“Why did you come, Iseult?” His eyes, dark as the forest leaves of summer, stared into hers. He didn’t welcome her or behave as if he wanted to see her.
An aching emptiness seemed to swallow her. She didn’t trust her voice to speak. When he stepped into the shadows of the forest, her throat closed up. Then he turned and held out his hand, seeming to guess what she could not say.
“Does he know?”
She shook her head, lowering her chin. “Not yet. I plan to tell him after you’ve gone.” She tethered the mare to a nearby tree. “I needed to see you one last time.”
His palm stroked the side of her cheek. She closed her eyes, drinking in his touch. Though his hands were rough, he aroused her with the simple touch of her face.
The last of the dying sunlight spilled through the trees, casting a golden glow behind him. His black hair was bound away from his face, his green eyes gazing at her with an unfathomable expression.
He drew her to him, his warm body sheltering hers. “Let Davin take care of you,” he urged softly. “I need to know that you’ll be safe.”
“I’d rather have you take care of me.” His heartbeat thundered beneath her cheek, and Iseult closed her eyes, drawing comfort from him. When there was a long silence, she lifted her head. “But I can’t have that, can I?”
He shook his head. She’d expected him to refuse her, but it still bruised her feelings. Though it tore at her to say it, she had to know the truth. “Is there nothing between us, Kieran?”
He stared at her with heated intensity, as though he wanted to touch her, but would not. “What is between us is forbidden.”
“I know it,” she murmured. “But I needed to be with you. One last time.” Iseult pressed her hands to his face. He had drawn a blade over his face, shaving off the roughened stubble. Most of the tribesmen wore long curling beards, in contrast. She found that she liked seeing the angles of his face, the strong jaw and firm mouth.
She stood on tiptoes and raised her lips to his. Smooth and warm, he responded to her. His hands smoothed a path down her spine. Her breasts tightened, and she opened her mouth slightly.
He tantalized her with the kiss, tempting her into madness. When his tongue slid inside, she grasped his shoulders for balance. Warm male hands slid down to her hips, dragging her so close she could feel his arousal. He broke free of her mouth, finding the soft places upon her neck until she shivered.
“You’re the only man who’s ever made me feel this way,” she whispered, bringing her hands beneath his tunic. It was true. Even the night she’d shared with Murtagh had been awkward, nothing like the intense needs Kieran kindled inside her.
Careful to avoid his healing wound, she stroked his pectoral muscles. She explored his skin, trying to memorize every ridge, every part of him.
“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you.” His hand moved down her thigh, grasping at the fabric of her gown until he touched her leg. She gasped at the sensation of his hand moving up her bare skin. “You’ve invaded my dreams.”
She couldn’t stop trembling, especially when he paused at the juncture between her thighs. Knowing that his hand was right there, poised to touch her, set her body afire. “What—“ Saint Brigid, she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought with the sensations pouring through her. He lowered her gown to her waist, baring her breasts before him.
“What do you dream of?” she managed shakily. She felt exposed, completely defenseless. Cool air brushed over her nipples.
With that, he slid a finger inside her. Iseult melted against him, her womanhood wet with wanting him. His mouth bent down to drop a soft kiss upon her nipple.
“I think you know what I dream of.” His expression was feral. His thumb found the small center of her womanhood, and a dark pleasure broke over her as he stroked it. She tried to grasp his head, to kiss him again. She needed him to feel the same way she did.
“I’m aching for you,” she breathed. His answer was to lay her body upon the mossy forest ground, covering her breast with his mouth. He suckled hard until a flood of burning need came crashing through. Iseult’s hands dragged through his hair, and she arched her back when he slid another finger inside her, caressing her folds.
When he would not stop the intimate torment, she touched her hand to the hard ridge inside his trews. A groan came from his throat, and she caressed the length of him. Pleasure for pleasure, she stroked him until he began moving his fingers in a rhythm inside her.
“Please, Kieran. I can’t bear it.” More than anything she wanted him to join with her, to feel his body as a part of her own.
He raised his head from her breast. “I’m going to pleasure you like no man has ever done before.”
She cried out when his hand began to move in imitation of the act she craved. Of its own accord, her body shook with need. He bit her nipple gently, stroking the tip with his tongue.
She moved her hand over his erection, stroking him through the rough wool of his trews.
“Witch,” he whispered against her skin. “You’ve cast your spell upon me.”
The fire building inside her body blazed as his fingers continued to pump inside of her. She moaned, helpless as his mouth ravaged hers, his thumb pushing her higher until flames of release erupted. She shuddered violently, riding the wave until she rested limp upon the ground.
Oh, it was wicked to be touched this way. But no longer did she feel bound to Davin. She had never shared this with him, nor had she given him her heart. In this moment with Kieran, she felt awakened.
“Make love to me,” she urged, reaching for the ties of his trews.
