The Kraken's Sacrifice (A Deal With a Demon, #2)

by Katee Robert

“Really, you probably shouldn’t touch anything in here. You’re going to ruin your suit, and, like, I don’t know if demons have money, but you’ll definitely need to drop a metric shit-ton on dry cleaning.”

“You have tentacles.”

Called it

zir

I won’t pretend I’m not more than a little curious about the tentacles—truly, I’ve seen some inspired art in my day, and the possibility of experiencing it in real life is more tantalizing than I expected—but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck a fish.

“I suppose now is a good time to tell you that I don’t know how to swim.”

“This presents a complication.” No shit, Sherlock.

He’s beautiful in the way that glaciers are beautiful. You’ll definitely freeze your ass off if you get too close, but it’s pretty and harsh and unforgiving, which draws you in

“Me?” She carefully gets to her feet. Without thinking, I move my tentacles out of the way as she steps closer. Her grin widens, and that strange look flares in her hazel eyes. Catalina reaches out and presses her hands to my bare chest. She meets my gaze, her touch scorching me. “I’m more interested in tentacles.”

Me too 😅

“You want sex.” His voice gets colder even as his eyes go hot. “I almost killed you, and now you want orgasms.”

They circle my wrists and tug them over my head to pin me against the mattress. Two more tentacles wrap around my thighs and press them wide.

It’s not hard like a cock or fingers or a dildo. It’s certainly not warm and wet like a mouth, though a tongue is the closest comparison I can find. Even if the texture isn’t quite right. His tentacle is cool and almost fluid as he explores the inside of me.

Water is a glorious element, but destructive in the way all elements are.

She lifts her arms and makes a motion with her hands. “Uppies.” “Uppies.”

🤣🙌

I was reading the book for the fucky scenes,

So do I, bestie!

“But you know the old adage about panic?” Even knowing I’m going to regret asking, I can’t resist the invitation in her voice. “What old adage?” “It’s nothing a good fucking can’t fix.”

🤣🫠

Honestly, that racist white dude author got it wrong. H.P. Lovecraft didn’t know what he’s missing. Tentacles are sexy.

🐙🦑

“I might get eaten.” His grin is quick and devastating. “Only if you’re very, very good.”

Touche 👌

I want to pull her close and hug away the fragility lurking beneath her bravado.

Yet I want to find whoever hurt Catalina and drag them into the deep. Hold them there until the last of their air escapes. Leave them behind for predators to find and dispose of.

No matter what the romance novels I consumed by the dozens as a teenager said, sex won’t make a partner fall in love with you. It won’t suddenly cause someone who’s saying all the wrong things—I can’t love you; I will never be with you; we can’t be together—to do a complete one-eighty.

Now is where he’ll call me difficult. He’ll point out that I am fickle and as changeable as the wind, first asking to be held and then all but yelling at him when he offers exactly that. He’ll realize I’m exactly as much of a nightmare to be around as everyone else has found. He’ll leave. They always leave. Except he . . . doesn’t.

“You are not a pawn, Lina. You’re not a womb to be utilized or a body to be used for others’ benefits. You are a person, and you get to choose what you want.”

Yay! Human empowerment!