Page 23

Unwelcome Visitor

Sadie

The survey wasn’t over yet.

Tadhg’s kiss was nothing like the chaste one he’d given me the day before.

But it wasn’t like the Shadow King’s either.

He slowly consumed my mouth, drawing from my lips in a way that made my tummy flutter and kick.

Soon I was whimpering, pressing myself into the steel rod between us, making desperate little sounds because my stomach and the barrier wall of his white underwear were in the way, blocking me from access.

Tadhg pulled back abruptly.

“Aw, Strawberry, ye’re making this too hard on me. The sounds coming out of ye are making me want to claim you, ritual be damned.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath coming in harsh bursts.

“I’ve got to stop.”

“Okay, I understand. We’ll stop,” I agreed.

Right before our lips crashed together again.

This time, he kissed down my neck, his teeth, tongue, and lips grazing a hot path.

When he reached one of my heavy breasts and drew it into his mouth, I gasped.

His tongue swirled?—

That felt good.

Then he sucked.

That felt even better.

“Oh, Tadhg! Ohhh…”

His mouth was full, but I didn’t need him to speak the words.

I could feel them: Erogenous response detected.

I wasn’t a wolf, but I lost control, humping his thigh with desperate little whimpers, like a starved animal begging for food.

My clit had swollen again, demanding attention.

But when I tried to reach down, Tadhg caught my wrist in his too-strong grip.

“Don’t be naughty, Strawberry,” he warned, voice dark and rough.

“Use your Mountain King if you’ve a need to get off.”

Need was the right word.

A hot, squirmy frustration washed through me as I tried to figure out what he meant.

Then he rolled us, bringing me with him, twisting his powerful legs to keep me trapped between them as he laid flat on his back.

Alarm cut through my haze of need.

Reuben had warned me—sternly—against ever trying to get on top.

“It’s the male’s position, Sadie. And besides, you’d probably crush me, big as you are.”

But Tadhg just pulled himself out, hard and veiny, and settled me between his thighs.

Parting my folds with his long, thick length as he warned, “Don’t open yer legs, no matter how good it feels. Ye cannot let me in. But you can use me however you need, Strawberry. Rub that little clittie over this cock ye’ve made so hard.”

I’d had sex before.

Penetrative sex, at that.

But Tadhg made me feel like a virgin.

Innocent and awkward.

I relished the press of his chest against my sensitive breasts, the thick ridge of him parting my slick folds.

I moved tentatively between his legs, though, afraid I was doing everything wrong.

But then, Tadhg gazed up at me with that same tender, patient-teacher look.

“Brilliant. That’s exactly right, Strawberry. Just like that. You’re slipping up my cock so good.”

How could someone so kind talk so dirty?

I moaned as a new orgasm began to build, swift and blinding.

“Let him hear it,” Tadhg whispered in my ear.

I didn’t need a pronoun clarification to know who he meant.

The High King. The one who might be watching.

“Tell him how good it feels to rub that clittie up and down my cock.”

It did.

It did.

“Oh—I’m coming. I’m coming again. Too fast. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Ever.” Tadhg’s voice darkened, unexpectedly harsh.

“This cock belongs to you, Strawberry. You use it however you want.”

I’d never imagined wanting a piece of someone’s body as a gift.

But the way he said it—my ownership of him—sent the waves rushing higher, cresting fast.

Suddenly, I was drowning.

Shamelessly rubbing my drenched slit against his thick length, lost in the pleasure.

He didn’t move. Just held me—one hand cradling my bottom, firm enough to guide me, loose enough to let me grind.

The orgasm burst through me.

This was for me. All for me— Until Tadhg’s whole body shuddered beneath mine and something hot spurted between our stomachs.

“Well, I’m the one saying sorry now, aren’t I?” There was a rueful note in his voice as we both came down from our releases.

“I tried to wait until I could swap with the Shadow King in the loo. But you’re too much, Strawberry. Just too much.”

Too much .

I’d felt that way about myself all my life.

But the way he said it made me grin into his neck.

“Good Too Much or Bad Too Much ?”

