The following morning, we were on the move again, heading south for Baltimore. The train was quiet so Patch taught me Irish folk songs, singing in a pleasant baritone, his accent giving the melody an attractive lilt that seemed to flip a switch in my libido.
Who'd have thought a voice could make a person this aroused?
"Are these Selkie songs or human ones?" I asked, trying to stop him singing for long enough for me to cool down a bit.
Patch shrugged. "Originally? Who knows? They're old enough that they were likely sung by human and Selkie together, back when they mixed freely and no one much cared. Now, I doubt there are any humans who would remember them, so I suppose we could call them Selkie songs."
"Sad," I commented.
"Maybe one day things will change."
I thought back to when they’d told me all the reasons they couldn’t trust humans enough to come into the light. As long as humans couldn't make peace with each other, as long as we used religion and race and who knows what else as an excuse to be thoroughly shitty to each other, then it made sense.
"We're not all like that," I said, a little meekly, wanting to stand up for my species but knowing that was probably a futile task.
"And Selkies aren't all nice, peaceable, tolerant fellows like me," said Patch, with a wan smile. "Let me tell you, there are those among us who could give the worst of you a run for your money, who'd like to wipe your kind from the face of the earth, if there weren't so many of you and so few of us."
"Good to know."
"Things change slowly."
We went back to songs.
Delays on the train meant that we checked into our hotel in Baltimore that night. Patch looked at his watch and pulled a face.
“Looks like we won’t be able to check it out until tomorrow.”
“First thing in the morning would be safer, anyway.”
Determined to put the delay from our minds, Patch and I ordered room service again and then played cards for candies.
"You’re cheating."
"I'm not," I put my hand on my heart, "I swear."
"I've been warned about your kind."
"Humans?"
"Women. And, certainly don't trust the pretty dark-haired ones who lure you in with card games and false promises."
I heard the whole sentence but the word 'pretty' stuck in my head and throbbed there. Patch thought I was pretty. Not that it mattered, of course, but... Well, it was nice to know.
I crunched a chocolate-covered peanut.
"You're eating your stake," said Patch in mock shock. "That is an example of conspicuous wealth and rampant consumerism. When you can eat your money, then you've got too much of it."
"Nobody's stopping you from winning it back." I grinned, shuffling the cards. "If you've got the stones."
"Nobody calls a Selkie's stones into question. Deal."
Patch won the next hand but I noticed my pile of candy had gone down more than it should have.
"Have you been eating my money?"
Patch pulled an affronted face. "Woog I?" he asked through a mouthful of peanut.
"And you called me a cheat. You thief."
I grabbed his hand, still full of my candies, and as I pulled it, cards fell out of his sleeve.
Patch swallowed.
"Now, I can explain that."
"Yeah, so can I; you’re a cheat!” I hollered, busting up with laughter. “A card shark. Where else are you hiding cards?" I launched myself at Patch, my hands delving into his clothing, hunting for hidden cards and finding nothing but hard muscle. I pushed him down onto his back in my eagerness.
"Rigging it to let you win?" claimed Patch as I searched him. “What are you going to do about it?”
I squealed as Patch tickled me, his hands locating the most vulnerable spots. I fought back and we were soon writhing on the couch in desperate fits of the giggles until we had to stop to get our breath back. I looked down at Patch and saw the simple joy and decency in his beautiful green eyes, his features lightly flushed from the laughter and exertion. And when he leaned into me, I met him halfway.
Chapter 10
It was one of the most delicious kisses of my life, as if Patch infused everything he did with his own personality.
The taste of him was fresh and keen on my lips when we finally broke, and I looked down at him and blurted the five little words that every man wants to hear in this situation.
"I slept with your brother."
Patch met my gaze mildly, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Connor or Declan?"
"Connor.” I frowned as I searched his decidedly un-irritated face. “Is that all you've got to say?"
"Do you want me to be angry?"
"No, of course not."
