Irene didn’t just hand the leaf skirt—she helped tie it, her hands lingering on my waist, her thumbs tracing the ridges of my hips as if she were morizing every inch of my skin.
"Here," she murmured, her voice low and rough, her breath warm against my stomach. "Let’s go, Welheim." Her fingers tightened slightly on the knot of the skirt, pulling just a little closer, her body pressing against mine for a fleeting second.
"And don’t be nervous." Her eyes flicked up to mine, dark and heavy with sothing that wasn’t just concern. "It is my duty... to help you with your first night with Rúna."
My stomach twisted at her words. Wait—what does she an? How is she going to help with Rúna?
Before I could ask, Tali let out a low, knowing chuckle, her smirk deepening as she watched Irene’s hands adjust the leaves around my hips.
"Welheim," she said, her voice dripping with amusent, "maybe you don’t know... but in our clan, the day a man has a woman who follows him, it’s the man’s mother—or in your case, your aunt—who guides him properly." Her eyes glead with mischief, her gaze flicking down to the obvious bulge beneath my skirt. "So he won’t waste his seed in a hurry... or hurt the girl."
My cock jerked violently, the tip already leaking again at the thought. Irene’s fingers stilled against my waist, her breath hitching just slightly before she forced her voice to stay steady.
"Welheim, don’t be sad," she said, her tone soft but thick with sothing darker, sothing hungrier. "I, your aunt, will guide you well." Her thumb pressed against the fabric of the skirt, right where the head of my cock strained against it, and I bit back a groan.
Her words sent a jolt of white-hot lust straight to my cock, the cock thickening painfully, pressing against the flimsy leaves.
I could already imagine it—Irene’s hands on , her voice in my ear, guiding as I buried myself inside Rúna for the first ti. Would she touch ? Would she show how to please her? Would she—?
I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears, my cock aching with the need for release. "Aunt—" I started, my voice rough.
"Shh." Irene pressed a finger to my lips, her eyes dark with promise. "Let’s go, Welheim. Rúna and Astrid must be waiting for us." Her hand slid down, her fingers brushing against the head of my cock one last ti before she pulled away. "And don’t worry... I’ll make sure your first ti is perfect."
As we walked through the village, the night air cool against my heated skin, Irene’s words echoed in my mind, each one sending another jolt of lust straight to my cock.
The realization settled over like a fever—hot, heavy, and intoxicating. There was no ritual. No marriage. No vows exchanged under the watchful eyes of the clan. Just selection—raw, primal, and unapologetic.
A woman to breed. A family to build. A body to claim as my own. And Irene—my aunt—would be there the whole ti, her hands on my skin, her voice a dark whisper in my ear, her guidance ensuring I didn’t falter. Ensuring I didn’t fail.
The thought sent a fresh surge of blood rushing to my cock, the tip already slick with anticipation, the cock throbbing painfully beneath the leaf skirt. I could feel the dampness of my own arousal, the way my body betrayed just how badly I wanted this—how badly I wanted her.
Irene’s voice cut through my thoughts, soft but laced with sothing raw. "Welheim... don’t forget about Aunt when you have your woman." Her fingers brushed against mine, her touch fleeting but charged. "I didn’t expect this day would co so soon."
I turned to her, my voice rough with need. "Aunt... I won’t forget you."
Her hand found mine again, her fingers intertwining with mine for just a second before pulling away. The loss of her touch sent a jolt through , my cock twitching in response. "Don’t worry," she murmured, her voice thick with sothing unspoken. "I’ll take care of you... and Rúna."
Her words only stoked the fire burning inside . I wasn’t just excited. I was starving—for Rúna, for Irene, for the promise of what was to co.
As we approached Rúna and Astrid’s hut, my heart hamred against my ribs, my cock throbbing with every step. Irene’s words had set my mind ablaze, each syllable a promise of what was to co.
I could already see it—Rúna beneath , her body arching as I pushed inside her, her breath hitching as I filled her completely. And Irene would be there, her hands on my skin, her voice guiding , her presence ensuring I claid Rúna the way a man should.
I realized Rúna’s hut was the sa place where we’d all gathered for dinner earlier—the heart of the clan’s evening warmth. The fire, still burning strong, sat directly between her hut and the one facing it, its flas licking the air as they roasted the last remnants of at.
The glow was intense, casting a golden halo over the clearing, and I noticed fresh logs had just been added to the embers, ensuring the fire would last deep into the night.
"Don’t be nervous, Welheim," Irene murmured, her voice low and husky as we stopped just outside the hut. Her fingers brushed against my arm, her touch sending a shiver down my spine. "I’ll be with you every step of the way." Her breath was warm against my ear, her words a dark caress.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight with desire, my cock aching with the need for release. "I trust you, Aunt," I managed, my voice rough with need.
Irene’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes dark with promise. "Good boy," she whispered, her hand brushing against mine one last ti, her fingers lingering just long enough to send another jolt of lust through . Then, with a final, knowing look, she pushed the flap of the hut aside, the dim light from inside spilling out to greet us.
"Now," she murmured, her voice a dark purr, "let’s go make Rúna yours."
The flap of the hut rustled as Irene stepped inside, her hips swaying just enough to draw my eyes to the curve of her ass beneath the thin leaf wrap. My cock, already half-hard from the anticipation, twitched as I followed her in.
"Sister Astrid..." Irene called, her voice warm but carrying that edge of command she used when she wanted sothing.
And then she stepped into view.
Astrid.
Fuck.
Her wrap was tied loosely, the fabric clinging to her heavy tits, the deep cleavage practically begging for my hands, my mouth. The firelight made her skin glow, highlighting the way her hips still had that swing, that weight of a woman who knew what she was doing. She wasn’t young like Rúna, but she was experienced. And that made her dangerous.
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