Pitching a tentacle, p.7
Pitching a Tentacle, page 7
“I dunno, seems like something... I’ve never done it before.” Cane gasped as his cock bucked. Morgan chuckled but withdrew. He’d said before that his human tentacle was reserved for his mate, and he’d not yet decided that Morgan was his. Morgan had decided though.
“Okay. I can wait.” Morgan slid away but Cane bit his lip and rolled onto his side, sheltering space between their bodies.
“Alright, if you can wait, I’ll show you.” Cane tugged the waistband of his shorts down, letting his cock spring out between them. It seemed like an ordinary human cock, save for the fact that it had a degree of motion to it, curving upward with a gentle flex, an angle that would hit Morgan’s innermost spot.
“Whoa.” Morgan swallowed hard, his mouth watering to taste it. He bet that Cane’s cum and cock would taste much like his skin, like the ocean, salty and a little musky. Morgan was no innocent in some ways, but Cane was a temptation he couldn’t pass up. It was rare that Morgan produced slick in human form, enough that the sudden sensation of it wetting his crease made him tense and shiver.
“Oh, you like?” Cane pulled Morgan closer and tugged his pants back up, but allowed their clothed groins to rub gently.
“Mm-hmm.” Morgan gasped softly when Cane’s hand circled his waist, slipped down the back of his shorts, and hesitated at the crest of his buttocks.
“Want me to get you off? Put my finger there?” Cane slipped his fingers down a little lower and Morgan whimpered, lifting a leg to sit atop Cane’s hip, affording him better access.
“Mm-hmm.”
It wasn’t a good angle, but Cane had lasciviousness in mind when he sank a finger deep, trailing his slick with ease. He slid his digit back and forth, searching for where Morgan found his pleasure. With a gentle arch of his hips, he allowed Cane to graze his prostate with the wandering tip of his finger. The noise he made seemed to coax Cane into more, letting him add a second finger to wriggle and grind just at Morgan’s spot as they lay there, frotting.
“We still good?” Cane nuzzled into his neck and nipped, digging his fingers deeper to press into that spot so exquisitely.
“Y-yeah.” Morgan’s voice came out husky with lust, and a few moments later, he seized up, leg spasming. “Gonna...”
Cane flipped him onto his back, pulling his fingers free, and with an awkward gesture had his mouth over Morgan’s and their cocks brought together, suddenly unclothed. Cane pumped eagerly, relishing Morgan’s finish, rubbing his cum into their cocks until he, too, spilled with a trembling breath. A low swear muttered over his lips, tickling Morgan’s ear. Three tiny words followed the swear, ones that Morgan didn’t expect to hear. “I love you.”
“S’that mean we’re mates?” Morgan chuckled drunkenly and grinned at Cane’s bright eyes, shadowed with lust and apprehension.
“Means, I don’t care if we are. I love you. That’s all I need. All I want.” Cane leaned down and nuzzled happily with a soft sigh. “Come home with me after the summer ends. Please?” Cane’s voice held a rough edge, fearful, as if he thought there’d be a chance Morgan would say no.
“I’ll come with you. I promise. Does that mean I get number eight?” Morgan bit his lip.
“Once we’re at home in our bed. I will. I promise.” Cane nipped his ear and held Morgan tight. “And Papa demands grandbaby time with Ripley ASAP.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just saying this so you can keep Ripley?” The fear of that squirmed in his belly.
“No. I know many couples who would take him in if asked. Ones that would let me see him all the time. If you’re mine, I’ll treat you well. I may not be dolphin rich, but I do well enough. I invested soundly a few years ago in property before our town became a vacation hotspot. I’m an underwater welder and that’s decent pay. We’re good.” Cane tucked a lock of hair behind Morgan’s ear.
“I could get a job. I’m good with kids, and I can darn nets and make cute clothing.” Morgan found a soft finger pressing into his lips, one laden with their muddled cum.
“Shh. You’ll do what you want. If you want to work, do what you love. Don’t stress. An alpha is judged by how well cared for his partner is.” Cane stroked his head again.