He took my face in his large hands and lifted it.

“Good Too Much. If ye don’t already know that, you will by the time ye earn the High King’s yes.”

The High King.

The thought of the still-unseen male behind the wall who could bring this all to a screeching halt at any moment sobered my playful mood.

“But what if he?—”

Tadhg kissed me before I could finish the question.

And by the time he was done, the Shadow King was standing next to the bed with a wet towel mitt in his hand and a dry bath towel slung over his shoulder.

I suspected, but didn’t ask if he’d watched me hump Tadhg to a second release.

Either way, the survey still wasn’t done.

Several more erogenous responses were recorded for what I could only hope was strictly a mental record.

Wet washcloths between my legs?

Check.

Squeezing and licking over my round belly?

X.

“Aw, that’s too bad, Strawberry,” Tadhg lamented.

“That’s the Shadow King’s favorite bit on your body.”

How he knew that, I had no idea.

But the Shadow King himself confirmed that kisses to the side of my neck made me shiver.

I also liked what Tadhg called the Lotus Snog n’ Grab , which was basically the Shadow King and me “slogging” with my legs wrapped around his waist while he kneaded my bottom with those long, strong fingers—and Tadhg warned him with the sharpness of a schoolmarm to keep his cock trapped against my stomach.

Then the Shadow King began kissing down my neck, and the warnings abruptly turned to: “Mind your teeth, lad. Mind your?—”

The Shadow King suddenly pulled away, disentangling himself and all but running out of the room.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, watching him go.

“Opposite.” Tadhg was there in an instant, taking the silent king’s place between my thrown-off legs.

Though thanks to the size of my thighs and the width of his waist, ours was less lotus and more me butterflying my knees over Tadhg’s tree-trunk thighs while he revisited the erogenous zone of my breasts.

I didn’t need him to tell me what his favorite bit on my body was.

But I did want to know why the Shadow King had run out.

“Is he sick? Is it a reaction to going so long between meals?”

“No, he’s just not used to holding himself back, is all. The Shadow King’s line is genetically unbothered. But no-fuss self-regulation is only an asset until a cute patootie mate gets hand-delivered to your door. I reckon he’s having a hell of a time not biting you.”

I scrunched my forehead.

“But why would he…?”

“Biting’s the way we make our claims in bear world. We leave a permanent mating mark. But the rule is?—”

Now it was my turn to interrupt.

“The High King has the first right to that,” I guessed.

Tadhg rested his forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to apologize.”

He chuffed.

“ You’re not to apologize to me . I’m allowed to grovel as much as I want.”

The Shadow King returned before I could argue.

And soon after that, we unlocked another erogenous response—kissing the Shadow King over my shoulder while Tadhg sucked on my breasts in front, his hand rubbing between my folds.

By the time the sun disappeared behind the lake on the wall, they’d kept their promise to kiss me everywhere.

And I was little more than a puddle.

“Alright, enough of that.” Tadhg pulled my boneless body off the circular mattress and ran another wet bath mitt over me while the Shadow King remade the bed with sheets he produced out of nowhere.

“You’ve been such a good bear for us, Strawberry,” he said once I was clean.

He guided me over to the freshly made bed.

“Now it’s time for you to get some much-needed rest and recovery.”

He was right.

I was tired and sore in nearly all of my major erogenous zones—and a few places I’d never considered, like the backs of my thighs.

It took effort just to stand through Tadhg’s attentive cleaning.

Still, a small fizz of protest bubbled in my chest. I didn’t want the day to end.

If my eyes weren’t already drooping shut as Tadhg covered me with a fresh blanket the Shadow King handed him, I might’ve made a strong case for continuing the survey.

But sleep dragged me under, and the last thing I heard was Tadhg saying, “Good night, Sadie Strawberry.”

Good night, indeed.

I slept on a sea of deep, satisfied black.

Until I woke to find my mother standing over the bed.

“You dirty, dirty girl!”

A cold, nasty shame froze my blood.

“Mama, what are you doing here?”

If she heard my question, it didn’t show.

