"You'd think after a year, I'd stop finding sand in the sheets," Eric chuckled, brushing a stray grain from the parchment he'd been studying. Grimsby's answering laugh was warm, but it didn't reach the shadows where Ursula's fingers dug into the velvet drapes, her knuckles bleaching white as Eric leaned in conspiratorially. "Truthfully, old friend, I've been meaning to ask Ariel... properly, this time... about children. A nursery by the east tower, perhaps. She always did love the morning light there." The sea witch's breath hitched audibly, though only the dust motes swirling in the sunbeam heard it, her ample hips shifting against the stone wall as if she could grind the very castle to silt between her thighs.
Ariel would be tasting salt on her lips tonight.
Three floors below, the queen's knees buckled mid-stride in the courtyard, her hand flying to the sudden wetness between her legs. The guards stiffened, but she waved them off with a smile that felt like shattered coral. Ursula's signature, a throbbing pulse low in her belly, the phantom suck of invisible tentacles between her thighs, always arrived unannounced. Across the castle, the sea witch exhaled through her nose, rolling her shoulders as Ariel's choked gasp reverberated through their cursed bond.
"Perhaps tonight, after the banquet?" Grimsby suggested, oblivious to the way Eric's wedding band caught the light and cast a dagger-shaped reflection across Ursula's cheek. "A private moment in the gardens?"
Ursula's laugh was a silent tsunami in the shadows. Her hips rolled once, a slow, deliberate undulation that had Ariel's teeth sinking into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The queen's nails scraped against the sundial she'd braced herself against, the rough stone nothing compared to the electric sting of Ursula's jealousy branding her from the inside out.
"Perfect," Eric beamed, just as Ariel's knees finally gave out.
(Hours later.)
Eric and Ariel walk hand in hand as they enter the gardens, the scent of jasmine thick in the humid evening air. "Darling," Ariel murmurs, tilting her head toward him, her fingers tightening around his. "You've been quiet tonight. What's on your mind?" A breeze stirs the loose strands of hair at his temple, and she watches his throat bob as he swallows, the way he always does before saying something important.
His fingers brush against her waist, hesitant at first, then firmer as he pulls her closer beneath the old oak. "Ariel, I want..." His voice cracks, and the vulnerability in it makes her breath catch. "I want to fill the east tower nursery with laughter," he confesses in a rush, his palm pressing against the small of her back as if to steady himself. "Our children. Ours."
The words hit her like a breaking wave, knocking the breath from her lungs, leaving her dizzy. She doesn't speak. She can't. Instead, her hands find his face, fingers trembling against his jaw as she kisses him hard enough to bruise, her body pressing flush against his. The taste of him, salt and sweet wine and something indefinably Eric, floods her mouth, and for one perfect moment, there is no curse, no shadows, only this.
Unseen, a branch snaps in the hedgerow. Ursula's nails sink into her own plush thigh, the sting nothing compared to the molten fury twisting in her gut as she watches them. The queen's joyous gasp, the young king's reverent hands tangled in her hair, it's all too much. A bead of dark liquid wells where her nail breaks skin, and the sea witch laps at it slowly, her tongue lingering on the iron tang. "Mine," she breathes into the night, but the wind carries it away.
Later, in the royal bedchamber, Eric's fingers trace the shell of Ariel's ear with trembling reverence. "I'll worship you," he murmurs against the pulse fluttering in her throat, his hands sliding down the silk of her chemise. "Every curve, every sigh..." His words dissolve into a choked gasp as his knees buckle mid-step. Ariel barely catches him before his temple hits the bedpost, his body collapsing onto the mattress like a marionette with severed strings.
"Eric? Eric!" Ariel's hands flutter over his slack face, her thumbs pressing frantically against the warm hollow beneath his jawbone. No pulse. No, there, faint but present, thready and slow beneath her fingertips. She tears at the laces of his doublet, her nails scraping against the linen beneath, when the chamber door creaks open with deliberate languor.
"Poor little mermaid," Ursula purrs from the threshold, one hip cocked against the doorframe. Moonlight glints off the silver threading in her gown, illuminating the predatory curve of her smile. "Did you truly believe I'd let his seed take root in that pretty human womb of yours?" Her laughter is a velvet-wrapped blade as she steps forward, the floorboards groaning beneath her voluptuous weight. "Every child he plants in you will wither before it quickens. That, my darling, was always part of our bargain."
Ariel's fingers spasm against Eric's still chest. "No..." The word is half-sob, half-snarl, her throat raw with the salt of unshed tears. "You can't..."
"Oh, but I already have." Ursula's thick fingers trail along the bedpost, leaving behind a glistening trail of dark ichor. "Didn't you wonder why your belly stayed flat all these months?" The sea witch's tongue darts out to catch a droplet of the oozing fluid, her pupils dilating with pleasure at Ariel's recoil. "Eric will wake believing he spilled inside you tonight. He'll count the days until your courses stop, never knowing every drop was stolen."
