Page 56 of The Wild Man

My cock twitches, but I push my need down. Mostly, when the need to take momor hits, I take her wherever we are, no matter what we’re doing, but I’m enjoying watching her hunt for our food. There’s no need for her to do this—I will always provide for her—but when she came to me and asked if I would teach her, I couldn’t deny her. And from the smile on her face, this makes her happy.

She told me how her people hunt for fish. It seems weird and a lot more.

A few minutes later, Ever spins around and holds up her spear, another fish with beady eyes stuck on the end. She angles it toward me, her eyes glowing proudly.

“Dinner for you, and it’s a big one.” She grins.

I grin back, snatching the fish off the end. “Now we clean.”

Her full pink lips curve downward and her little nose wrinkles. “I caught the fish. You get to clean them.”

We walk out of the water, and I grab the other fish. She follows me to a rock that’s flat on top. I plop both fish down while she sits on a smaller rock beside the bigger one. She eyes the fish, her nose wrinkling, when I begin cutting off the head.

“My dad tried his best to get me to clean the fish we would catch, but I could never stomach it,” she says, turning her face away.

“Did you fish much?” I ask, running the knife along the side of the fish to scrape away the scales.

“We were outdoors a lot. My dad took me and my brothers camping several times a year, and we either hunted or fished for our food.”

She sits with her arms behind her to prop herself up and her legs lay in front of her, crossed at her feet. The new position pushes out her tits. The tips—nipples are what she called them—are pointed and hard from the cool water. I’m tempted to lean over and suck one into my mouth.

I look back down at the fish and flip it over to scrape the other side. “Did you like camping?”

“I loved it.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Most of the time anyway. Until I got older and wanted to hang out with boys and my friends more.”

I jerk my eyes to her, my lips pressed into a line. “Boys?” I ask, my voice deepening.

Her eyes slide to me and she looks like she wants to laugh. “Yes, boys, Wild Man.”

“You were with boys?” The hand I have wrapped around the knife tightens. “Did you fuck them?”

Her chin moves upward, like she’s looking down her nose at me. “Yes, I did. With a few of them anyway. I had a life before you took me.”

“Did you give them your mouth?”

“Some of them, yes.”

My mood darkens. I want to take the knife I’m strangling and jam it down the throat of every boy she gave her mouth to. “How many?”

My face must give away the anger I’m feeling because my female sits up, brushing her hands against each other before placing them on her thighs.

“Wild Man,” she starts, but I cut her off.

“How many, momor,” I growl.

Her brows fall and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “Five.”

I drop the knife and put both hands on the rock, leaning toward her. She tilts her body back, as if I would ever let her get away from me. “You gave five boys my lips, but won’t let me have them?”

A fire starts in her eyes, which only makes my anger hotter.

“Yes. You don’t get them after everything you’ve done to me.”

I want to wrap my hands around her slender throat and squeeze until her eyes water and she begs me to let her go. To shake her until she gives in.

“You wanted what I did.”

Her brown eyes flash again and the muscles in her jaw move. “I may want it now, but I didn’t at first. I’ll never forget the pain you caused me.”