lower, parting herself for his gaze, her moan catching like a songbird's call. The ship rocked gently, as if answering her rhythm. "Taste me again," she whispered, "but deeper this time. Until even the sea grows jealous."
She swung a leg over, straddling the rail, the dark ocean yawning beneath her. Balanced there, half-claimed by water, half-offered to him, she began to grind slowly, her heat brushing against the bulge pressing through his trousers. Her slickness soaked through the fabric, a hot stain against the rough cloth.
He seized her hips at last, dragging her down hard against him. She gasped, arching, but instead of resisting, she threw her head back, baring her throat to the moon. "Yes… gods, yes…" she purred. "Claim me while the sea watches. Fill me so it knows you as master."
Her words coiled around him, binding tighter than rope. His cock pressed against her opening, the only barrier between them the soaked thinness of his trousers. She rocked against it deliberately, each stroke a silent dare.
"Take me," she breathed again, lips brushing his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. "Make me swell with your seed until even the tide carries your name."
The ocean heaved beneath them, a thousand waves slamming against the hull as though the very water urged him to obey.
Her heat pulsed against him, slicking the rough fabric of his trousers, until the restraint snapped. With a growl, he shoved the cloth aside and pushed into her in one savage thrust. Her cry split the night, half pleasure, half surrender, her body arching like a bowstring drawn tight.
She clung to him on the rail, the ocean yawning below, her thighs gripping his hips with desperate force. Every stroke drove her higher, the ship rocking with their rhythm, the mast groaning as if it, too, strained to hold the passion tearing across the deck.
His hands bruised her hips, forcing her down on his length until she was filled to the root. She gasped, nails clawing his back, dragging fire down his skin. "Yes—gods, yes," she moaned, her voice breaking on each thrust. "Deeper… harder… don't stop."
He slammed into her, relentless, their bodies meeting in wet, urgent slaps. The waves matched their pace, crashing against the hull, salt spray misting their skin. Her breasts bounced with every movement, nipples hard against the cool air, until his mouth found them—biting, sucking, marking her as his.
She rode him back with equal hunger, grinding, twisting her hips to milk every inch of him. The rail shuddered beneath them, threatening to splinter, but she only threw her head back, moaning to the moon, "Fill me! Spill yourself in me! Make me swell with you!"
Her words cracked something inside him. His rhythm turned savage, animal, each thrust claiming her with brutal finality. Her cries rose, breaking into screams that tangled with the wind, her body convulsing as the climax tore through her. She tightened around him in wet, pulsing waves, dragging his release with her.
He roared into her throat as he came, pouring himself deep, deeper, until she trembled and gasped with the fullness. Hot seed spilled into her, and she clutched at him wildly as if to keep every drop from escaping.
The sea itself seemed to peak with them—the swell rising, foaming, crashing in ecstasy against the ship's sides before sinking into a sudden hush.
She sagged against him, her breath shivering, her skin slick with sweat and salt. Her lips brushed his ear, whisper-soft, heavy with promise:
"Now you are mine… as much as I am yours."
The moon slid from behind a cloud, silvering their bodies, illuminating the faint shimmer that spread across her skin like scales. And as Peter caught his breath, still pulsing inside her, he realized the truth—he hadn't just taken her.
The sea had given her to him.
Her smile was sharper this time, hungrier. She dragged herself over the rail, dripping across the deck, her thighs parting as she straddled him with a slick, eager grind. Her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardened by the night chill, but her core burned hot against him, soaking through his clothes.
"You gave me your seed," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear, "but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. My womb is still empty… hungry." She rocked against him, wet heat grinding over his length. "You will fill me again. And again. Until my belly swells with your heir."
Her words coiled around him like chains, but his body answered before thought could resist. He tore his trousers aside and shoved into her with brutal force. She cried out, arching against him, her walls tightening around him as if her body meant to drink him dry.
He thrust hard, deep, relentless, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing in the night. Her nails raked down his back, scoring him, marking him. "Yes," she gasped, "harder—don't stop until I can feel it rooting inside me. Make me yours. Breed me until even the sea knows I carry you."
The ship rocked with their fury, timbers groaning, waves striking in rhythm with each savage thrust. She clung to him, biting his shoulder, her voice breaking into cries and moans that fed his hunger.
He drove into her until her body convulsed, shuddering tight around him, milking him with desperate spasms. She screamed, head thrown back, her hair whipping in the wind, as she climaxed hard. Her release dragged him with her—his roar ripping the night as he spilled hot and heavy inside her, pulse after pulse filling her womb.
She collapsed against him, panting, her lips at his throat. "Good…" she whispered, still trembling around his cock. "Again. Again, until I am swollen with you." Her hand slid to her belly, caressing it with wicked satisfaction, as if she could already feel life stirring there.
Peter held her hips, still buried in her, and though his breath came harsh, the smile curving his lips was darker than before.
"Then I'll breed you," he growled, thrusting once more, still hard, still hungry. "Until the sea itself begs me to stop."