The realization crashes over Ariel like a rogue wave, the phantom fullness between her thighs after each cursed encounter, the way Ursula's fingers always pressed too knowingly against her lower abdomen. Her free hand flies to her belly, nails biting into the silk covering her womb as if she could claw out the violation. "You're going to... to put your..." The sentence fractures, her vocal cords rebelling against the horror.
Ursula's smirk widens as she unfastens the obsidian brooch at her throat. "Not mine biologically, pet. Just magically." The pin pricks her fingertip, a single bead of black blood welling up. "Think of it as... borrowed divinity." She presses the bleeding digit to Ariel's lips, the coppery tang exploding across her tongue like a storm surge. "His dreams will feel real. Your belly will swell. And when the time comes..." Ursula leans in until her breath ghosts hot and damp over Ariel's earlobe. "You'll birth me a heir no mortal man could ever sire."
Ariel chokes on the metallic aftertaste, her throat working around the truth lodged there like a fishhook. "And if I refuse?"
Ursula's hand snakes out, fingers splaying possessively over Eric's still chest. His breath stutters under her touch, his eyelids fluttering like dying fish. "Then his heart stops mid-syllable next time he says your name."
The bedspread bunches in Ariel's fists as she staggers upright, the silk whispering against her thighs like a receding tide. Ursula's laughter curls around her as she follows, every step toward the witch's chamber tasting of salt and surrender. The door clicks shut behind them with finality, oak groaning under Ursula's weight as she crowds Ariel against it. One thick thigh slots between her legs, the pressure against her core drawing a traitorous gasp. "Say it," Ursula growls, her teeth scraping the hinge of Ariel's jaw.
The kiss steals her remaining breath, Ursula's tongue plunging deep as the sea. Ariel's fingers tangle in the witch's hair, not to pull away, but to anchor herself as the room tilts. Somewhere between the bruising grip on her hips and the molten heat pooling low in her belly, the words spill out: "I'm yours." Ursula's answering hum vibrates through her entire body, the sound dark and satisfied as a shark gliding through midnight waters.
Then Ursula steps back, hands already working the ties of her own gown. "Strip," she commands, the word curling like smoke from her lips. The silk slides from her shoulders with a whisper, pooling around her ankles to reveal skin like polished amethyst. Ariel watches, frozen, as Ursula perches on the edge of the bed, the mattress groans under her weight, and arches her spine in a slow, serpentine curve. The air shimmers between her thighs, and Ariel's pulse stutters when something sleek and black emerges, glistening with the same iridescence as Ursula's tentacles had beneath the waves.
"Slowly, pet." Ursula's voice drips like honey laced with poison as she strokes the length of her newfound appendage. Ariel's fingers tremble on the laces of her bodice, each tug exposing more skin to the candlelight, and to Ursula's hungry gaze. The witch's breathing hitches when Ariel's chemise finally slips free, the fabric catching briefly on the peaks of her nipples before floating to the floor.
"Now dance for me." Ursula spreads her thighs wider, the black length twitching against her stomach. Ariel moves like a woman caught in a riptide, her hips swaying to some silent rhythm as she steps between Ursula's knees. The heat radiating from the witch's body makes her skin prickle, the scent of salt and something darker flooding her senses when Ursula's hands settle on her waist. "That's it," Ursula purrs, guiding Ariel's movements with subtle pressure. "Let me feel how badly you want this."
Ariel's breath hitches when Ursula pulls her down onto her lap, the hard length pressing between her asscheeks with deliberate precision. She knows this dance by now, the slow grind against Ursula's thighs, the way the witch's fingers dig into her hips when she tries to pull away. "Eight inches," Ursula murmurs against her shoulder blade, her voice thick with amusement. "And you take every one like you were made for it." Ariel bites back a whimper as the slick heat drags between her cheeks, her body responding despite the shame curling hot in her belly.
"Longer," Ursula commands when Ariel tries to rise, clamping a hand around her throat to hold her in place. The witch rolls her hips upward, the motion sending a jolt through Ariel's spine that makes her toes curl against the rug. "Feel that? That's what you traded him for." Ursula's chuckle vibrates against her back as Ariel's thighs tremble, the friction drawing a traitorous wetness between her own legs. "Now get on your knees."
The stone floor bites into Ariel's skin as she sinks down, her lashes fluttering when Ursula's fingers tangle in her hair. The witch's cock glistens in the candlelight, the scent of brine and arousal thick as Ursula guides her forward. "Open," Ursula murmurs, tapping the tip against Ariel's parted lips. "And remember, every drop you swallow is one more day he breathes."
