54. Naomi

Naomi

So that was how Day 1 of our heat moon started.

No, it wasn't disgust.

And it wasn't heat.

I had no idea what label to put on what came next.

We managed to recover after ruining the kitchen table, and Wild threw a delicious-smelling stew together while I was in the shower.

"Right on time for this stovetop version of campfire stew I made," he said as soon as I entered the room, even though I was too far away to scent, and he had his back to me as he ladled out the first bowl of thick brown soup. I assumed our mate bond must have a doorbell effect — letting him know whenever I was in the vicinity.

"That smells amazing! What's in it?"

Wild ladled out a second bowl while explaining that he'd used the vegetables, meat, and flour I'd picked up when we stopped at the grocery store.

Interestingly, it also included a can from the Norwolf six-pack Aidan had added after showing me what a stout beer was — or maybe that had just been a distraction so I wouldn't notice him slip that bottle of lube into the basket.

With that new thought in my head, I eyed the City King suspiciously as he grabbed bowls of soup from the counter to set down on the kitchen table. The table now carried the strong antiseptic odor of cleaning products and had a lovely kelly green, linen cloth with lace borders placed over it.

"Made enough to last us a few meals," Wild told me as I went to the sink to wash my hands. "After we eat, I'll get some bread going in the oven, and that should be enough to keep us sustained over the next couple of days…"

He trailed off when he turned from the stove to see me wearing Aidan's boxer shorts and another of his Norwolf t-shirts. A spike of territorial anger replaced his good mood.

"All my clothes are either still drying, ripped, or dirty," I quickly reminded him. "This was the only option I had —"

One moment, I was explaining myself, and the next, I was being pushed into the counter. Wild's heavy chest hit my back, and his strong hands tugged Aidan's t-shirt off over my head. With no bra to be had, my breasts were exposed, and my nipples immediately tightened into pebbles in the cool air.

Another ripping sound. This time from below. Wild yanking apart the boxer's front flap so hard that the entire bottom seam opened, exposing my core and releasing the smell of my instant arousal.

A distant crackle of outrage appeared somewhere beyond Wild's sudden intense need to reclaim me. Then Aidan's voice: "Jayzus Christ, man, at least let her eat first!"

But Wild was already inside of me, feeding me his length with one hand while the other braced against the sink, keeping him steady as he carefully entered me from behind.

He wanted — needed to reclaim me. But he didn't wish to hurt me.

"Give me yer mouth, beauty," He leaned in over my shoulder, his lips capturing mine as he eased his way back into my intimate space with an achingly slow thrust.

He didn't have to bother with the slow, careful entry. His desire was once again my desire, surging through me like a flash flood, and my core easily slipped down his throbbing length, taking him to the hilt.

Had Aidan offered up a protest?

We both groaned into the kiss, and Wild banded his guiding arm around my waist as he began driving into me with deep, claiming strokes. Slow at first, then a little faster when his tip found a special spot inside the walls of my sex.

He could feel and match my growing desire with his speed and angle.

Soon, I found myself moaning into his mouth and shuddering around his length as he pumped into me at just the right everything.

That was all Wild needed to tumble over the edge himself. He fell out of our kiss and pulled my hips tight into his. He released with a shout, but his emotions were even louder.

His love and utter obsession crackled so fierce over our bond that another orgasm triggered at my core, arching my spine. My head fell back on his shoulder as I came again with all of Wild's emotions coursing through me .

And that made his softening rod swell again. He returned in an instant to full, pulsing mast.

"By the gods, Wild. Put yourself on mute!" Sea's voice pushed into our heads, irritated and tight. "Or the lot of us will starve to death before this heat moon is done."

Funny, just a few hours ago, I'd begged Wild to let me in, but now as I helplessly kept coming on the re-hardened length pinning me to the sink, I could feel all of it — Wild's insatiable hunger, Sea's and Aidan's reawakened arousals — painful and throbbing.

Wild's unhinged feelings were infecting and being magnified by each of us, like a radio signal amplified so loudly that no other station other than WILD FM could be heard.

And I couldn't stop coming. The orgasm was an endless earthquake, racking my body as Wild released again inside of me with so much ejaculation I could feel our combined release streaming down my thighs.

"Turn it off," I pleaded. "Everyone, turn it off!"

Abruptly, my head became quiet, allowing my body to seize one last time before I fell forward into the sink, where the water was still running.

