Page 21 of Tair

He laughed, a deep sound of masculine appreciation. “Och, you shall be the ending of me.”

She lifted herself and pressed back against his chest, sitting up and straddling his thighs as she curled an arm around his neck. Working herself on him with slower, smoother movements drew out the sweetness for her and, from the way his muscles coiled, tormented him in turn. Never had any lover from her past lit up her body like this, or handled her so roughly and yet so perfectly.

I’m really in trouble, aren’t I? Lucy would never have been intimate with a man she’d only known for a day. Her mother had warned her that giving into men would ruin her life. I don’t care if he does.

Tair wrapped his arms around her, supporting her as he painted her skin with his heat and sweat. The moonlit lake scent of him grew darker and cooler and heavier, as if he was taking her outside during a ferocious storm. When Tair grazed the curve of her shoulder with his mouth before biting the side of her neck, Lucy lost it entirely, impaling herself completely on his cock as her need shattered into overwhelming pleasure for a second time, and she all but came apart.

Finally. This is what I’ve always expected, and never got. He’s the one.

Somehow Tair turned her to face him, and watched her face as she shook. Trying to absorb all the sensations fountaining inside her pushed Lucy into the sort of satiation she hadn’t even known existed. He smiled fiercely before he thrust into the center of her pleasure and pumped his seed into her as she came again. Her vision blurred, turning the flames from the hearth into a blue of orange, gold and red that matched everything exploding inside her. Her body wanted to melt all over him, as if shagging him had somehow dissolved her bones. Her hair hung wet against her scalp, saturated with her sweat and his, and the sizzling tremors that shook her from her nose to her toes.

“That I will never regret,” she murmured, exhausted.

The laird kissed the sweat from her brow. “Nor I.”

Once they both emerged from the aftershocks, Tair lifted her, stood, and carried her over to another table by a wooden stand with a large pottery bowl and pitcher. Lucy was too bemused to do anything but watch him pour water into the bowl, and then immerse a swatch of linen in it. Only when he squeezed it out and wiped it over her heaving breasts did she flinch.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, trying to take the cloth from him.

He nudged away her hand. “I need see to you, wench, to ken I didnae injure you.”

Even now he behaved as if he was actually worried that he’d harmed her, even inadvertently, this man who acted like a thug and called her wench. He had to be all bluster, but why did he want her to believe otherwise?

“You didn’t.” He went still, and gently touched a pink mark near her right nipple, which made her smile. “That’s a love bite,” she murmured, covering his hand with hers. “I’ve got one on my neck, too.”

Tair looked into her eyes. “I lost my head with you. ’Twillnae happen again when you come to me.”

Lucy wanted to agree, but now that she’d had a few minutes to cool off, she could see how a repeat of this might end up being a very bad idea. She couldn’t be with a man without letting him in to her heart, and she knew nothing about the laird. This world wasn’t hers. Whatever had brought her here could whisk her right back to the future, and there would be no way she could reunite with him. That prospect made her stomach clench, as if she’d been punched in the belly.

“That may not happen.” She could have said it better, but she preferred honesty over tact. “I rushed into this with you. It was reckless and thoughtless of me.”

Instead of becoming angry Tair just nodded, and then continued wiping her down. He had no problem tidying her up between her legs before using the cloth on himself, a lover’s task that made her smile a little. He then picked up his tunic and pulled it over her head.

“I shall bid the chambermaids find you garments,” he said as he laced up the front, and then inspected her. “Skirts and such.”

“I’m not much of a skirt lover.” Lucy reached down to pick up her jeans, which she pulled on while he watched. “I won’t get burned at the stake if I dress in pants, will I?”

His brows rose. “They burn females in your time for such?”

“You’d be surprised. In some countries, they imprison, fine and flog them for not wearing a head scarf.” She could adjust to the medieval dress code, as long as she didn’t have to do that. “I want to help you find the cluet. It’s come to me twice now, so maybe I have some sort of connection with it.” When he frowned she added, “If the dark Fae queen destroys your world, mine won’t ever exist.”

“I shall speak with my war master, Cath,” he said. “He dwelled in Elphyne for many years, and may ken more of the nature of the wish cloth.”

A war master, to go with the scary chieftain? What kind of clan was this? “Fine, then I’ll wear a skirt, as long as I don’t have to bed down in that cage again.”

Tair shook his head. “You shall sleep with me in my chamber.”

“I just told you this might be a one-time thing,” Lucy said, and stepped back. “I’m not ready for more yet. I may never be.”

“’Tis your right, to choose,” he said, surprising her again. “You said the cluet, ’tis come to you twice now; I shall be there to catch the treasure if there’s a third appearance. With me you shall sleep, no’ fack.” When she started to protest again he held up his hand. “You’re as lovely and fragile as a new bloom, and I’ve a stronghold filled with my kind. Many, they’re worse than me. ’Tis for your protection.”

Lucy winced. She’d forgotten that she had been brought to a patriarchal world where women had few rights, and lived completely subservient to men.

“I’m not that fragile,” she said, mostly to herself. Yet when she met his gaze she saw again only honesty and a strange protectiveness. He might be the head brute of a clan of brutes, but he wouldn’t take advantage of her. “If your chamber comes with hot water, soap and a bed, I accept. I need a bathe and nap.”

“Good.” The laird took hold of her hands and drew her closer. “Shall we kiss to seal our bargain?”

The man was absolutely shameless. “Only if you want me to rip off your bottom lip this time.”