He kissed me and I melted eagerly into him. "You don't want this?"
"Of course, I do."
"Then what's the problem?"
What was the problem?
"I still like him," I said, hesitantly. "I mean, I like you, too. Very much. So much so that just saying this is making me very angry with myself, but..."
"Sienna," he stroked my face and kissed me again, "we're Selkie, not humans. These things really don't bother us."
“What do you mean?” I asked slowly.
“I mean, if a woman wants more than one male, she can have that without guilt. There is too much ugly in the world to concern ourselves with such things." He traced a finger over my jawline, making me shiver. “Alright?" Patch asked.
"Yeah. Just realizing, I still haven't gotten you back for cheating at cards." I squirreled my hands down his sides to tickle him, pulling his shirt out of my way as he let out a laugh.
"Two can play at that game." He made to grab me but I rolled off him onto the floor, springing to my feet and dancing away, out of his reach.
"Can't catch me." One of my socks had come off in the struggle and I now threw it at him playfully.
Patch pulled off his shirt as he stood and tossed it back at me in reply. "Wanna bet?"
As we dashed around the room, we shed our clothes, hurling them at each other in this new game. I didn't even notice my growing nudity as pants, T-shirt, and bra followed my socks. My panties were a perfect throw, draping themselves elegantly over Patch's face, leaving me completely and comfortably naked. But if I did not notice my own nudity, I could hardly miss Patch's.
I had seen his body before but it looked even better than I remembered, like sculpted marble, every muscle perfectly delineated. It was a swimmer's physique, which I guess made sense, and I could have looked at it all day except that my eyes were drawn downwards. Though we’d barely touched, Patch was already impressive; the most vital part of his anatomy as much an object of statuesque perfection as the rest of him. As he chased me about the room, his cock bobbed tantalizingly and, soon enough, I was done being chased.
As we ran past the couch, I stopped and spun about to face him, allowing myself to be folded into Patch's strong arms. His heated member was sandwiched between us and I felt it grow and swell against my firm body. Our hands explored each other's bodies, mine tracing the lines of every muscle, his skimming across my skin, making me nerves crackle, while our mouths met in an endless kiss. Kissing Patch was wonderful and I thought I could do this all night.
But Patch had other things in mind. I squealed as he hefted me up and dumped me back on the couch, kneeling in front of me and looping my legs over his broad shoulders to drape down his back.
"Are you going to... Ooh..."
He was going to. Patch's tongue slicked through my slit, leaving a trail of wet fire behind it. With dexterous fingers he opened me to his mouth, popping my sensitive clit out and fluttering his adept tongue against it.
I writhed on the couch, gripping handfuls of his jet-black hair in my fists. "Oh, Patch, that's perfect. Please don't stop."
He clearly had no intention of stopping. I whined, drummed my heels against his back, and pumped my hips up at him as he plunged into me. I wanted his whole damn h
ead inside me if that was only an option, but I would settle for that wonderful tongue. I had not noticed in kissing him what a long tongue Patch had, or perhaps he just knew how to use it.
Whatever the reason, I had never felt anything like this. Like my whole body was screaming. Oral sex with Patch was like a roller coaster, he worked me up till I was teetering on the brink of fulfillment and then teasingly denied me, then up again so my body was trembling with need only to be denied once more. I twisted, bounced my hips, clawed at him, kicked him, cursed him, thanked him, worshipped him, begged him, while he continued on his game plan, taking me to the gates of heaven as many times as he could before finally opening them.
By the time he let me come, I was one big nerve, and as he buried his face in me one last time, I wrapped my legs about his head and shrieked his name, working myself off against him as his tongue lapped at me in urgent strokes.
I shook and cried out as shudders wracked me over and over, wringing me out.
As Patch pulled back, I lay limply, half-on, half-off the couch, struggling to get my breath back. I had never had a man make me feel like that with just his tongue. In my entire life I had experienced only a handful of orgasms that could match that for intensity. But far from exhausting me, it made me wonder what else this man could do. It made me hungry for more.
