On the isle of Aquatrion, there is a legend that speaks of the Sirens' gift to those who drown at sea. Once one has been consumed by the waters, for his sacrifice, he will be turned into a selkie—both man and seal, to live amongst the sea, for his soul would forever be tied to both: that to which had been born, and to that which had died.

Kikomo mourns the death of her husband-in-waiting, Takumi. Lost saving her life during a storm at sea, Takumi's body was swallowed up by the roaring waves and choppy seas. A year later, Kikomo's father demands she marry the local merchant, a fisherman and a man of great political power. Distressed, she flees her home and escapes to the sea. There she cries seven tears into the sea. At once a selkie appears, and he bears a striking resemblance to Takumi…

Excerpt:

The sheer beauty of his voice couldn’t be copied or duplicated in any way. Not even the sirens could mimic it to the point where she would mistake the copy as his.

“Kikomo,” called the voice again and her heart stopped. So did the endless ache of loss rotating in spirals around the hole in her torso. The spot where her flourishing love for Takuma had once been.

“No,” she whispered as the last strands of mist vanished. “By the sirens…”

Takuma stood naked beneath the moon’s full radiance. His body glistened beneath the pale moonlight’s kiss. Droplets gleamed like gems along his skin. Twinkling and taunting her to come taste the salt-mixed buds from his chest. Those nipples beckoned, catching her traveling gaze and holding it captive. Her mouth twitched at the thought of planting her lips over them once more.

He smiled at her. Folded over his arm, a silvery skin of spotted black glistened. His dazzling strands of hair sparkled beneath the moonlight, but his eyes, they held her fast.

For they held the same bottomless beauty as the seal’s.

“It cannot be.”

She reached for him, and her hands trembled. Her quivering caused her words to wobble.

“Yet it is,” he said and stepped toward her, eyes already aflame with heat. “It is I, Takuma, your husband-in-waiting.”

“Takuma?” she whispered, too afraid to believe, but wanting with all her being to accept this unearthly illusion as truth. “’Tis truly you?”

“Yes.”

Every fiber of her body called out to him in familiar acquaintance. His flat tongue’s blunt bumps against her clit, those warm, rough hands squeezing her breasts, and rolling her nipples between his thick fingers and thumb, and his sweet, salt brushed lips dropping kisses up and down her abdomen, all this and more did her body rise forward to experience again.

Yes, this was her love.

Before she could gasp his name, he closed the space between them in three long strides.

In seconds she’d been scooped up into his arms and his lips once more latched over hers. Heaven had been set upon the earth and, for this moment, she let go and gave into the rush of love pouring from him.

“Oh, bless the sirens,” she moaned into his hairless chest, feeling the recognizable hard muscles beneath his skin flex and shift as he moved.

“I have missed you these long months in the sea,” he said, his words like silk against her ear, making her nipples tighten, her clit to stiffen and her hunger grow damp between her legs.

All doubts disintegrated beneath the roaring fire his stroking hands caused inside of her. This was him all right and she wouldn’t let him go again.