“That’s an orca thing if I’ve ever heard one.” Morgan snorted.
“My alpha father is an orca.” Cane sat up and tilted his head at Morgan. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Morgan’s heart flopped into his stomach. Orcas didn’t interbreed, but the fact that Cane sat there...
“Wait, you’re telling me that if we have babies... We won’t have cecaelia?”
“No. They’ll be three-quarters cetacean, so they’ll express cetacean, and Orca is—”
“Dominant.” Morgan sat bolt upright, eyes wide. His stomach churned anxiously. “We could have orcas?”
“Yeah? If they’re alpha, it’s certain. Omega will have a 75 percent chance of being orca. Slim chance for dolphin, but there’s a one in a hundred chance we have a cecaelia. It’s not impossible.” Cane grinned at Morgan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“My last name is literally Gale.”
“Oh my goddess.” Morgan fanned himself as heat seared his cheeks. The Gale family was a large family and influential in the cetacean community.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you know how much of an honor it would be to have an orca child?” Morgan bit his lip. He’d be the talk of his pod if word got back he bore orcas. He’d be revered and his parents would be so angry they couldn’t get a dowry off him. Then again, they’d be angry if they found out he’d stooped as low as to mate a cecaelia, Gale or not.
“Whoa. Shh. Dolphins are the only ones impressed by orcas. They’re wealthy, yes, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Cane laughed like it wasn’t something huge.
“No! It is. My parents are going to shit themselves.” Morgan cackled with glee.
Cane snorted. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry what your parents think much anymore. You can do what you really want to do.”
“I really like making my own clothes, but my mother said it made us look poor. I only ever had two or three outfits at a time, so I made a lot to play in.”
“Only two or three?” Cane stared at him oddly.
“Omegas don’t get much spent on them.” Morgan offered a polite smile.
Cane’s upper lip curled. “That changes now. Anything you want, I’ll try my best to get you. I’ll lie to the goddess herself and declare you my mate if it’s not so.”
But would it be a lie? Morgan couldn’t help but wonder. He’d never felt this way before, but then again, he’d never been this close to someone. Time would tell, and Morgan would listen.
As the first few cool droplets of rain sprinkled down, Morgan and Cane laughed as they scrambled to stand.
“Get Ripley! I think he’ll be okay in the rain, but you never know when kids are excited.” Cane pulled his shirt off and wiped Morgan clean before jogging toward the lake. Morgan took off running and as a summer storm raged above, they played among the hydrilla and pondweed at the bottom of the lake. It felt like something a family would do. But Morgan’s family had never done anything like that with him. Ripley would have all the blessed memories of it, Morgan promised himself.
***
Never in his life did Morgan have a partner that cared for his pleasure. Dolphin mers were voracious in their appetites and insatiable. Even still, Cane never let him go wanting, always taking a break for a swim for him, ready to dive to the bottom of the lake, bathe in the moonlight on the beach, cuddling one another. Cane was there for him, soothing him through what should have been the worst time of his life. It’d been a lovely six weeks.
Of recent, at times he’d felt dizzy and lethargic, wanting to go to bed without so much as a snuggle from Cane.
It was morning by the time he was certain of something deep in his heart as the nausea rolled in and the tender mammary slits aside his vent alluded to something that would assure he’d have Cane for longer.
Can I be pregnant? We’ve only done outercourse... But even Morgan knew that a tenacious sperm could hitch a ride into his channel from their frotting cocks.
He bustled into the nurse’s office and picked up a test, the human ones surprisingly accurate for omegas.
Sitting in the infirmary’s bathroom, he peed in the cup, dipped the stick, and watched as two pink lines confirmed his suspicion.
In a moment of panic, he called his half-sister.
“Trish?” Morgan perked up when the other end crackled. His sister spent little time in the ocean since her partner worked topside.
“Morgan? Where the fuck are you? Do you know how much trouble you’re in?”
“Wyoming, some shifter summer camp called Wannahatchee. Council sent me out here after... You know.” Morgan wrapped a hand around his belly and took a shuddering breath.
