My Atlantean

Shauna snatched her rum and coke from the cocktail table and took a quick drink before standing. She wavered for a moment, then pointed a slender finger at Robert's chest and breathed, "Fuck you." Before he could reply, she shouldered her way past him, slipped through the salon entrance, and headed towards the bow of the yacht. Her flip flops snapped a steady cadence that echoed her rapid heartbeat.

Robert gave chase, barking a slew of curses and yelling for her to stop.

All she'd asked was to be left alone. "Just pretend like I'm not even here," she'd practically begged. But apparently her unwillingness to participate in the sex-a-pa-loo-za taking place on the yacht was a poor reflection on her husband, which was completely unfair considering she hadn't even wanted to go out on the boat that day.

"Godammit, I said stop you stupid bitch!"

Shauna ground her teeth and shook her head as she neared the stern, having nearly completed a full circuit of the deck. She was embarrassed, hurt and-above all else-furious at Robert for speaking to her so horribly, especially when she'd done nothing wrong.

She answered his directive with a quick smirk over her shoulder and a sharply executed one-finger salute. Then something inside her snapped like a dry twig, bringing her hasty flight to an abrupt halt.

Enough of this shit!

Struggling to put a leash on her roiling emotions, she tossed back her drink. She focused on the cool heat of the alcohol, cradled it on her tongue until it ignited her taste buds and escalated from a mild, tingling sensation to a near painful burn. She took a protracted breath and let it out slowly before swallowing.

Brimming with indignation, Shauna turned and barely managed to stifle a yelp as Robert drew to a stop within arm's length. But she quickly regained her composure, affecting a well-practiced air of impertinence while she wondered what the hell was wrong with her husband, besides the fact he was a fucking prick who'd long ago stopped caring about her.

"What's your problem?" Robert barked.

"Wha-? Are you serious?"

"Keep your voice down."

Shauna arched her eyebrows. "Excuse me? I'm not the one who's yelling."

Robert sighed. "Look, I just want to know why you're being so difficult."

It took every ounce of self-control Shauna could muster to keep from screaming in frustration. "Maybe," she grated, "I'm being so difficult because I don't want to be here."

She closed her eyes and took some deep breaths, not opening them until she felt Robert's bare chest brush against the thin material of her bikini top. He flashed one of his sexy grins when her nipples pebbled.

"But I want you here. It wouldn't be the same without you by my side." He raised a hand and stroked Shauna's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Now, come on, it's time to play." Then he rolled his hips under, pushing his generous erection into her belly. "You do want to play, don't you?"

Shauna tried to block out the feel of muscled chest and thick, mouthwatering cock; desperately clung to the anger that was slipping away by degrees. Though even if she could, she couldn't dismiss the naked bodies writhing not fifteen feet away. The wet, smacking sounds of furious sex made her pussy clench, her womb spasm.

Before her carnal desires could get the best of her, she growled, "No, Robert, not this time," and shoved her husband. Though he only stumbled back a step, it was enough for her to regain her focus.

Shocked by his wife's sudden aggression, Robert huffed, "Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you?"

Shauna balled her fists. "What do you think is wrong? And for that matter, why do you care? You stopped doing that a long time ago."

She turned to walk away, not wanting Robert to see the tears welling at the corners of her eyes, but he quickly closed the narrow gap between them and placed his hands upon her shoulders.

"Hey, c'mon, Shauna. Why would you say that, huh? I care about you. Always and forever, you know that." He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

Shauna couldn't help being touched by the sudden tenderness and warmth that lit his dark brown eyes. It'd been so long since he'd shown her any real affection. She also couldn't help but consider that maybe, just maybe, not all hope was lost.

"It's only . . . well, you haven't exactly shown me you cared in a while. We hardly ever speak anymore and you seem to stay away from home as much as possible." She stared at her manicured toenails. "I thought you'd finally grown tired of me."

Robert lifted her chin and kissed her. "That's not true. I've been busy, you know, distracted. But I'll make it up to you," he promised, his voice a whisky rasp that sent her heart rate soaring.

He took her hand, flashed another sexy grin. "Now let's go join in the fun, and we'll talk about this more tonight."

