Lord of the Deep Read Online Free PDF Page A

shoulders was tangled with seaweed. She gasped.
    It hadn’t been a dream!

3
    M eg swung her feet to the floor. Her belly was swollen. And why wouldn’t it be? The selkie was gargantuan. He had stretched her tight virgin quim to bursting. She padded to the window, where it had all begun, and gazed at the strand below. There were no revelers now. But for the gentle sighing of the surf as it rolled up the beach, all was still. Not even the phantom surf horses thundered toward shore. The waves had died, breathless and spent, as was often the case in the wee hours before dawn.
    The moon was sliding low in the indigo vault above, its beams making a wider swath in the black water rippling toward shore. It lit the night to day. Meg snatched up her hooded cloak, lying just where she’d left it draped over a chair, and swirled it over her shoulders. She took no time to dress. What she had in mind to do must be done naked.
    Climbing down the loft ladder, Meg paused. There was no sound save her aunt’s loud snores. Aunt Adelia would sleep until first light if nothing untoward awakened her. There was no time to lose, and Meg quickly quit the cottage and padded toward the shore.
    The damp sand along the hard-packed berm was like balm to her feet; they barely smudged the surface. She padded closer to the ragged edge the spent combers had left behind on the strand. Removing her cloak, she set it aside on dry land and walked naked into the water, into the docile waves lapping at the shore. Surf lace rushed through her toes, sucking the sand beneath them back into the ocean. She waded in to midcalf. Scooping up some of the cool saltwater, she bathed her genitals, washing away all trace of her virgin blood. The magical ointment the selkie lord had slathered over her vulva had lost its pain-relieving qualities. The salt would soothe the soreness after the initial burn, and she squatted down, spread her nether lips, and let the surf rush into her. Groaning in relief, she let the sea stroke her until the cold and salt and rhythmic strokes of the restless waves had numbed her aching sex.
    Surging to her feet, she reached toward the heavens as the water cascaded down her body, over her breasts, her hips and thighs, returning to the sea. But for the sighing of the waves, all sound stilled around her. The waterfowl had not yet awakened to soar and sail and perch upon the boulders near and far that later selkie seals would climb upon to warm themselves in the sun. Would the Lord of the Deep be among them? Would he fornicate with his consorts—flaunt his prowess before her as he had done before. A pang of jealousy pierced her heart. How could she bear seeing him do to another what she had watched him do before…what he had done to her? All the fever the sea had drained from her body came rushing back, just as the waves rushed toward the shore. She had no right to him, this enigmatic creature of the deep. But somehow he had taken her beneath the waves—allowed her to see and feel and breathe where no mortal could. She had to see if she were still able. That was why she’d come.
    Wading out breast deep, she sprang off the silt underfoot and plunged beneath an incoming comber. The ocean floor fell away drastically, a sheer drop in the coral reef. She entered the void. Her natural instinct was to hold her breath, and it took a moment for her to relax enough to free herself from old restraints, both mental and physical, to perform the test. Then opening her mouth and nostrils, she took a breath.
    Water flooded her nose and rushed into her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Panic stricken she thrashed about in the water in a vain attempt to close her breathing passages. Her balance was gone, her rhythm broken. Her head felt as if it were about to explode. Ordinarily, she was a strong swimmer, but raw fright that she was about to die cancelled common sense, and she began sinking into the abyss.
    White pinpoints of blinding light starred her vision. She was