I didn't realize how dehydrated I'd become with all this "seismic activity" until I found myself greedily gulping from the tap as Wild released one last time, gripping my hips tight as he howled into the air.

Finally, he deflated.

"I'm sorry, Flower," he said out loud. One hand softly grazed my back as he pulled out of me. "You drive me crazy. Literally."

"That's not the correct usage of ‘literally,'" Aidan grumbled somewhere behind us .

Still, we all understood his meaning.

Luckily, the stew easily reheated.

But after my third shower of the day, I gave up on wearing clothes, and over lunch, we established a new rule about muting all our bonds during daytime hours. Wild, however, volunteered to just plain keep his off.

"Believe me when I tell ye, the inside of my head is getting worse by the moment. Ye've no idea how bad I'll be by the time this heat moon is over. Best to cede control back to the True King."

I believed Wild after that bonkers sink sex, but I had to ask Sea, "Why do they call you the True King?"

And that was how I ended up getting a long history lesson — aka the Irish version of what they called the "First Reaping" — aka an explanation for why Sea kept calling me by a name that turned out to mean New Mairi.

Apparently, the First Reaping wasn't prophesied like the second one, and since it took place in the 1500s, it was way less ethical.

Underaged girls and she-wolf babies were kidnapped and raised by various families across the four kingdoms until they reached heating age. Also, the newly minted Scottish Queen, Mairi — already wolf-mated and pregnant — was also taken when the Sea, Wild, and Dublin kings realized she was their fated mate at first sight.

What happened from there bore a striking resemblance to what happened to me.

The 1500s Irish Wolves were way more brutal, but apparently, they had just enough honor and care to let their kidnapped she-wolves "choose" their mates when they went into heat .

The original kidnappees actually held out way longer than the W?lfennites. It took a couple of what they called St. Patrick weeks — apparently, the calendar system was also introduced and credited to that patron saint.

But a couple of she-wolves went into heat. Then the rest of them, including Mairi, the queen of the Scottish Wolves, submitted to their fates after a performance from the rest of the unmated wolves.

However, that was where things diverged.

"The Wild King lost all sense of himself at the smell of Mairi's heat," Wild told me, his voice lowering with confession. "In his lust to have her first, he killed the Sea King before the other could reach her. The Dublin King was allowed to share her after he unknotted, but it is said the Wild King's thrall was so great — he did not realize the magnitude of what he'd done until Mairi was impregnated with two more babes and her heat was cleared from his nose."

I gasped at that unexpected turn in the story.

"You are right to gasp in horror. It remains a black mark upon my line to this day." Even though it took place hundreds of years ago, Wild's expression became miserable and somber. "Some say our line is cursed and that the Terrible Belfast Mess happened because of our ancestor's actions at that Bloody Wedding."

"No, Wild." I reached across the table to place my hand on top of his. "None of that was your line's fault. Or yours."

Wild just averted his gaze from me to Sea. "You can tell her the rest."

Sea did so, his expression less miserable but just as somber. "For that reason, after the heat moon, it was agreed that the original Scottish babe would continue the line of Sea and serve as the True King of Ireland. The secret kingdom, originally gifted to the Wild Wolves by the old gods, was ceded to the Sea Wolves."

Wild withdrew his hand from underneath mine as Sea finished the tragic story. "After the new Sea King was born with the features of his father, both the Dublin and Wild Kings swore their fealty to the baby king in a blood oath. Mairi ruled over the Sea Kingdom until he came of age. Of course, the Belfast Priest at the time gave no such oath, and the Dublin King's track record for respecting the old ways has been spotty at best."

Sea threw a pointed look at Aidan, who was sitting next to me, across from him and Wild.

"Sure, don't blame my line for shedding outdated customs and keeping up with the times, as opposed to playing by a rulebook from nearly five hundred years ago."

Sea and Wild glowered at him in a way that I suspected would have led to an argument if I hadn't asked, "Was that all? The First Reaping's Wild King killed the First Reaping's Sea King, and all he had to do was give up the secret kingdom and swear fealty to a baby to make up for it?"

A tense silence greeted my question.

Eventually, Sea, the apparent True King, answered, "No, that wasn't all he had to do. But that is a story for another time."

"Speaking of stories," Aidan said before I could ask any more questions. "I could use some help figuring out how to handle this offer I received a couple of days ago from one of the Colorado princesses…"