Shauna grinned but it was hesitant, fragile. "Or we can clear out one of the cabins," she countered tentatively, hoping she wasn't about to be seriously disappointed, "and you can spend the afternoon showing me how much you still care."
"That sounds good. It, it really does. But why don't we join in the fun? Then tonight it can be just you and me."

Shauna felt a painful squeeze around her heart. "You can't do it, can you; can't be with me-just me-when there's so much pussy around?" She threw her hands up. "What was I thinking? I knew that whatever love you felt for me was long gone but still I was hoping." She shook her head. "I just wish to hell it hadn't taken me so long to admit it to myself."

Robert released her and stepped back. His large hands closed into pale fists; his face shaded to dark red. "Bitch, don't you dare get all high and mighty with me. We're the same, you and I, and you damn well know it." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Shit, I'll bet together we couldn't count the number of cocks you've had; pussies, too. You didn't complain any of those times, did you? Never said no to any of it?"

A lone tear rolled down Shauna's cheek as she finally accepted what her heart had been trying to tell her for quite some time. That the love and passion Robert had once lavished upon her was truly gone, lost to the winds, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Shauna stared into her husband's eyes, refusing to back down. After a few tense moments he grunted a breath of palpable disgust, turned and sauntered towards four women and men sprawled across a cushioned bench. The women were on their hands and knees, facing one another, while the men frantically pistoned into their pussies from behind. He shucked his swim trunks and sat between the two women who greedily fell upon his raging erection and tightly drawn sack. He cast his wife a final smile that dripped self-satisfaction before resting his head against the back of the bench.

Shauna stepped into the salon and grabbed a bottle of rum from the cocktail table; she exited the room just as quickly.

I am so fucking done. I'm leaving that bastard. He can fuck off and die for all I care!

She stopped near the bow of the yacht and finished the dregs of her drink. With a fierce growl, she reared back and heaved the rock glass into the dark, rippling water. Turning around, she rested her ass against the railing and mumbled, "No-good-motherfucker. Never cared about me at all. Just his fucking cock." She unscrewed the cap from the bottle of rum, raised it high and took a long, hard pull, spilling a copious amount down the front of her feverish body.

She wanted to sob, but the mere thought of shedding any more tears made her feel weak and full of self-loathing. Robert was the problem, the one incapable of love, of loving her. She gazed at the distant horizon, trying to tamp down the flurry of emotions raging throughout her body.

A seagull banked low across the bow, squawking as it turned. "Fuck you, too," she muttered before taking another slug of rum.

Shauna squeezed her temples. Her head had begun throbbing in time with the pounding of her heart and seemed to be concentrated behind her eyes. A sudden compulsion to do something, hit something or someone, overcame her. With a vicious snarl she kicked out at the cabin roof, feeling a twinge of glee as she imagined her foot connecting with Robert's smug face. But she'd failed to notice the puddle of water under her feet, made worse by the rum she'd been absently spilling each time she'd taken a drink. Her long sable hair flew wildly when she flipped backwards over the railing. She screamed until her head struck something solid.

Salt water stung her eyes; filled her lungs. She was sinking, both literally and figuratively, into a deep abyss. Still she fought, flailing her arms and kicking her legs until the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins finally ran dry. She closed her eyes and with a strange calm accepted the cold death that awaited her.

#

Shauna was awake despite her desire to remain within the blissful confines of sleep. Her entire body felt weak, deflated, like she'd pushed too hard during one of her cardio sessions. She groaned and bit her lower lip, stretched and flexed her legs and feet, her arms and hands.

Oh, God. What the hell happened to me?

She was stuck smack dab in the middle of the mother of all hangovers; at least that's how she felt. Her head was banging like a base drum and her mouth felt like the Sahara. Try as she might, she couldn't recall having ever felt so terrible.

"Damn," she groaned, "must've really tied one on."

She remembered going out on the yacht with Robert and his piece-of-shit friends. They'd argued and she'd stormed off with a bottle of rum while those two skanks sucked his cock. After that . . . nothing.

Shauna scoured her memories for a hint of what had transpired after the argument until she absently curled her fingers. "Ow, shit!" She rubbed each fingernail against the pads of her thumbs. "What the fuck?" She'd broken at least two nails on each hand.