“Do you know how embarrassed we are? My partner is disgusted with me, thinks that if you were loose that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and I must be, too! He’s paternity testing our son!” Her shrill bark made Morgan crumple. They’d been thick as thieves when he was little.
“I didn’t cheat. I’ve never slept...” He couldn’t say that anymore. He’d gotten knocked up, confirming everyone’s suspicions. “Degan wanted me to have sex before we were officially mated. I refused.”
“Why couldn’t you have just put out for your mate? You were already marked.” She whined in exasperation.
“Because he would have done the same thing whether I had sex with him or not. I was protecting myself until Mother and Father got their payout.” Morgan swallowed down a mouthful of bile. He didn’t know why he thought she’d help.
“Well, it’s a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.” Trish huffed. “You should have told someone!”
“I did. I told Mother and Father. And when they didn’t believe me and had me marked, I told the council. Wanna know who listened? You didn’t see the men they brought in to see me like I was used leftovers. They touched me and squeezed me like a fucking farm animal.”
“Sometimes it’s not all about you, Morgan.”
“No, it’s never been about me. I didn’t get to go to private school. You did. I didn’t get new clothes every season. You did—”
“You always wanted to wear those tacky rags around.” Trish clicked her tongue.
“Those were clothes I handmade. I loved them. I didn’t get an option. I didn’t get toys or phones or trips or vacations. I had to sit at home with Grandma while you and Mother went to spa trips.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t like that stuff.” Trish sighed heavily.
“Nobody ever asked me! I was told to wait for a mate that would take care of me. I was told I’d get my turn when I got a wealthy husband. And let me tell you, Degan highly misrepresented that. I don’t think he had the actual money to pay my dowry. He was hoping to use me to have an alpha child to take the family finances in his name.” Morgan choked on a shuddering breath.
“You never liked that stuff. You’re a boy. You don’t need that stuff.” Some of the conviction ebbed from her voice, laden with uncertainty.
“I loved that stuff. Remember when you got those sheet masks, and we painted our toenails? I always wanted to be treated the same. I wanted to be pretty, too.” Morgan whispered those last words and choked on tears.
“Sometimes, it’s not all about what you want, Morgan. It’s about the good of the family. Sometimes, people have to make sacrifices. I’ve made them, too.” Trish hesitated again, like she was thinking for the first time and hated it. “Goodbye, Morgan. I hope things work out for you.” The line went silent.
Morgan broke down into little sobs. He didn’t know why he thought Trish might have insight, having been mated off herself. The beta they’d mated her off to had given her a son, another beta to add to the cesspool of insecure men.
Then there was Cane, the sweet cecaelia. A life sheltered had deprived Morgan of the targeted hatred of Cane’s people. He’d been anecdotally told that the tentacle merfolk were bad, but he’d never met one until Cane, and hadn’t been repulsed. He didn’t smell bad or seem uncouth. He was like any other mer, but better in that he’d shown him kindness and affection.
The only question was, would Cane question the pregnancy? Would he think Morgan tricked him or was with someone else? He didn’t have the heart to find out right away.
Cane said he loved him. That it didn’t matter... They were already taking Ripley in, what was one more? In his heart, he knew Cane would make it work.
Chapter Twelve
Cane
Cane leaned against the cabin, eyes traversing the grounds as his kids took turns lobbing fist-sized bags of sand at a wooden board with holes in it. They called it cornhole, which sounded pretty disgusting to Cane, but it didn’t involve anyone crying or giving kids weapons. That had to be worth something.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he glanced down at the screen.
“Beach!” Cane held the phone to his ear. “Tell me good news.”
“Well. The good news is that we’re getting Ripley the fuck out of there.” Beach laughed nervously and Cane’s heart sank.
“I hear bad news in your voice there,” Cane said.
A lingering pause and heavy breath into the receiver stretched into eternity.
“The council wants him to go to a larger shimmer, to a group home there. You’re not mated, not related to the kid, and he’s an omega. What the hell do you know about omegas other than sexing them up?” Beach snorted.
