Bound by Love

4. Tá ár n-anam a shuífear'

By the time they got on the boat night had fallen. Wren was amazed that with her new heightened senses she could see all of the details of the boat, even down to the fine lines of the woodgrain on the highly glossed surface. The color was a natural dark brown while the fixtures were a gleaming brass without even the smallest of dirt smudges. The name was painted in a dark royal blue with metallic gold and silver outlines. It was in some language that Wren didn't know.

Hearing her thoughts Ian brought his arms around her from behind. With hands on her hips, pressing her against his bulge and lips caressing her ear he pronounces the words in his perfect Gaelic pronunciation. "Cumha do ár n-anam"

The foreign words with his delicious accent caused a shiver to up Wren's spine. She moaned lightly and then asked with a husky whisper. "What does it mean?"

Gray, with eyes gleaming in the dark, takes hold of her hand and kisses each finger gently. His voice is quiet in the hushed air of the night. Only the gentle lapping of the waves competing for attention. "It means 'lament for our souls'', Dear Heart. We will need to go through the process of renaming it now."

Van frames her face with his large hands, looking into her eyes his attention solely on her. "Mmm hmm. What do you guys think of 'Tá ár n-anam a shuífear'?"

Gray replies instantly, "Perfect!"

Ian with his lips on the crook of Wren's neck and lips tasting the sensitive skin around his mark takes a moment to respond. When he can finally pull himself away from her addictive scent and taste he too agrees. "Yes. We should get it taken care of soon.""

Wren blinks her dazed eyes, bringing herself out of her arousal enough to once more satisfy her curiosity. "What language is that? And what does the new name mean?

"It's Irish, Angel." Van replies kissing her forehead with tender care. ""It means, 'Our soul has been found.'"

Wren's knees went weak as the romantic and beautiful sentiment is revealed. That along with the combined touch of all three of her mates has made her need climb to a fevered pitch once more. She can feel her panties grow moist and her body flush hot.

Her mates' eyes heat, their members swell and twitch and their desire surges. Gray swoops down and lifts her off her feet and into his arms. He swiftly bounds up the gangplank, his brothers close behind him. Van unties the boat from the dock and gets them started on their journey. He is anxious to join them in pleasuring Wren so as soon as they are far enough out to sea that no one should bother them he drops anchor and heads down below.

Wrens gasping breaths and light moans leads him to the closest bedroom of the three. It is smaller than the master but their need was so much that they didn't want to take the extra second necessary to go further down the hall.

The door is open giving him an unobstructed view of the exploits. Gray and Ian are both still clothed, their shirts are untucked, rumpled and unbuttoned but still on their torsos. Wren, on the other hand, has her shirt cast off on the floor of the passageway and her bra is hanging off the lamp attached to the wall on the other side of the room. Her skirt is drawn up around her waist while her panties are pushed to the side by Ian's thick fingers that are caressing her folds.

Gray has his mouth latched firmly onto one straining nipple while his hand brings the other to a peak. Ian is behind Wren, her back resting against his chest. Her head is thrown back against his shoulder while his lips nibble at his mark that decorates her neck and shoulder.

Wren has one hand latched in Gray's hair and the other holding onto Ian's wrist, the same wrist that belongs to the fingers that are probing at her wet and swollen pussy lips. Van can see the conflict in her eyes as she alternately tries to either push them away or hold them closer. Ian moves his head back just the slightest bit, "What is it sweetheart?"