Chapter 18

Wild Man

Istand close behind and to the side of my female, my attention focused on the look on her face. Her expression is serious, as if she's really concentrating on what she's doing. Her eyebrows are a straight line and her lips are parted with the tip of her tongue touching the bottom one.

I desperately want to take that tongue between my lips and taste her, but she's still keeping her mouth from me.

But that's fine. She'll give me what I want.

Momorsuddenly straightens, her back going stiff and her eyes tracking movement in the knee deep water we're in. A moment later, her hand darts forward, the spear she's holding dunking beneath the clear surface.

She pulls it out and spins to face me, grinning so big her cheeks puff out.

"I did it!" she shouts, holding up a wiggling fish speared on the end.

I chuckle. "Good, momor." I still struggle with finding my words, but they're coming easier with each day. "Dinner for you." I pluck the fish from the spear and toss it on the bank. "Again. Dinner for me."

She turns back, lifting the arm holding the spear, ready to stab another fish.

My eyes slide down her back and over the roundness of her backside. I want to go to her and shove myself inside her tight hole. To rut in her wetness until she squeezes me, and I shoot my seed in her womb.

Cock and pussy. That's what she called my thing and the place between her legs. I like the words, and from the way my female's breathing picks up when I use them, she likes them too. Or she likes when I say them.

My cock twitches, but I push my need down. Mostly, when the need to take momor hits, I take her wherever we are, no matter what we're doing, but I'm enjoying watching her hunt for our food. There's no need for her to do this—I will always provide for her—but when she came to me and asked if I would teach her, I couldn't deny her. And from the smile on her face, this makes her happy.

She told me how her people hunt for fish. It seems weird and a lot more.

A few minutes later, Ever spins around and holds up her spear, another fish with beady eyes stuck on the end. She angles it toward me, her eyes glowing proudly.

"Dinner for you, and it's a big one." She grins.

I grin back, snatching the fish off the end. "Now we clean."

Her full pink lips curve downward and her little nose wrinkles. "I caught the fish. You get to clean them."

We walk out of the water, and I grab the other fish. She follows me to a rock that's flat on top. I plop both fish down while she sits on a smaller rock beside the bigger one. She eyes the fish, her nose wrinkling, when I begin cutting off the head.

"My dad tried his best to get me to clean the fish we would catch, but I could never stomach it," she says, turning her face away.

"Did you fish much?" I ask, running the knife along the side of the fish to scrape away the scales.

"We were outdoors a lot. My dad took me and my brothers camping several times a year, and we either hunted or fished for our food."

She sits with her arms behind her to prop herself up and her legs lay in front of her, crossed at her feet. The new position pushes out her tits. The tips—nipples are what she called them—are pointed and hard from the cool water. I'm tempted to lean over and suck one into my mouth.

I look back down at the fish and flip it over to scrape the other side. "Did you like camping?"

"I loved it." I can hear the smile in her voice. "Most of the time anyway. Until I got older and wanted to hang out with boys and my friends more."

I jerk my eyes to her, my lips pressed into a line. "Boys?" I ask, my voice deepening.

Her eyes slide to me and she looks like she wants to laugh. "Yes, boys, Wild Man."

"You were with boys?" The hand I have wrapped around the knife tightens. "Did you fuck them?"

Her chin moves upward, like she's looking down her nose at me. "Yes, I did. With a few of them anyway. I had a life before you took me."

"Did you give them your mouth?"

"Some of them, yes."

My mood darkens. I want to take the knife I'm strangling and jam it down the throat of every boy she gave her mouth to. "How many?"

My face must give away the anger I'm feeling because my female sits up, brushing her hands against each other before placing them on her thighs.

"Wild Man," she starts, but I cut her off.

"How many, momor," I growl.

Her brows fall and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. "Five."

I drop the knife and put both hands on the rock, leaning toward her. She tilts her body back, as if I would ever let her get away from me. "You gave five boys my lips, but won't let me have them?"

A fire starts in her eyes, which only makes my anger hotter.

"Yes. You don't get them after everything you've done to me."

I want to wrap my hands around her slender throat and squeeze until her eyes water and she begs me to let her go. To shake her until she gives in.

"You wanted what I did."