“I know plenty. Nori taught me well.” Cane half smiled. “And I don’t sex up omegas. I’m an outercourse only kinda guy... Well, with the tentacle that counts. Everything else is fair game.”
“Any tentacle is a—”
“Mating tentacle in the heat of the moment.” Cane snorted then sighed. “So, if I have a mate, would that change anything?”
“Might. I’d certainly vouch for you.”
“Okay. Another good reason to make a decision quick. Tell them I have a mate.” Cane waited for a quick but surprised goodbye and sighed, suddenly wanting off the phone.
Casper, a little feline shifter, ran by, the rest of his group in tow with no Morgan in sight.
“Where’s Morgan?” Cane had missed the male this morning at breakfast, and the night before, he had skipped their nightly swim.
“I think his family showed up, but it’s not family day!” Casper kicked a rock and twisted his lips.
Cane’s stomach knotted. If they were here, it couldn’t be good.
“Where are they?”
“Mess hall!” Casper grabbed a cornhole bag and chucked it.
“Alright. Thanks.” Cane glanced around and whistled for one of the juniors to step in and keep an eye on the kids before jogging up to the mess hall.
He didn’t have to get that close before hearing the loud discussion.
“And your duty to this family—” a nasally female chirped out.
“We’re not a family. You and Father have made that abundantly clear,” Morgan’s sharp retort barked out.
“Well, then all the motivation for you to start your own! All we’re asking is that you spend some time with your new fiancé here. They’ll take you, even if you are disgraced,” a male voice rife with exasperation said.
Cane let himself into the building and caught sight of two glaring shifters next to an overweight male with narrow eyes and a good sixty years on Morgan. Which, for their kind, who could live a few hundred years if they were careful, was significant.
Cane raised his voice as he approached, hands in pockets. “New fiancé? Did I miss something, sweetheart?”
“What? Excuse me?” A rather severe woman with dark hair and eyes just as bleak stared daggers at Cane. “They allow cecaelia to speak out of line here?”
“Cane! I was just about to tell my parents about you.” Morgan’s eyes widened as he turned, depthless orbs full of pleading.
“Tell away.” Cane reached for Morgan and drew him in for a little one-armed spin and smile. “Since it seems I’m speaking out of turn, here.”
Morgan’s cheeks, red before, went redder with what Cane could only assume was part anger and shame. “Mother, Father, I’d like to introduce you to my mate. Hurricane Gale.”
Mate? Seems Morgan is on the same page.
“You can’t be serious! You’d side with this...this... Calamari!” His father gestured at Cane while the older gentleman behind him blanched. Morgan visibly flinched.
“Right out there with the hard C, then? Pleasure to meet you.” Cane took in all the things that Morgan had casually mentioned, all the things he saw, and some of the very interesting things he didn’t.
His parents were dressed nicely, but nothing was new. Very strange for a couple that held such wealth, supposedly. Even more strange when their son had never seen any of it, living vicariously aside them, never reaping the lavish vacations or parties. A child born of privilege without privilege.
A line of gray hairs shone along his mother’s scalp, her dye job not touched up for some time. No expensive cologne met Cane’s nose. Interesting. They’re broke.
“I speak my mind,” his father said shortly, and from the shocked expression across the older male’s face, his mind wasn’t much appreciated.
“Why are you so interested in marrying him off to some rich beta?” Cane cocked his head slightly and stared.
“That’s none of your business, cecaelia. And I’d appreciate it if you kept your filthy tentacles off my son.” The rather severe woman stiffened visibly.
“It’s quite alright. I was under the impression that young Morgan here was actively seeking an arrangement, Steven.” The older gentleman raised his hands before glaring at both Morgan’s parents. “You didn’t specify he was unwilling.”
“He agreed to do what we asked, Lyle.” Steven, Morgan’s father, glared at Cane, as if this were all his fault.
Morgan bowed his head. “Mother and Father made an arrangement with Degan Gray and he called our engagement off after I was marked. I refused to bed him before the ceremony.”
