A smile creased her lips. “You married me on the eve of Samhain. And anything that occurs on that night will last forever, don’t you remember?”
Her reminder of the tale he’d told, of Aengus, the son of Dagda, evoked an answering smile. “You’re right.”
When she drew him down for another kiss, Trahern felt an unquenchable need to mark her as his own, joining their bodies together. He pulled her atop him, fumbling with her clothing. The gown was caught in the tangle of their limbs, and he fought to free her.
Morren started to laugh when he couldn’t seem to get the laces untied. “You’ve been defeated by a length of wool.”
“I’m going to get my knife and cut it off you if I can’t get these laces loosened.” The words were only half spoken in jest.
But then, she managed to free the garment, and he lifted it away. The curve of her breasts, the sweet dip of her waist, caught him like a fist between the ribs.
“When I look upon you, I can hardly breathe,” he murmured against her skin. With his mouth, he trailed a path from her ribs to the hidden spot beneath her breast. She shivered, reaching to his own clothing to lift it away. When they were both naked, he rested his weight atop her.
“You’re keeping me warm,” she murmured, lifting her mouth to his for another kiss.
“Perhaps you can warm another part of me,” he teased, pressing his length against her hip.
Morren gave a slight shiver but smiled as she kissed him. She opened to him, uttering a soft cry when he used his shaft to tease at the moist center of her.
He wanted to drive her mad, to push her past the brink until she writhed with desire. His mouth coaxed her nipples into sharp points, and she sighed with relief when he filled her.
“Trahern,” she breathed, her hands reaching to grasp his hips. He made love to her slowly, savoring the soft depths as he entered and withdrew.
“Do you suppose I could . . . have another baby?”
The words stopped him cold. He froze in place, not knowing what to say. The idea hadn’t even entered his mind. “I thought Aileen said it wasn’t possible.”
Morren eased back, wrapping her legs around his waist in a silent urge for him to continue. “She never said it wasn’t possible. Only that it was unlikely.” She reached up and took his face between her hands. “There’s nothing I’d want more.”
Icy fear snaked through his skin, and he held still within her body. In his mind, he’d believed that she would have no children. After the bleeding and the pain she’d suffered, he’d never considered that she could bear another child.
And what if she did become pregnant? What if his own child died? Would he have to stand back and watch her suffer, watch her grieve once more? Or worse, what if she died in childbirth? It had happened to his own mother, because of him.
“You don’t have to stop,” she whispered. He heard the hurt in her voice, but he couldn’t have gone on if he’d wanted to.
Too shaken to continue, he withdrew from her body. “Morren, no. I can’t be the cause of you dying.”
“I’m not going to die.” There was anger in her voice, and she sat up, pulling the coverlet to cover her body.
“You almost died a few months ago,” he shot back. “I was there, remember? I held the body of your son in my hands.”
She flinched as though he’d struck her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sat back to stare at him. “Trahern, you’re being unreasonable.”
“Am I? I swore I would never hurt you,” he said. The vehement words poured out of him, “And I won’t. I touched you before, thinking that it was safe. I thought . . . after your son died, that you could bear no more children.”
“I don’t know if I can or not,” she admitted.
“I won’t be the cause of your suffering.” The desolate words were a vow. “If it’s a child you want, we can foster Genevieve’s daughter Alanna when she’s old enough.”
“And you’ll martyr yourself, having a celibate marriage?” Anger and sexual frustration laced her tone.
“We can give each other pleasure without the joining.” It was the only solution he could think of.
“It’s not the same.” She drew back from him, lying down and facing the wall.
He’d hurt her feelings. But damn it all, he’d been there that night, watching her suffer. Nothing could have prepared him for the helplessness, not knowing if she would live or die. He wouldn’t go through it again.
Trahern ached with longing for her, his shaft stiff and swollen. With one hand, he reached out to touch her silken hip, his fingers sliding toward the cleft between her legs.