As Patch stood to stretch his aching back, I sat straight up to meet him, gulping his straining length into my mouth and making him gasp. I sucked hard at his delicious cock, bathing his heat in saliva, and then pulled back.
I spun over onto my front, lying along the couch, and twitched my bottom a few times. As an after-thought, I grabbed a cushion and popped it under my hips to elevate my backside for easy access.
"Come and get it, big boy." I've never called anyone 'big boy' in my life before, but he brought a playful side out in me I couldn’t deny.
Patch didn't need to be asked twice. Slicking his hand along his iron-hard member, spreading my saliva along his impressive length to lubricate it, he came up behind me and lodged the broad head of his cock against my wet core.
"Ohhh..." I sighed in delighted pleasure as he sank half his long cock easily into my drenched depths. "Oh, Patch, that's incredible."
"You're telling me," he managed through gritted teeth.
Arching his hips forward, he sheathed the rest of his shaft, until his hips rested against the firm mounds of my ass. We both moaned in pleasure.
Size-wise, Patch was comparable to his older brother, and there was something delicious in being simply filled with thick, swollen cock - a sensation I had only known with the Selkie brothers.
Patch lay down across my back and I craned back to meet his lips. It was funny how, even now, the simple act of kissing him seemed as erotic to me as anything else we had done.
I loved kissing Patch. As I did so, my hips began to move involuntarily, twisting in small circles about the central pivot that nailed me to the couch. Patch was not slow to join in, his hips starting to rise and fall in graceful, regular strokes, getting harder as my supple tunnel expanded to accept him. He pushed himself up on his hands and began to piston his organ, as hard as marble, firmly in and out of me, his hips cracking against my buttocks with each thrust.
"Oh, yes... Oh, Patch... Oh, please... Like that... Like that... Harder..."
I gripped the couch cushion beneath me and began to pump my hips back to meet his increasingly vigorous thrusts, matching my desire with his strength and stamina. The pleasure was like a tap that had been turned on, filling me up, slowly overwhelming me. It was pleasure that seemed to have an actual physical weight, and the point would come when I could carry it no longer.
As Patch continued to pound away at me, I felt the orgasm swelling within my belly. I reached back to claw his body, wanting to touch him, to run my fingers down his washboard abs and to scratch at his relentless hips that were giving me so much. He sensed my nearness and, without breaking the forceful rhythm of his hips, he leaned down to kiss me.
The taste of Patch on my lips once more sent me spiraling over the edge. Again, I called out his name as I came, hard. The climax hit like a freight train, crashing into me, stealing my very breath as my channel clenched and released, milking his heavy cock.
"Alright down there?" murmured Patch, his hips now gently stirring my insides with his still solid cock until I was ready for more.
I thought that was just a bit cocky. It was time to show him that wild, indescribable pleasure was a two-way street.
"Whoa..." Patch gasped as I pushed backwards, catching him off-balance and sending him onto his back, still with his strong organ wedged inside me. I planted myself firmly on top of him, my heels placed between his spread-eagled legs to give me a strong pivot, one hand on the back of the couch, the other on Patch's muscular torso. I was going to give as good as I had gotten.
"Oh..." Patch groaned as I ground my hips into him in tight, hot circles, working his straining cock mercilessly. "Sienna..."
Next, I began to bounce in short, sharp jabs, buffeting my hips hard against him then switching to an arcing stroke that tugged his furiously stiff member into new and uncomfortable angles. Patch clutched at my body, trying to retain his self-control as I took him as vigorously as he had taken me, giving him no respite, showing no mercy to his twitching organ, now desperate to spill its seed.
I looked around at Patch, lolled out behind me, his eyes tightly closed, working his jaw, mouthing wordless exhortations of pleasure and frustration as I took him to school on what a woman could do. His cock was my personal plaything and I was planning to play with it until it broke.
