Faolan ripped off his clothes; kilt and sword hit the floor. Then he stood there. He stared, torn with indecision. His need pulsed through his veins...take herpounded with every beat of his heart. By almighty Brid, he wanted this woman. Surely, Maxwell had to be right. Surely, this one claiming would cure him of ever wanting her again.
Faolan slid into the bed and curled her into his arms. He lost himself in the tawny depths of her gaze as he traced his fingers along the velvet of her jaw. He remembered the betrothal kiss. She had intoxicated him. Those lips, the honey flavor of her mouth. Lore, he needed more. Faolan lowered his head and had another taste.God’s beard.She tasted even better than she had earlier.
He shuddered a breath, edged back the covers, and feasted his eyes on the rest of her delightful body. Her smallish breasts beckoned, rounded and ripe, hungry nipples puckered in expectation of his touch. His eyes trailed lower to the inviting curls between her legs, hiding the pleasures waiting to be enjoyed.
He trailed his fingertips along her collarbone, his gaze following the path of his touch. Skin rippling, she shivered with gooseflesh as he cupped her breast in his palm.
She waited motionless beneath his caress, her breath fanning between slightly parted lips. Faolan forced himself to go ever so slowly. He didn’t want to frighten her or cause her any undue pain. He’d only taken a virgin once before and hadn’t handled it well.
She gifted him with a faint moan as he fondled her breast and lowered his mouth to suckle her awaiting nipple. He groaned as she responded with eagerness, arching her back as she tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled his head harder against her breast.
God.He hoped Maxwell was right about bedding her just this once. He hoped this one time would be enough. If not, he was going to kill the bastard for sending him straight to this delicious hell.
* * *
Faolan awoke before she did.He forgot where he was until he felt the weight of her head on his shoulder. She’d stretched a long silken leg across his body and curled it around his waist. Her satin belly pressed against his side, the curls of her charms tickling against his flank. He hardened in an instant as he remembered the delicious wet warmth inside.
He raised his free hand and covered his eyes as he blew out a dismal sigh. Maxwell was a damn fool and Faolan an even greater idiot for taking his advice. One bedding would not cure him of this woman; in fact, a thousand beddings would never be enough.
Last night, when he’d pushed through her maidenhead, his primeval emotions had risen from within the depths of his soul and resounded with a deafening roar.This is my mate. This woman ismine. No other man will ever have her but me.
His erection demanded his attention, roaring to uncomfortable throbbing readiness immediately. He was ready to roll her over again and start his claiming anew. The only reason they’d stopped last night or rather this morning was because they’d both collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
She had cried out his name, her face filled with elation as he’d filled her body with his seed. She’d clutched him close as he’d shuddered within her, his groans echoing with her cries. Her legs had wrapped around his body, completing her embrace. Her satisfied spasms had pulled him deeper, drowning him in mindless ecstasy.
She had welcomed him inside her again and again. Not once had she shied from his touch. He could only imagine what lovers they could become, as his virginal bride grew bolder with delightful experience.
Faolan gritted his teeth and stared up at the ceiling. He had to stop this before it went any further. He’d consummated the union. She was safe as his wife. Now, he had to make sure he never touched her again.
He eased his body out from under her warm, trusting weight. Faolan forced himself not to look upon her face. He scooped his kilt and sword from where they’d dropped on the floor and crept his way out of the room.
He wound his kilt around his hips and made his way down the hall. Since he couldn’t remain in his own chambers adjoining with Ciara’s, he would take up residence in what used to be his brother’s rooms.
Just as Faolan was about to make his escape, Maxwell greeted him in the hallway. He stuck his head out of his room and shot Faolan a knowing wink. “Well? How did it go? It’s nearly dawn and ye’re just now leaving her bed? Did it work? Is she out of your blood?”
Without a word, Faolan crashed his fist into Maxwell’s jaw, stepped over his friend’s unconscious body, and continued his way down the hall.
ChapterFive
Ciara kicked the dried pine needles from her path and stomped her way deeper into the woods. She snatched at the branches blocking her way, growling out loud as she replayed the morning in her head.
“Where are ye going?” Alec squawked from high above the tree line.
“I’m going to the goddesses’ spring. Faolan is being an ass.”
“Well, he is a mortal,” Alec observed, soaring in and out of the pines.
“I have never met such a hard-headed mortal in all the centuries I have been dealing with the infernal creatures. The man is impossible. I have to speak with Brid and Cerridwen.” After fighting her way through the tangled brush, she arrived at her destination in the center of the wooded copse.
Immense shelves of limestone surrounded dark, peaceful waters. The depth of the water was impossible to discern by looking at the surface. It rippled from the constant trickle of the spring where the sparkling liquid emerged from the depths of the earth through a crack in the largest stone at one end of the pool. Long-forgotten Picts had painstakingly shaped the stone and carved into it the serene face of a beautiful woman. This well was dedicated to the Goddess Brid. She gifted the water with her blessings.
“He left!” Ciara shouted down into the waters. She stomped one foot on the ledge as she waited for her mothers’ faces to appear on the dark, shimmering surface. “I even faked the membrane of a maidenhead so the man would believe I was a virgin. I held back my passions so as not to frighten him with the pleasures I could give him. The man left after just one night in my bed. How am I supposed to get pregnant by the stubborn fool if he’s not even there for me to seduce?”
The vision of Cerridwen’s and Brid’s smiling faces appeared on the shimmering surface of the pool. “Patience, Ciara. He will return soon. Ye know ’tis not unheard of for a laird to travel across his lands and see to the well-being of his people.”
Her doeskin clad foot tapped in the leaves as Ciara peered down at the surface of the water. “A laird does not leave his newly wedded wife in the late fall of the year to go traipsing over his lands. If any of his people have any problems, they come to the keep during this time of year. I even overheard the chambermaids wondering why he had gone to the north. Early summer is usually when Faolan does his traveling. Trust me, I know for a fact he wasn’t faking his enjoyment of our first joining. Even his aura shimmered with pleasure! He fairly lit up the room.”
Her eyes twinkling, Brid set the surface of the pool to rippling as though it were chuckling in response. “Ciara, did ye think ye would land right in the middle of the troubled man’s life, bear him a child, and then be merrily on your way? Sometimes ye have to struggle a bit to achieve what ye want, even when ye are an immortal.”
