I shivered at the thought—at the intimacy of it. Four mates, bound to me forever, their presence a constant warmth in my mind.
"Tell me about the bonds," I said softly, tucking myself more firmly against his side. The heat was a low simmer in my blood—not urgent yet, but building. "How do they work? I know how it is with humans…but this is much more than what I have been told about."
Kaelan was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on my scales. Through the bond, I felt him gathering his thoughts—felt the weight of centuries of knowledge.
"A mating bond is the deepest connection two sirens can share," he said finally. "It's not just physical—not just the markor the claiming. It's a joining of souls. A promise that transcends death itself." His voice dropped lower, more reverent. "When I bit you, when the bond snapped into place, I gave you a piece of myself. My strength, my protection, my devotion—they're yours now, woven into the fabric of your being. You gave me the same. Your trust, your love, your surrender—they live inside me now, as vital as my own heartbeat."
I felt tears prick at my eyes—emotion swelling in my chest. Through the bond, I could feel the truth of his words. His presence inside me wasn't just a feeling—it was a fundamental part of who I was now. As essential as breathing.
"Four bonds," I whispered. "Four pieces of myself, given away."
"Not given away." His arms tightened around me. "Shared. Multiplied. You didn't lose anything in the bonding, Lily. You gained four hearts that beat in time with yours. Four souls that will protect you, cherish you, worship you until the end of time."
A fresh wave of heat rolled through me, sharper than before, and I gasped as my core clenched with sudden need. The conversation had distracted me, but now my body demanded attention again—demanded to be filled, to be claimed, to be satisfied.
"Kaelan," I breathed, my hands fisting in the furs beneath us. "It's starting again?—"
"I know." His voice dropped to that low rumble that made my bones vibrate. "I can feel it through the bond. Your need, rising like a tide." His hand slid down my stomach, toward my vent. "Let me take care of you."
His fingers found my vent already open, already slick with need. He stroked along the sensitive folds, and I moaned at the gentleness of his touch—so different from the urgent claiming in the water.
"Here," he murmured, pressing me back into the furs. "In the nest you built. Let me worship you properly." He kissed down my body with agonizing slowness—my throat, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts. His mouth found one nipple and drew it between his lips, sucking gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. I arched into his touch, my hands threading through his dark hair.
"Please," I gasped as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same thorough attention. "Please, I need?—"
"Patience." His mouth moved lower, kissing across my stomach, following the line where my human skin met siren scales. His lips found the sensitive transition point and lingered there, his tongue tracing along the edge until I was writhing beneath him. When he reached my vent, he paused, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh.
"So beautiful," he murmured, his fingers spreading me open, exposing me to his gaze. "Pink and perfect and dripping for me." His tongue traced along the edge of my vent, tasting me, and I cried out at the sensation. His tongue was hot and agile, stroking along my sensitive folds with devastating skill. He found my entrance and pressed inside, tasting the deepest parts of me, and I sobbed at the intimacy of it.
"Delicious," he growled against my flesh, the vibration making me shudder. "You taste like mine."
His tongue found a soft spot on my vent, and circled it with maddening precision—slow, deliberate strokes that built the pleasure in layers. He seemed determined to take his time, to draw out every sensation until I was begging for release.
"More," I gasped, my hands fisting in his hair. "Please, Kaelan—I need more?—"
He gave me more. Two fingers pressed inside me, curling to find that perfect spot, as his tongue continued its relentless assault on my vent entrance. He stroked and circled andpressed, building the pleasure from two directions at once, until I was trembling on the edge of release.
"Come for me," he commanded against my flesh. "Let me taste you."
I shattered, pleasure crashing through me in waves, my inner walls clenching around his fingers. He worked me through it, his tongue never stopping, drawing out the orgasm until I was sobbing with overstimulation.
He didn't stop. His fingers kept moving, kept stroking that spot inside me. His tongue kept circling my oversensitive vent The pleasure built again, sharper now, edged with almost-pain.
"Again," he demanded. "I want to feel you come apart on my tongue."
The second orgasm hit harder than the first, ripping through me with devastating intensity. And before I could recover, before I could catch my breath, he was surging up my body, his cock pressing against my entrance.
"Now," he growled, and thrust home in one smooth stroke.
I screamed as he filled me—every ridge stretching my sensitive walls, the fullness overwhelming after the orgasms he'd wrung from me. My inner muscles clenched around him involuntarily, oversensitive and swollen, and he groaned at the tight grip of my body.
"So tight," he gasped, holding himself still, buried to the hilt. "Even tighter after coming. I can feel every flutter of your walls around me." He began to move, and the sensation was almost too much—pleasure and overstimulation blurring together into something that made my vision blur. Each thrust of his ridges against my sensitive walls sent sparks shooting through my entire body. Each stroke against that spot deep inside me made me cry out with pleasure that bordered on pain.
"Too much," I sobbed, even as my body clenched around him, even as the pleasure built impossibly higher. "It's too much?—"
"You can take it." His pace never faltered, each thrust deep and thorough. "You were made for this. Made to be filled over and over until you can't think of anything but the pleasure." His hand found the soft spot at the entrance of my vent, stroking it in time with his thrusts. "Let go. I've got you."
The orgasm crashed through me without warning—sudden and devastating, my entire body convulsing around him. I felt his control snap, felt his thrusts grow harder, faster, more desperate. His knot swelled against my entrance, pressing for entry, and I bore down on it with the last of my strength. When it popped inside, locking us together, I came again—a continuous wave of pleasure that went on and on as his release flooded my depths. I could feel him through the bond—his overwhelming satisfaction, his fierce possessiveness, his love burning like a steady flame.
