But I lay down in the oversized circular bed anyway, hoping to pass a couple of hours before it felt acceptable to go looking for dinner.
And then I woke…
Not lying down. Not clothed. Naked in a way I never was outside the brief seconds it took to step into a bath.
I wasn’t in a bath, though. I was sitting upright, facing the lake wall, which now contained a view of the rising morning sun. My back was resting against something—no,someone.
My sense of smell fought through the fog just enough to register the scent of butter, bread, and sugar. Like Brigid’s, but different. Less sweet bread and more like a pie crust.
Tadhg.
This must be what the Mountain King smelled like—his real scent, unmasked by cologne.
But I couldn’t see him. He sat directly behind me, his giant, tree-trunk legs bent and bracketing my waist. His chin was nestled into my shoulder, his beard brushing my neck. There was also something pressing into my lower back, hard as steel and covered in one thin cloth barrier.
Suddenly, I understood with a new kind of certainty how poor Eve must have felt. I clamped my knees together and began to raise my hands to cover my exposed chest, only to freeze at the even more shocking sight waiting at the edge of the massive bed.
Cian, the ever-silent Shadow King, kneeled there. His skin, pale as milk, gleamed in stark contrast to the jet-black fall of his hair. And the ink on his skin. It wasn’t just his hands. Those strange god-tech symbols ran up the length of both arms and over his shoulders. As if the gods he praised had written all over him.
He wasn’t bare, like me, but wore only a pair of black cotton briefs. And the tent in their middle was what Naomi would call acontext cluefor what was pressing against my spine.
“What the…” I shifted between Tadhg’s thighs.
“Ssh…” he hushed in my ear. “You’re alright, aren’t you? Remember we discussed this?”
“Remember?” My voice cracked.
“Your training,” he said, gently but firmly. Like a patient, giant teacher. “We must prepare you for the High King. Learn your body. Teach you how to receive him. This is what you agreed to when we made our pact.”
“Oh.” My heart thundered. I let out a shaky breath. “I thought there’d be more kissing. I liked that.”
The Mountain King chuckled, the sound vibrating through my spine.
“There will be kissing, Strawberry,” he promised. “We liked that, too.”
After years of being treated as ugly and repulsive by the males of St. Ailbe, my heart fluttered to hear him say that he liked kissing me. That he wanted more.
But then his affable voice darkened. “Cian, you may begin. Start at her feet,” he ordered, “and don’t stop until she’s screaming… and begging for more.”
The Shadow King took hold of my foot and massaged the arch with his thumbs. A strange thrill shot up my leg, straight into my spine, and my head fell back against Tadhg’s shoulder with a helpless moan.
He rumbled again, his hands finding my breasts. “Look at you,” he teased. “And we’ve only just begun.”
Oh my…
I swallowed hard.
What had I signed myself up for?
Survey
CIAN
This waswhat I’d been waiting for, ever since our Scottish source sent that picture to us of our future queen.
I started at her feet, pressing my lips to the top before moving to the bump above her ankle bone, beginning my not entirely scientific observations.
I could sense Tadhg working her breasts, which, unfortunately, compromised the purity of our erotic survey.