In a blinding instant she realized the back of her body was pressed against a rough, uneven, porous surface. She cringed as a myriad of scenarios ran through her head, each one unpleasant and ending with her not lying atop silk sheets in her big, beautiful, ornately-carved Victorian bed. She inhaled a deep breath and wrinkled her nose at the smell and taste of musty, stale air. It reminded her of an old room that'd been closeted from any hint of a cleansing breeze.

She opened her eyes. Between her lack of night vision and the pounding pain in her head, it took a few moments for them to focus. Wherever she was, it was dark, except for the glowing green light emanating from the ceiling.

What the-?

Shauna shot up to a sitting position and turned just before emptying the liquid contents of her stomach. She coughed and hacked and dry-heaved until she lowered herself back to the hard surface.

Gasping for breath, she tentatively opened her eyes but remained on her back this time. She stared up at the distant ceiling and its randomly-spaced green-glowing spots; in her peripheral vision she saw the walls were similarly bedazzled. She turned her head and cried out as a spear of pain pierced the side of her skull. She touched the affected area, just above her left ear, wincing when her fingers grazed a golf-ball-sized goose egg.

"Jesus Christ," she growled. "What the hell happened-?"

. . . her foot slipping out from under her. One moment she'd been looking at the cabin wall, imagining a small spot of it was Robert's face as she kicked. She'd seen the sky, dark water, the hull of the boat, then nothing. She remembered a bone-chilling cold crawling across her flesh, saltwater flooding her mouth and nose, stinging her eyes . . .

Shauna was suddenly struggling for breath. Her eyes bulged as her vision started to tunnel. She grunted and strained, clenched every muscle in her body and screamed; a breathless screech that sounded more aviary than human.

Then, just as quickly as it had come upon her, the terrifying memory-sensation ended. But before she could process it's meaning, another played in her mind: strong, powerful arms wrapping around her; firm yet soft lips closing over her own; a series of steady, even breaths.

Despite the comforting if not pleasant feeling of the second recollection, Shauna couldn't stop the tears. "Oh, Christ. What the fuck's going on?" she groaned between racking sobs, each violent shudder igniting jolts of pain that assaulted her body.

Her heart-rending cries echoed off the cavern walls until, finally, exhaustion claimed her.

#

She awoke sometime later, mildly disoriented, in pain and utterly distraught.

She wasn't dead-was she? She was breathing, her stomach was rumbling and she'd never wanted a drink of water so bad in her life. Surely she wouldn't feel all these things if she were dead.

The faint green glow from the ceiling and walls grew brighter behind her eyelids.

Someone, or something, cleared its throat.

Shauna's eyes shot open and she screamed.

The green lights had grown much brighter, enough to illuminate the entire chamber. And there, standing in front of a cleft in the wall, was a man; a very tall, well-muscled man with a sharply-angled face. He was naked except for a loin cloth wrapped around his narrow waist; the bottom edge of the thin fabric brushed the tops of his knees. He was well over six feet tall with shoulders that would make fitting through most doorways a difficult task. Jet-black hair swept back from his high forehead, wavy and luxuriously thick. It captured and reflected the very essence of the eerie green light emanating from the walls and ceiling. Though she couldn't be sure, his eyes appeared to be the same brilliant shade.

He looked like some forgotten noble, dashing and distinguished with a slight but unmistakable air of superiority.

When she finally stopped screaming, he asked in a disconcertingly matter-of-fact tone: "Are you finished?"

Shauna's first attempt at speech ended in a weak croak. She cleared her parched throat and rasped, "Yes" as she struggled to a sitting position. Though her head spun for a few seconds, she managed to remain upright. A sudden wave of nausea crashed over her, made worse when a nasty belch popped in her mouth, but she knew the queasiness would pass if she stayed calm. It's not like there was anything left in her stomach. She cast a disgusted look at the remains of her earlier sickness before scooting away from it.

She recoiled when the stranger moved towards her. His brow furrowed before he retreated a few steps and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms over his barreled chest, making his biceps bulge with power.

"I will not hurt you," he said, his voice deep and melodious. "I only want to make sure you are alright." He nodded for emphasis. "You took a hard bump on your head."