Her face remained a rictus of shadows and judgment as she shrieked, “How could you? I’m going to lock you in your room! This time for a thousand years!”

“No, don’t! Please, don’t?—”

“Sadie!” another voice said.

A familiar voice.

But my mother yelled over him.

“Jezebel. Harlot! You think these boys want you? How stupid can you be?”

Suddenly, I was back in my room in St. Ailbe.

Boarded-up windows. Metal door.

The sound of locks clunking all around.

No way out.

“Mama, don’t!”

“Sadie!” the other voice said again.

“Mama!” I tried to pound on the door with my fist, but my arm was too weak.

My knocks weren’t even strong enough to make a sound.

Tears filled my eyes as I sobbed, “Please, Mama! Don’t! Let me?—”

“Jaysus Christ, Sadie. Wake up! Wake up right feckin’ now.”

I couldn’t pound on the metal door.

But a strong pair of hands shook me—shook me so hard my eyes popped open and there he was…

…a red-haired giant in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, standing over me.

I gasped out with relief.

“Tadhg! Oh my goodness, Tadhg.”

I grabbed one of his arms, clinging to him like a buoy in the lake.

Then I burst out crying.

And then he was crawling into bed with me.

“It’s alright, Strawberry. I’m here for you.”

He wrapped me in his strong arms. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Yes, he was.

And that only made me cry harder, which somehow felt even more embarrassing than screaming out my release while the Shadow King mercilessly lapped his tongue between my legs.

“The High King!” I choked out.

“I don’t… I don’t want him to see me like…”

I was crying too hard to continue, but I didn’t have to finish.

There came a soft electronic whirr, and the room went pitch black with the disappearance of the softly lit picture on the lake view wall.

“It’s just us now. Cry as much as you want.”

I didn’t want to cry.

But I couldn’t stop.

Tadhg held me against his chest until I shuddered to a stop.

Then he kissed the top of my head and asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” I answered miserably, right before adding, “It was just a stupid nightmare about my mother. I liked my training so much. But I guess my head is confused or something. And I have sticks, but I don’t have any whittling knives, so I can’t work through things like I usually do. And anyway, my mother is what Naomi would call ‘the worst.’ She’s lied to me my entire life, and… and I don’t know why I’m letting her get to me like this.”

“Parents are a hell of a thing.” Tadhg gathered me even tighter in his arms. “They get in your head even after you accept they’re a walking bog sack of issues who had no business having children in the first place. I haven’t talked to my father in years, and I still hear his voice laying into me when I feck up at work.”

“Do you have nightmares, too?”

“About him? No.”

I waited for him to tell me who he did have nightmares about.

But nothing came after that.

Just me, sighing in the dark as my eyes fluttered closed, with Tadhg’s strong arms wrapped around me.

I fell asleep in Tadhg’s arms but woke up alone the next day with savory smells wafting into my nose.

I opened my eyes to find a large, oval serving dish on a wheeled cart covered in a pristine white cloth—along with a note.

We fear we cannot share a meal with you without wanting to eat you, too.

Here’s something to help you think while you recover from our devotion—a wee gift to stab your mother with the next time she dares to crash into your dreams. —TMK

Did TMK stand for the Mountain King?

And what gift could he possibly be talking about?

My breath caught when I saw the rolled-up piece of supple leather lying on the far side of the tray.

Then I let that same breath go when I unrolled what turned out to be a sheath case—and found a set of five whittling knives with sturdy wooden handles.

Not just a standard carver, but also a hook knife for scooping and hollowing, a detail knife with a finer blade, a chip knife, and an angle-bladed gouge for texture and lettering work.

I couldn’t believe it.

The Mountain King had given me a gift.

The most thoughtful, thoughtful gift I’d ever received in my life.

My eyes filled with tears.

Then my chest filled with terror unlike any I’d ever known, even when a bear reared up in front of my path to stop me from fleeing.

Because, though such a short time had passed, I could already feel myself falling.

And if the High King didn’t say yes before I hit the ground, this was going to hurt.

Much worse than a broken ego.

It would shatter me.