He hummed, his arm curving against my back. "Do you really want a son? I don't mind either way," he said. "If you do, we'll need to be careful until the rut."
I rested my palm over his heart, feeling the steady pound there. "I want to give you an heir."
"I don't care about the specifics of our bargain, Brigid. I won't dismiss you if we don't have a son," he said, so beautifully gentle with every word.
It was sweet and might even be true. I hated to tell him that it would bring me a dark, cruel joy to give Torion the heir that I'd failed to deliver to Malcolm. I knew what an ugly impulse it was.
"Ten years might take away another chance," I admitted, even though it stung to do so. "We should at least try. Do you mind?"
Torion laughed, kissing the crown of my head. "Do I mind fondling, kissing, touching, and pleasuring my omega in any manner of ways that might keep her from getting pregnant until the rut? No, little witch. I relish the prospect. When may I start?"
Torion had been delightfully creative tonight. Malcolm had never really wanted to enjoy anything but the most rudimentary of sexual activities with me, although he'd made me put my mouth on him to ready him. I'd never considered the gesture might be returned. Men were ready when their cocks were hard. If they weren't, touching or mouthing made them ready. No one had ever suggested a woman might want to be prepared too.
Wet, eager, needful.
"In the morning," I said, resisting the impulse to begin now.
Chapter Ten
TORION
I'd only meant for it to be a kiss.
In spite of my promise to Brigid that I'd be needing her every night and every morning, I'd spent the past three days visiting the many crofters, arranging the repairs of roofs and fences, new irrigation, and the exchange of animals. I'd returned to the keep each night weary, hungry, filthy, and found my omega waiting with a hot bath and a cold meal, my eyes barely keeping open as she reported her own progress around the keep. And then, witch that she was, she'd offered to massage my shoulders and oil my wings, working her sorcery to lull me asleep with those perfectly magical hands.
She wasn't sleeping in my bed. I thought I'd made it clear it was where I wanted her, but I'd also made it clear it was her choice. And she was choosing to return to her own modest room each night. Out of my reach in the morning. Out of my sight throughout the day.
So when she'd appeared in the stables with three hand pies and a jug of ale for my midday meal, I had a mind to remind her what she was missing by not letting me wake her.
Just a kiss. Agoodkiss, but only enough to tease her.
I groaned into her mouth, arms wrapped tight around her back, trying to pull her into me as she rocked over my lap, grinding herself down over my covered cock. She panted into my mouth, her breath sweet and fresh, herbs and honey. I licked against her tongue for more of the flavor, bucking my own hips up. I was too close. She felt too good, her skirts hiked up as she straddled me, the heat of her thighs bleeding through the wool of my kilt.
"The-the others?" Brigid gasped, pulling from the kiss, her head tossed back to reveal her throat to my greedy nibbling.
If the other men who'd been working in the stables had any sense of what was good for them, they'd stay out of the stables until they saw Brigid and me emerge. They'd left on the signal of my slight head jerk. I thought Brigid would appreciate the privacy, even if it was just a kiss.
It was never going to be just a kiss.
No, now that I'd had a taste of my omega, I would likely never be able to settle for something so chaste and simple. She was too rich, too sweet, too heady, like mead made from heather honey.
"They won't interrupt us," I rasped, and then licked a line up the side of her throat to tease at the lobe of her ear.
The sound of her whine made my balls grow heavy and ready.
"Bellfry's ballocks, witch, you've got me sprung tight," I hissed.
Brigid moaned and covered my mouth with hers before I could suggest that she let me lick her, touch her. Her hands were in my hair, holding me close, her hips working with such a sincere urgency over mine it made me wild. I wanted to lift her from my lap, toss her down into the hay, and mount her roughly, fill her lithe, hungry body with my length and send us both over the edge. And yet…having her use me this way, squirming and whimpering and kissing until we lost our breath? There was nothing like it.
It went right to my head. And then right to my cock.
"Brigid, love, let me—" I tried, too aware of my own release near at hand, fighting it with every little nudge of her hips, the way the warmth and dampness of her arousal was soaking through fabric to kiss against my stiff length.
It was a mistake to pull away from the kiss. It gave my little witch an opportunity to work her magic.
I grunted as her fingers tightened in my hair. Her eyes were dark and her lips swollen, marked red from the stubble I hadn't shaved this morning.
"I can feel your cock twitching, Torion," Brigid said, her voice low and ragged. "Are you going to come for me?"
