Peering downward, Laoghaire stared at his woefully engorged organ. Several moments passed in charged silence before she began to lower herself onto it. Slowly, inch by inch, she sank, Galen mesmerized by the evocative sight of his blood-darkened cock disappearing into her narrow aperture. Once he reached full penetration, they both went very still.
A shuddered breath passed through Galen’s lips, and though tempted to arch his hips he refrained from doing so. He’d given Laoghaire the reins and what followed next would be at her command.
Her movements tentative, Laoghaire braced her hands on his chest and lifted herself upward, her inner muscles clinging to him as she did so. Then, shoving her hips back down, her bottom slapped against his thighs. Galen groaned from the pleasure of it, while lady wife proceeded to ride him hard, her initial hesitation quickly giving way to a wanton’s passion.
Just then, a thunderclap boomed in the near distance, the ground beneath Galen quaking in its wake. As though driven by the fury of the storm, Laoghaire moved at an even faster pace. With her red hair flowing down her back and her breasts proudly thrust outward, she was a Celtic goddess come to life.
Finagling a hand between their two bodies, Galen sought out the hidden nubbin buried in the damp folds of her cleft. Finding it, he began to stroke the sensitive bud with his thumb.
Suddenly arching her neck, Laoghaire cried out his name as she reached her climax.
No sooner did he feel her muscles ripple around him than his seed shot into her with a forceful burst, the pleasure so intense that he groaned aloud in ecstasy.
Although the storm continued to rage outside the grotto, in that attenuated moment Galen’s world suddenly contracted, encapsulating only the two of them.
Nothing else matters save for her,he acknowledged, having experienced something both heady and achingly ephemeral during his orgasm. Something he’d never felt with another woman. And while he could not put a name to it, what he felt had been singularly unique.
With a mewling whimper, Laoghaire fell forward. They then clung to one another, passion transmuted into an overwhelming desire to simply hold each other in a lovers’ embrace.
Wrapped in Galen’s arms, her head pillowed against his chest, Laoghaire slowly awakened. As she did so, she felt the repetitive thump of his heart beating beneath her cheek.
Thoroughly content, she raised a hand and sifted her fingers through Galen’s thick locks of raven black hair, careful not to disturb his slumber. She had no idea as to the time of day. While the rain had ceased, the sun was blotted by a gloomy mist. Moreover, there was a distinct chill in the air, the fire little more than glowing embers.
Turning her head slightly, she peered at Galen, her gaze lingering on the pulse throbbing at the base of his strong throat. Although fast asleep, he had a protective arm slung around her midsection and a leg wedged between her thighs. Curious, Laoghaire reached down and felt the wet stickiness that had seeped from her body while she slept.
I am now a woman, she marveled, the residue, along with the tenderness between her legs, evidence that she had changed in a profound way. Suddenly, despite the gloom that lurked outside the grotto, it was as if the sun had broken free from the storm clouds and now shed its radiant light upon her. And yet it was a joy seeded with a fierce yearning, for though she and Galen had been conjoined as one body—an act so intimate it defied words—she would have them be more to one another.
Have my feelings for him begun to thaw?Laoghaire wondered, startled by the notion, even as she was made hopeful by it.
Just then, Galen began to mumble in his sleep, Laoghaire able to make out the words, “I pray thee, lady.”
She smiled, glad-hearted that even in slumber they were bound to one another. Husband and wife . . . Galen and Laoghaire.
Still muttering, Galen snuggled even closer to her. “I am greatly tempted, Melisande,” he murmured.
Upon hearing that, Laoghaire’s breath caught in her throat. As though she’d just been stabbed with a dagger to the heart, her emotions underwent a sudden and dramatic shift. In that instant she was seized with an agony so starkly intense, it threatened to consume her, body and soul.
Devastated, she jerked herself free from Galen’s sleeping embrace and sat upright. To stop herself from sobbing aloud, she slapped a hand to her mouth. But when she peered down at Galen—still in sleep’s thrall, oblivious to his transgression—her heartache straightaway congealed into a blind fury.
The whoreson!
Without a care to giving offense or injury, Laoghaire pounded on Galen’s naked chest as hard as she could. “Wake up, knave!”
Galen’s eyes immediately snapped open. Just as quickly, the arm that had been wrapped around her waist flung outward toward his sword.
“Ye would dare to threaten me with a blade, ye black-hearted cur!”
Belatedly realizing that it was his wife and not an enemy who’d launched the attack, Galen removed his hand from the sword hilt. “Suffering hell, Laoghaire! Is this any way to rouse your lord husband?”
Snatching hold of her discarded chemise, Laoghaire scrambled to her feet. “Count yer blessings that I didn’t use that sword to kill ye in yer sleep.” Acutely aware that she stood before him naked as a newborn, she made haste to clothe herself.
Clearly bewildered, Galen pushed himself into a seated position. “And why would you contemplate such a thing? Did I not give you great pleasure?”
“Aye, it was great, indeed,” she replied in a deceptively sweet tone of voice. Then, the dulcet notes hardening, she glared at him and hissed, “But ye gave Melisande that very same pleasure, did ye not?”
With a muttered oath, Galen lunged to his feet. Despite his naked state, he stood with his feet planted wide and his hands balled on his hips. “Why do you mention Melisande’s name?” Galen’s eyes, pale as a winter’s moon, held her captive with an intense stare, one that demanded a response.
“’Twas not I who first made mention of the lady Melisande. ’Twas you in your sleep,” she warbled unsteadily, having yet to recover from his heart-wrenching betrayal. “From what I could gather, ye find her a great temptation.”