Her brown eyes flash again and the muscles in her jaw move. "I may want it now, but I didn't at first. I'll never forget the pain you caused me."

Remembering the first few times I took her and the way she fought me, has my cock filling up and growing hard. Then the expression that was on her face comes to mind. The pain that was in her eyes and the screams she let out when I entered her. I don't regret taking my female. She needed to know she was mine. My only regret is the pain the act caused.

"You're mine, momor," I growl between my teeth. "You belong to me. As your male, it right I fuck you. It nature for male to mate his female. To take and show her who alpha is. To show how strong he is so she know he protect her."

"You're delusional." I frown, not understanding that word. "You may think the world works that way, and maybe it does out here, but I'm from a different place where it doesn't. We aren't animals to be dominated. There are no alphas who need to master or intimidate their females. Where I come from, what you did in the beginning is called rape."

The way she says that last word, it sounds like something bad. "Rape?"

"It means fucking someone who doesn't want it. People are put away for the things you did to me." At my look, she explains in words I'll understand. "They're put in a small room with bars for years, and they're only let out when people say they can, and only for a little while before they're put back."

My fingers dig into the rock when I think about being put into such a place.

"You would put me there?"

Some of the anger falls from her face. "No," she says softly. "I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

Her eyes fall to her lap and her hair slides forward. Her voice is just as soft when she answers. "I don't know. Maybe because I'm just as delusional as you."

I still don't know what that word means, but I get the feeling it's not good either.

She looks up and her eyes look sad. "Even if I do want you to touch me now, you're still hurting me every day you keep me here. I miss my family and friends."

"Boys," I growl.

She shakes her head. "You mean men. I stopped being with boys a long time ago." I scowl, knowing what she means. "No, Wild Man, I don't miss other men, except my dad and brothers."

My eyes narrow. "You would leave me?"

Her answer doesn't come right away, but when it does, my anger comes back double.

"Yes, Fey. I would. I don't belong here."

My hand flashes out, and I wrap my fingers around her throat. I drag her toward me until our faces are so close I can feel her breath on my lips. "Mine, momor. You never leave."

I can tell she wants to fight me on this. The black circle in the center of her eyes gets bigger and the line of her lips goes straight. But she doesn't argue. She doesn't agree with me either.

Our mouths are so close, I could easily bring her lips to mine. I don't. She'll give them to me on her own.

We stare at each other for a moment. When her face turns red from my tight grip, I release my fingers from her throat.

We both notice the blood at the same time. While I was leaning my hands on the rock I must have cut myself on the knife. My anger was so hot that I didn't notice.

As soon as momor sees the blood, her temper changes, and a frown appears between her eyes. She picks up my hand and flips it over. There's a large gash that's still oozing blood.

Uncaring of the cut, I watch her face, liking when I see the worry on her face. My female may want to leave this place, but I don't think she wants to leave me.

"Oh my, God." Her voice is low. "What have you done to yourself? You stupid man."

The fish are forgotten as she scrambles up from the rock. I let her drag me back to the water. Once we're waist deep, she dips my hand under the surface, and I barely feel the sting.

"Does it hurt?" she asks, looking up at me past the hair that's fallen in her face.

Water drips from my other hand when I lift it to push the hair away. "No."

The lines beside her eyes tighten. "I don't believe you."

I flex my fingers in hers to prove my point. I hardly feel anything. A cut from a knife on my hand is nothing compared to some of the other things I've been through. And nothing compares to the pain of thinking about her leaving.

She grips my hand tighter, holding my fingers together so I can't move them. "Don't do that."

"Tell me about family," I say as she continues to look at my hand. "Why would you leave me to go to them?"

She answers without looking at me. "Because I love them."

"What makes you love them?"

"They care about me, and I know they're worried about what's happened to me." Her small finger gently slides over my palm, tracing the outside of the cut. "I hate knowing I'm putting them through that. My father and brothers are very protective of me." She looks up, meeting my eyes. "You know how you get angry if you think something might happen to me?" I give her a jerky nod. "They are the same. They're like you when it comes to something hurting me. They'll find me, Wild Man, and take me away. And when they do, I worry what they'll do to you. I don't want to see you hurt any more than you want to see me hurt."