Ariel closes her eyes as she takes the first six inches, the salt-bitter taste flooding her mouth as Ursula's hips roll. The witch's groan vibrates through her skull, fingers tightening in warning when Ariel's gag reflex twitches. "Deeper," Ursula hisses, and Ariel obeys, her throat working around the intrusion as the last two inches slide past her lips. Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, not from the stretch, but from Eric's wedding band she feels around her ring finger.
"Faster," Ursula commands, her hips pistoning now, the slick slide of her cock over Ariel's tongue punctuated by wet, rhythmic sounds. Ariel's jaw aches, but she keeps pace, her own saliva dripping down her chin as Ursula's breath turns ragged. The witch's thighs tense, Ariel knows the signs by now, and then bitter heat floods her mouth, thicker than usual, pulsing in waves that make her stomach clench.
She swallows on instinct, the aftertaste clinging to her tongue like tar, as Ursula's cock twitches against her palate, still rigid. "Good girl," the witch croons, thumbing away a stray drop from Ariel's chin before tilting her face up. Moonlight catches the tears Ariel refuses to let fall. "But don't look so mournful, pet. You've got just enough of me in that pretty belly to keep your prince alive until..." Ursula's grin is all teeth as she drags the wet tip of her cock along Ariel's flushed cheek. "...next time."
Ariel glares up at her, chest heaving. "You're vile." The insult lacks heat, diluted by the ragged edges of her breath.
Ursula laughs, a deep, rolling sound, and sprawls onto the bed, her plush thighs parting with deliberate slowness. "Ride me," she orders, fingers splaying over her own round stomach. The invitation is obscene: the glistening length of her cock curves upward against her belly, dark as a bruise. "Show me how much you *loathe* me."
Ariel hesitates. But her body moves before her mind can protest, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Ursula's hips. Her fingers press into the softness of the witch's stomach, yielding yet unyielding beneath her touch. When she sinks down, the stretch is familiar now, eight inches of slick, throbbing heat that makes her gasp. Ursula's hands clamp around her waist, guiding her into a rhythm that's anything but gentle. "There," Ursula murmurs, watching Ariel's breasts bounce with each rough thrust. "Isn't that better than pretending?"
Ariel's nails dig into Ursula's shoulders, her thighs trembling with the effort of keeping herself upright. The sea witch's grip tightens, forcing her down harder, deeper, until Ariel's vision blurs at the edges. "Fuck..." she chokes out, her body arching involuntarily as Ursula's cock grinds against a spot that makes her toes curl.
"Louder," Ursula commands, bucking her hips upward. "Let him hear you."
Ariel's breath hitches as she glances toward the door, Eric, still unconscious in their bed chamber. The thought sends a jolt of shame through her, but Ursula's next thrust drives it out, replacing it with a pleasure so sharp it borders on pain. She tries to stifle the moan building in her throat, but Ursula's fingers dig into her hips, forcing her to ride harder, faster, until the sound spills out, raw and unfiltered. "That's it," Ursula purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Let him dream, we both know who really owns you now."
Ariel's thighs burn with exertion, her movements growing erratic as pleasure coils tight in her belly. Each downward thrust sends sparks up her spine, the slick friction between them making every sound obscenely wet. "You're close," Ursula murmurs, her grip tightening, nails biting into Ariel's flesh. "I can feel you clenching around me, desperate for it." The words send a flush of humiliation crawling up Ariel's neck, but her body doesn't care, it arches, trembles, and then shatters, her orgasm crashing over her in waves that leave her gasping.
Ursula doesn't let her recover. The witch's hips snap upward, driving deeper, harder, as Ariel's body convulses around her. "Fuck..." Ariel chokes out, oversensitive and wrung out, but Ursula doesn't stop. She pistons into Ariel's trembling cunt, each thrust punctuated by a possessive growl. "Mine," Ursula snarls, her own climax building, the thick length inside Ariel pulsing with a heat that feels almost alive. "Every fucking inch of you."
Then Ursula stills, her body locking tight as she buries herself to the hilt. Ariel feels it—the hot, relentless spill of something thick and foreign flooding her womb, filling her in a way that shouldn't be possible. Her stomach tenses, a strange, heavy warmth settling low in her belly as Ursula's seed takes root. The witch's laughter is dark with triumph, her fingers tracing the faint swell already forming beneath Ariel's skin. "There," she whispers. "Now you'll never forget who you belong to."
(Some time later.)
Ariel stumbles back to her chamber, her thighs sticky with the proof of Ursula's claim. The door creaks shut behind her, the sound deafening in the silence. Eric shifts in his sleep, murmuring her name, his face soft with dreams she can never share. She slips beneath the sheets, her body trembling as she presses herself against his warmth. His arm curls around her instinctively, pulling her close. "Eric," she chokes out, her fingers clutching at his nightshirt. "I'm so sorry."