“Calm yerself, Strawberry. I’m not hurtin’ ye ever.” Tadhg’s rough Mountain accent was back. “Ye know that. And ye’ve got the Secret Kingdom if it’s truly too uncomfortable.”
The Secret Kingdom… the safe word I’d been told to use at any time.
This was the first time I’d even considered it. His fingers were so big, so thick—wider and longer than Reuben’s penis.
They felt like an invasion. Until I heeded his words. Calmed myself. Forced my breath to come out in intentional exhales instead of frantic gasps.
“That’s right, that’s right. Ye’re so good at this, Strawberry. I’m going to need ye to open your legs wider. Let me into that sweet cunt.”
I spread my legs, a helpless puppet under his coarse, hypnotic words.
“Good, Strawberry. Now give me my welcome. Make yerself want this. Get yerself so wet I can get a third finger into you without a problem.”
His instructions didn’t make any sense. Yet somehow they did.
Instinctively, my heels dug into the mattress again—this time so I could grind my hips, building heat until I was slick enough to push down on the invading fingers.
Then I started undulating, instead of avoiding his hand.
“Aw, look at ye riding my hand, Strawberry.” Tadhg rested his chin on my neck and curled his beefy arm around my belly.His voice took on a prideful tone. “Neither of us have ever seen anything so sexy, have we? Thank ye for this gift. Ye going to cream for me?”
I wasn’t a wolf.
And I wasn’t a cat.
But soon I was mewing, then creaming, as Tadhg called it, all over his fingers.
The Shadow King was rubbing himself through his boxers, a sign I’d begun to appreciate. Usually, he excused himself to the washroom. But I loved when he got so worked up he couldn’t help but touch himself. Like he, too, was a victim of the Spring Fire.
But the Spring Fire was me. Grinding myself with wanton abandon on Tadhg’s thick, fully seated fingers.
“Good, Strawberry. Such a good Strawberry, taking my two fingers like a queen. Tell me you want the third one. Beg me sweetly to put it in your tight little cunt.”
His words were so unnecessarily coarse. Sometimes I couldn’t believe this was the same male who tucked me into bed with a soft kiss to my forehead every night.
But his dirty words sent a rush of heat through me. “Third one!” I gasped out.
“Manners, Strawberry,” Tadhg chastised in his schoolmarm voice. “Ask your Mountain King nicely.”
“Please, Mountain King!” I gasped. “Please, may I have the third one?”
Just like the Shadow King had, Tadhg fully withdrew. But instead of immediately working his index finger in, his invading hand found one of my breasts, smearing it with my own essence.
Then he used the wet to play with my nipple.
A piercing spike of pleasure shot from my chest to my core, making me cry out. But it wasn’t enough—because now I sat empty.
My channel had been too tight before, according to Tadhg. But now it felt like it was gaping open, hollowed out with need. Panting for…
“More. Oh goodness, please! More, more!”
“Shadow King, come have your dessert,” Tadhg invited. “Help me hold her down while I perform a new survey question.”
A new survey question,I wondered—right before the Mountain King plunged not three, but allfourfingers into my sex.
Taking what he wanted from me with rough, hard strokes.
I could barely describe the invasion. Tadhg’s fingers filled me up, stretching me to my very brink.
