“Now,” she rasped.
“Slow down,maemos. We have all night.” He nibbled a trail along her throat while sliding his hands down her back and squeezing her buttocks. “I have wanted this so long,” he added in a throaty whisper.
“So have I,” she confessed after another breathy moan. The heat of the water. His prodding erection against her aching sex. He needed to be inside hernow. She reached down between them, held him steady, and deftly took what she wanted.
“Yes—” The word escaped her in a hiss. It had been so long. She worked her hips, riding slowly, struggling to accommodate his size. “Oh yes,” she repeated, settling into a tantalizing rhythm.
He clamped his hands around her waist and tried to make her sit still. “Maemos ma dao! Uthe dina cuma!”
Apparently, sex with him was so phenomenal, she had lost the ability to understand speech. “What did you just say?” she gasped, flexing her thighs and gyrating faster.
After a long, low, guttural groan, he framed her face in his hands and glared at her. “It is Erastaedian! I said,Slow down, my love, before I come!”
She pulled his hands down to her breasts and bucked harder. “So sorry. There is no way I can slow this.” She leaned forward and kissed him without slowing her pace.
Water sloshed and overflowed the confines of the tub. The wet friction of their wet skin increased her pleasure.
He seemed to revel in her moans, growling along with her. He caught one of her nipples between his teeth and suckled. Hard and long. Her groans shifted to loud keens of pleasure that appeared to drive him over the edge. He threw back his head and tensed, roaring as she gyrated harder and faster.
And then explosions of ecstasy took control. She screamed, digging her nails into his shoulders as she spasmed over and over. He joined her, thrusting upward and holding fast while bellowing more shouts of whatever language that was he used before. She didn’t carethat she didn’t understand the words as she collapsed in his embrace. It didn’t matter. She understood the intent. And enjoyed it immensely.
A frantic scratching,somewhere in the distance, made it through the lovely, warm depths of her slumber. The faintest hint of a muffled tap joined it. As if sharp little claws scrabbled against a hard surface. Hannah lifted her head, forced one eye open, and peered around the dimly lit kitchen. Where was that noise coming from? Sounded like a herd of mice on the move. The digging stopped. Good. She turned her attention back to Taggart’s magnificent body stretched out on the blanket beside her. They were alone on their pallet beside the spa.
The sight of him made her smile. She dropped back down with an almost purring sigh, nestling deeper into the haven of his arms. A deep inhale pulled in his scent, marking the memory with complete permanence. He smelled heavenly. Pure, lusty male and the sex they had enjoyed all night. She traced her fingers down the granite like ridges of his abdominals, then smoothed her hand back up to his chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this content, and it wasn’t merely the sex. He truly seemed to need her much more than anyone else ever had.
She scolded herself. No. She should not compare him to anyone. Not taint the unimaginable pleasure she had just enjoyed with painful memories of the past. As she nestled her head more comfortably in the dip of his shoulder, she traced the taut planes of his chest. His skin was so smooth. She wondered if the Draecna blood kept him from having any chest hair? Her husband had been like a Sasquatch. Crap on a cracker! There she went again. She squinted her eyes tightly shut and pressed her forehead against his. No more comparisons! Well, maybe one more. Her heart swelled as she snuggled closer. Last night with Taggart had made her feel more cared for than anyone else ever had.
A sharp, cracking snap echoed from the depths of the cavernsbeneath the kitchen, followed by louder scratching. There was no way that was mice. But if not mice or even huge rats; what kind of animal roamed the depths of Taroc Na Mor? Fully awake now, she sat up and frowned at the door leading to the tunnels. The sound seemed to come from the nursery. She hoped the eggs were all right. What if Sloan was trying to steal another one?
She took hold of Taggart’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze, then a gentle shake. “Hey! Wake up! Something is going on in the nursery. We should go check.”
No response. He merely reached for her, mumbled something incoherent, and pulled her closer. She stifled a muffled laugh. Poor man. Completely exhausted. As he should be. She tried to ignore the flash of heat flooding her belly at the mere thought of all they had done the evening before.
The thump and scratch from the caverns repeated. If it was an animal, it didn’t sound very large. Surely, she could handle this by herself and let him rest. She pressed a light kiss to the center of his chest and quietly rose from their pallet. She would have a look, then get him to join her upstairs where they could test out the lovely pillowed nest of her Draecna-sized bed.
She eased around him and gathered up her clothes. After she slipped them on, she tucked the blanket over him and gave him another soft kiss before slipping through the door leading down to the tunnels.
15
“There will be no eating at this table until I have thoroughly disinfected it.” Thaetus stood with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a bucket in one hand and a scrub brush in the other.
“I can run a flame across it once or twice. That should kill anything crawling about!” Gearlach clicked his front claws and sucked in a great lungful of air.
Taggart launched himself up from the pallet on the floor and whipped the blanket around his waist. He rubbed his eyes, blinking away the sleepy-eyed bleariness. “Daren’t ye do it! Ye will set fire to the entire keep. Ye know ye have no control over yer blaze.” He glared at Thaetus and Gearlach, seriously contemplating throwing them both out of the kitchen. “What in Hades are the two of ye up to?” Damn them both. No decency at all waking a man from a good sleep.
With a disappointed release of his precious wind, Gearlach tipped his head toward Thaetus. “He won’t feed us our breakfast in the fancy dining room ’cause he says we be too messy, and he says we canna eat off this table until he cleans it because ye probably had Hannah spread all over it.”
Taggart eyed the table, then cocked a brow at Thaetus and gavehim a knowing look. The Scot made a fair point. But that was none of their damn business. “By the way, there is no more whipped cream for this morning’s strawberries.”
“What happened to the whipped cream?” Thaetus plopped the bucket on the table, then soused the brush inside it while turning a dark scowl on Taggart.
“Never ye mind.” Taggart smiled as he scooped his clothes up from the floor. He hadn’t been this content in an age or longer. With a nod toward the door, he turned back to Thaetus and tossed the blanket over the bench. “Did ye see when Hannah went up to her room? Do ye ken if she’s still abed?” Memories of their creativity with the whipped cream had given him quite the rising.
Thaetus ceased his scrubbing but kept his glare locked on the table. “I havena seen the Guardian since last night. I thought perhaps she had gone for a morning walk in the gardens and left ye to sleep off the effects of yer evening.” His face went pale, and he looked up with alarm.
“Gearlach?” Taggart yanked on his shirt as a sense of dread squeezed the very air from his lungs.
With a shrug of his wings, Gearlach confirmed Taggart’s fears. “She’s nay in the gardens. I’ve already been there and called out for her. When I came in here and saw ye curled up like a wee hatchling, I figured she was still somewhere in here.”