Shauna raised her hand to feel the throbbing knot but stopped short of contact. She tried to sound brave. "Who are you? And where am I?" Suddenly aware of her nakedness, she crossed her legs and threw an arm over her heaving breasts.

Her modesty seemed to irritate the stranger. "Why do you cover yourself? Your figure is exquisite." He shrugged. "Besides, I have already seen it."

Shauna blushed despite herself. Of course lots of men and women had complimented her figure, though they were usually base and crude comments; but no one had ever said it was exquisite. It sounded like the stranger was describing a work of art, not simply flesh and bones.

Again she asked, "Who are you? And where am I?"

The stranger sighed. "My name is Kadeon and you are in an underwater cave."

Shauna blinked. "No, really."

One corner of the handsome stranger's mouth lifted into a half-grin, a sexy quirk that wasn't lost on her.

"It is a fairly popular name amongst my people. In fact, it has been the name of some of our greatest leaders."

"I wasn't knocking you name-" Shauna felt her face heat at the stranger's teasing. "I was questioning your claim that we're in an underwater cave."

"There was no other-may I please step closer? I tire of speaking from such a distance."

She was scared witless of the man. He was practically a giant; a giant who could probably tear her limb from limb. And he kept looking her over like she was a meal. She let her gaze slip down to his waist. Ho-ly shit. He was aroused-seriously aroused. And, from the look of things, his erection was very large.

Just as Shauna's eyes snapped back to his, Kadeon looked down at the tented wrap. "What?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing." Shauna tried to suppress the nervous tremor in her voice but couldn't. "Uh, um . . . come closer? Yeah, okay, sure."

Kadeon uncrossed his arms and swaggered to within five feet of her. The green glow that suffused the cave grew brighter with each step he took. He sat down with an unnatural grace, stretched out his long, toned legs. Shauna blew out a breath when his wrap rode high.

"Does my manhood bother you?"

"Your man-are you kidding me? I don't even know you, for one thing, and I have no idea where I'm at or what's happened to me. For all I know you could be some kidnapper . . . or rapist . . . or murderer!"

Kadeon wrinkled his nose. "I can assure you that I am none of those things. And I already said you are in an underwater cave. Do you not remember anything? You fell off your boat and hit your head." He sighed. "I barely reached you in time."

Leaning forward, Shauna asked, "That was you? The whole lips thing? I mean you-" She tried to remember. "You gave me mouth-to-mouth or something."

"I breathed for you, if that is what you mean. A few more seconds and you would have died."

"Robert," Shauna gasped. "Shit! He must be worried sick. I have to get back to the boat."

"No!"

Shauna jumped at Kadeon's outburst. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"They are looking for you now; your Robert," he practically spat, "and the others. Some are diving while the rest scan the surface. There is no way you would make it back to them without my help. But I cannot risk them seeing me."

"Why?"

Kadeon raised his eyebrows. "You must have hit your head harder than I thought."

Shauna folded her arms and cocked her head.

Kadeon paused for a few moments as if weighing a difficult decision. Then, with a shake of his head, he lifted the hair away from the side of his neck. Shauna leaned forward and stared openly at what appeared to be four slits just beneath his ear, each approximately two inches in length. They were covered by thin fleshy membranes that drew in and flexed out in time with his breaths. He turned his head and revealed four matching slits beneath his other ear.

Shauna scrambled back on her hands and heels until her shoulders knocked into a wall. Her chest heaving, she demanded, "What the fuck are those?"

As if trying to explain the obvious to a child, Kadeon answered, "You would call them gills."

Her mind reeled, and the cave began to spin. Okay. Obviously, I'm dreaming. Yes, that must be it. Just got to wake myself up. She bit the inside of her cheek-shit!-until she tasted blood. Or, she changed course, I've been kidnapped and this guy has gotten real elaborate with the whole fucking-with-my-head thing.

Her vision grew dim by degrees. She felt herself sliding sideways and closed her eyes in anticipation of her head impacting the hard ground. Then two strong hands caught her and gently returned her to a sitting position. She opened her eyes and bit back a yelp at the sight of Kadeon straddling her. He was holding her upper arms and looked very concerned. She stared up at him, trying not to notice the scarcely covered bulge hovering mere inches from her mouth.