It's not the first time she's told me this. I'd like to see her family try to take her from me. No one, man or creature, will come near my female. I'll kill anything that comes between me and her.

For now, I ignore her warning. "Tell me about father and brothers. What are they like?"

A smile curves her lips. "You actually remind me of them a little." I raise my brow at that and she laughs. "They go crazy when they think I'm in danger. I can't count how many times my brothers have threatened boys if they came near me."

There's that word again.

Boys.

I'll kill them all.

Before my temper rises, she continues, rushing her words as if she knows her mistake.

"It was a headache having them around sometimes. I couldn't go anywhere without at least one of them with me. But as much as I hated it, I also loved the closeness we all share."

"How many brothers?"

"Four."

She takes my hand and pulls me out of the water. Grabbing the cloth I use to cover myself, she attempts to rip a piece off. I take it from her when she has trouble and easily tear off a strip.

"Thanks."

She wraps the piece around my hand and ties it off on the back. Once she's done, I grab her hand and pull her to a fallen tree. I sit with my back to it and pull her down between my spread legs. She leans back against me, a small breath leaving her.

She continues talking without me asking.

"My oldest brother is Maddox, but we all call him Mad for short. He's eight years older than me and takes his role as big brother very seriously. I feel horrible for the people around him right now because he's cranky on the best of days. I'm sure by now he's a beast to be around because he doesn't know what's happened to me."

Her gaze dips off to the water.

"Next is Ethan, who's six years older. He's the black sheep of the family."

"Black sheep?" I ask, not understanding this term.

"The rebel. He does the opposite of what my father says. Something happened between them years ago and neither of them will talk about it. Whatever it was caused a rift between them and it's never healed. Ethan lives to piss off our dad."

I pick up a lock of her hair and twist it around my finger. She watches the movement with a small smile

"Spencer is five years older. He's the nerd and can tell you everything there is to know about computers and technology." She sees my confused expression and explains. "Computers are metal boxes that can store, retrieve, and process information. When Spencer was thirteen, he hacked into the Pentagon's database—the Pentagon is the government and a database is where they store information. I thought Dad was going to have a heart attack when he found out. Luckily, Spencer was able to hide his trail so the government could never locate where the hack came from."

The outside world seems too big.

"And then there's Joseph, or Joe," Momor continues. "He and I are the closest because there's only three years between us. He's more sensitive than my other brothers, and likes to fuck with our older siblings. But he has a short fuse. When he gets angry, people around him know to stay away.

"One girl with many boys. Like Devika."

She lays her arm on top of mine that I have wrapped around her waist. Her fingers play with the dark hair. I see from the side of her face that she's still smiling.

"Mom really wanted a girl, so they kept trying until I came along."

"What about Noeny?"

Her expression turns sad. "Mom died when I was two. She got sick and never got better."

I tighten my arm around her. Using my chin, I brush away the hair on her shoulder and kiss the side of her neck over my mark.

"I remember Noeny and Peepa talking about having baby. She had one in stomach when she died, but her belly wasn't round yet."

One of the few memories I still have of Noeny and Peepa was when they told me I was going to be a big brother. I was so excited. That was a few days before we came to the forest. It was supposed to be our last adventure before Noeny had the baby.

"Oh, Fey." Momor turns around and scoots close so her knees touch the inside of my thighs. I like when she uses my name. I like when she calls me Wild Man too. One of her hands goes to my cheek and the other lays on my chest where my heart is. Her eyes glisten, like she's about to cry. "I'm so sorry."

I like this side of my female. The one who shows she cares for me. She's fought me so much since I claimed her, but her fights are coming less and less.

I'll make her love me like she loves her family, so she'll never want to leave.

"It was long ago," I say, placing my hand over hers on my chest.

Her smile is sad when she gives it to me. "I bet you would have been a great big brother."

I don't know if she's right, but when I was a boy, I liked the thought of having a little brother or sister.

Momorleans forward and presses her face into my neck. I grab her by the waist and pick her up so her knees are on either side of my hips. The position puts her pussy right over my cock. I'm hard, because I usually am when she's this close, but I don't try to enter her.

Now's not the time for fucking. Right now, I just want to hold my female close.