Of course, however much pleasure he was in - and he now seemed practically catatonic with suppressed ecstasy - I was enjoying myself just as much. Leaning forwards, I could work his shaft directly against my throbbing clit, and the feel of Patch inside me was as achingly wonderful now as it had been from the first moment he had pushed in.
As I ground myself against him again, feeling him lurch inside me and hearing the almost despairing groan of my name, it was becoming a test of who would lose their shit first. I was determined it would be him, Patch seemed dedicated to not coming, even if he no longer had the mental coherence to understand why - the whole of his being was centered on his aching cock and the painful tightness in his balls.
I was starting to feel lightheaded, knowing that I must come again soon or die, when, finally, I was rewarded.
"Oh, Sienna." I felt Patch lurch up beneath me, grabbing hold of my churning hips. He cried out and, as I felt his hot seed pulsing into me, I let myself go, crashing into another ferocious orgasm. I fell back along Patch and he grabbed my body, pumping my hips up and down on his still spasming cock as he emptied himself into me with a growl.
For a long while we lay like that, waiting for our breathing to slow, enjoying a feeling of post-coital satisfaction almost as pleasurable as the sex itself. At some point, we started kissing and I sucked on Patch's tongue as if there was nothing I wanted more in the world.
"That was..." Patch shook his head. "I don't have words for how amazing you are."
Maybe I was reading too much into it, but it seemed telling to me that he said 'how amazing you are' rather than 'how amazing that was'. I felt the same. Patch was an extraordinary lover, but it was not just sex - there was a connection between us that went beyond the pure physical act and had made this encounter even more mind-blowing.
We got up and readied ourselves for sleep, dragging aching and exhausted bodies to the bathroom.
And when we went back into the bedroom, we headed for the bed and climbed in together.
“We’re going to find her,” he murmured against my hair, knowing somehow instinctively that my thoughts had turned to Saorise.
“I know.”
I didn’t, but damn it, right now I needed to believe it. And as he slipped his strong arms around me, I slept soundly for the first time in days.
Chapter 11
Ever since I d
iscovered boys and men and associated good stuff, I have loved the simple pleasure of waking up next to someone.
All the other stuff is very cool, but there is something quiet and comforting about waking up with a man beside you, something that makes you feel safe and warm and loved. It goes without saying that the sensation gets all the better when it is with someone for whom you have genuine feelings. For all that I had not known him long, waking up next to Patch was perhaps the best awakening of this sort I had ever had.
I cuddled up beside him, drawn to the warmth of his body. He turned his head to kiss me.
"Good morning."
And it was. I had a good feeling about today.
We were going to find Saorise, I was sure of it.
We headed out, following a map on my phone across town.
"Where's this one?" asked Patch.
"In an old department store," I said, checking the notes I had made of the information we’d gotten from Stanley.
"Seems like an awful lot of your country is empty and disused."
"Well, in fairness, you are only seeing the bits of it that are suitable venues for an underground club to set up shop for a few months at a time," I pointed out. "That's no way to see the best of America."
"That's a very fair point. Which way?"
We plodded through the better areas and on into the industrial wasteland of boarded-up houses and metal-shuttered shops to what must once have been a thriving department store based on the size of its parking lot.
"Just keep walking past," said Patch, and I could hear the suppressed excitement in his voice as he spoke. "Like we've got no interest whatsoever."
"Did you see something?"
"On the loading dock."
At the rear entrance where, in more affluent times, trucks had driven to an underground warehouse to disgorge pallets of merchandise, I now noticed a man sitting. He could have just been any passerby looking for a spot to stop, a homeless man in search of somewhere to pass the night, or a drug dealer in need of quiet but central location. But look closer and you would see the man's alert stance, his habit of pacing to and fro across the entrance, and the walkie-talkie attached to his belt. Put all those things together and they screamed 'guard'.
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