Niamh was languid with satisfaction and bliss.
So it took her a moment to realize he’d frozen above her.
“What?” she whispered, unnerved by his sudden weirdness.
Then he pressed his nose to her throat. And sniffed.
“Kiyo.”
He snuffled like an animal, dragging his nose down her chest, along her shoulders.
Some kind of ancient intuition filled her seconds before his head snapped up and he stared at her in abject shock.
“Kiyo?”
“You smell like me,” he bit out seconds before he slipped from her body, causing her to wince from the slight smarting pain of it.
He pushed away to sit on his knees. Dragging a hand through his loose hair, he panted. “And not just ‘we had sex’ so my scent is on you … you smell like me and I smell like you … like our scents are in each other.” His eyes flew to hers. “Our scents are one.”
Niamh trembled, not knowing where his reaction was heading.
Then dark territorialism entered his gleaming eyes. “You’re my mate. My true mate.”
Niamh nodded, still not sure what this meant for him. “I’ve suspected it for a few days.”
Abruptly he reached for her, and Niamh let out a squeal as he pulled her by the legs toward him, only to fall over her again. “Are you sore?” he growled against her lips.
“A little,” she gasped.
“Too sore?”
She shook her head.
Without preamble, he thrust into her, baring his teeth as renewed sensation filled her. Her head flew back on the pleasure pain that sparked all the way down to her toes.
Apparently, Kiyo was good with this latest revelation.
Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as his fingers did delicious things to her.
By the time the night was over, he’d claimed her so many times, Niamh fell into a deliriously happy, exhausted sleep curled in his arms. And the last thing she heard as he cuddled her to him was Kiyo murmuring in wonder, “My mate. My pack.”30“Okay, we have to leave this hotel room today before the fight tomorrow.” Niamh strolled into the sitting room, the scent of shampoo fresh in her long hair.
Kiyo stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth to stop himself from reaching for her.
This constant need for her was ridiculous.
But he’d been assured it would ease.
Fionn had called a week ago to ask after Kiyo’s condition. Apparently, Niamh had contacted him and Bran for help. Kiyo spoke to him while Niamh showered, his mind half on the call, half on the thought of his mate in the shower.
His mate.
True mate.
Fionn had suspected as much. Somehow. The know-it-all bastard. Kiyo saw no point in not confirming. While it was safer to be far away from other fae-borne, he, Fionn, and Conall were bound by the fact that they were true mates to three fae-borne women. War was a distinct possibility in the future, and by default, all of them made a strange team of sorts.
“What was it you called me?” Fionn had mused. “Oh, that was it. Mate-whipped.”
Kiyo glowered but stayed silent, chafing at the turnabout.
Fionn chuckled darkly. “I’m surprised you haven’t run for the hills by now.”
“No, you’re not,” Kiyo replied.
Fionn surely understood the bond. There was no running from it. He didn’t want to. The moment Kiyo had scented the change in his and Niamh’s alchemy that signified their bond, a savage desire overpowered him to claim her with the knowledge of their bond in his soul.
True-mate sex.
There was nothing like it.
If humans knew about it, they’d never get anything else done.
Only humans, Kiyo scoffed to himself. Human, werewolf, vamp, witch, or fae … that mating bond was the strongest aphrodisiac in the world.
“No, I’m not. There’s no fighting the bond. You don’t want to in the end,” Fionn replied.
Kiyo eyed the bathroom door, imagining ripping it off its hinges to get to Niamh. “Does it … get easier?”
He heard the smile in the Irishman’s voice. “In some ways. If you’re talking physically, the first few weeks are the worst. You’ll want to do nothing but fuck.” He chuckled. “But it eases. You start using your big brain instead of the wee one. For the most part. Emotionally … that’s a different game, Kiyo. She’s all that’s going to matter to you from now on.”
It was the most heartfelt conversation the two males had ever had, and Kiyo wanted to be done with it. He’d hit his quota on talking about his feelings and the only one he cared enough to share them with was Niamh.
A week had passed and the connection between them was so acute, they could sense each other’s emotions. Sex was phenomenal. Knowing exactly what the other wanted was incredible.
And the two of them were acting like sex-craved addicts.
However, apparently, Niamh thought it was time they tried to shake past this part of the bond. Kiyo tried not to pout over his breakfast. He could have gone another few days in bed. Maybe even a week. Or two.