“I’d prefer a kiss.”
“My pleasure. I can’t remember when I’ve had a more enlightening conversation.” Judoc sets a soft kiss on my wrinkled forehead.
That won’t do at all.
“I’ll lie by the fire,” I say. “My bones need the warmth.”
Judoc lays a thick mat near the hearth, piling it high with blankets. He bids me good night and lies on the big carved bed in the other room.
Walking all day tires me out, so I fall asleep quickly. Sometime during the night the fire goes out and I begin to shiver. Judoc must hear my chattering teeth because he gets up and rekindles the flame. My skin is old and thin, and I shiver despite the warmth.
“I’m sorry I let the fire go out, gran—Cailli. I’m a poor host.” Judoc lies down behind me. His body heat warms my bones better than any fire. “You’re freezing.” He hugs me until I stop shaking.
I snuggle into him, the fragrant smoke mixing with the scent of his maleness.
“If I had a woman like you, I would be happy,” he says into my white hair.
Despite my stiff neck, I turn my head. “You’ll find the right woman.”
Judoc touches his lips to mine. It’s a kiss of goodness and heartfelt respect, of admiration and adoration. It’s the right kind of kiss.
It happens quickly. My brittle bones strengthen. My hair changes from white to deep auburn. My skin smooths and tightens. Every wrinkle vanishes. My stomach firms and plumps, and my ass grows round and succulent as a blueberry. My breasts swell and lift, and my breath sweetens.
Judoc jumps up and stares at me, his mouth agape. “Who are you?”
I pull my dress off, the firelight casting a golden glow over my young naked body, and enjoy the heat of his stare.
“Are you an enchantress?” Judoc’s gaze wanders the length of my body.
“I am the Cailleach, daughter of the little sun. Your righteous kiss turned me back into a young maiden again.” I roll on my side so he can better admire the dip of my waist and curve of my hip.
Judoc’s mouth hangs open. “The Cailleach? The ageless goddess of winter?”
“Yes, and the Mother of Mountains and Maker of Kings.” I bite my lip and smile.
Judoc kneels before me, his head shaking in amazement. “My kiss transformed you? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Now is not the time to tell Judoc I have chosen him to be the next great sovereign. He is too besotted, my beauty and nakedness inflaming his lust.
Judoc stretches out his hand to trace the contours of my body. “Your skin is as smooth as butter.” His eyes shine with desire. “I want you, Cailli.”
“You may have me.” I thrust out my breasts.
Judoc gives me a tender grin. “I want you, but not just your beautiful body for one short night. I want the sassy spirit that captured my attention the moment you came to my door.” Judoc tugs on my nipple. “Would you ever consider wedding a man like me?”
I stroke his face, rough with stubble. “You’ll have to prove yourself.”
He bends over and kisses my forehead, then my eye-lids, nose, cheeks, and chin. “Cailli, Cailli.” He brushes his mouth across mine, parts my lips with his tongue, and rolls me onto my back.
He tastes of ale and vigor, and I savor his prodding tongue with my own. He is bold as his lips, teeth, and tongue explore my mouth. He bites my lips and I yelp with delight. The satisfying sting sends a tingle straight to my cunny. I nibble back and he groans, his hand finding my bosom and its ripe nipples. Judoc lowers his head and sucks hard on each one, each fervent tug engorging my clit. His hand caresses my belly, skims over my hips to grab a fair handful of ass. I gasp at his confidence as his hand slides between my cheeks to feel my cunny from behind. I drape my leg over him as his fingers glide over my wetness and bring it to my anus. I arch my back and moan and he does it again, two fingers rubbing against my clit then back up to encircle my anus. My cunny throbs and my sphincter pulses tighter with
each pass.
Judoc gives each nipple a quick bite before laying me on my back and pushing my thighs apart. “I know you’ll like this.” He spreads me wide and sticks out his tongue.
I gasp! His tongue is long! Longer than I’ve ever seen before. He curls the sides inward and I giggle.
“Fuck me with that tongue!” I say.
“Not yet.” Judoc laps his tongue across my cunny while I writhe under him. Tremors of anticipation gather at my engorged valley, building as he loops his tongue around my clit.
I grab a fistful of his red curls and spread my thighs wide, and when I feel his tongue enter my sex, I cry out with delight. I am molten beneath him, my nether parts throbbing, my mind fixed on release. And then, as the pleasure pushes outward, he shoves his finger into my anus. Finger and tongue thrust in unison as I scream my pleasure to the sky. It is waves crashing against the cliffs. A flock of birds lifting up all at once, the air tumultuous with their flight. My toes curl as bliss thrashes over my body.
Judoc scrambles atop me, lifts both legs over one broad shoulder and plows into me.
“You’re so fucking tight!” he gasps. “I can’t hold back—I can’t. . . .” He slows down and looks at me, takes measured deep breaths, controls himself. “I’m going to fuck you often and hard, Cailli. Just like you like it.”
Judoc brings me to orgasm three more times before he loses control and hammers against me without restraint. He rumbles his orgasm as one hand tugs my hair.
Sweating and sticky and smelling like my pussy, he lowers himself beside me. “Am I worthy?”
“Never had a man double fuck me with tongue and finger.” I smooth his curls back from his forehead. “You might just be my new favorite.”
The morning dawns cool and clear when Judoc kisses me awake. “Will you marry me?”
I wrinkle my nose and giggle. “Only if you do it again.”
And we do. Again and again.
Years pass, and Judoc unites the clans, bringing prosperity and peace to the land. I give him six sons and four daughters. My happiness is revealed through the seasons with fine weather, fertile land and animals, and plentiful fish and fowl. Judoc lives to be ninety-nine years old, and our marriage is full of laughter and love and good sex. And before I know it I am old, once again the Auld Wyfe of Thunder.
I am the Cailleach. Heed me well.
Stories about the Celtic Goddess of Ireland, Scotland, and England date back to before Christianity. The ninth-century poem, “The Old Woman of Beare” is a favorite. The Cailleach, also known as the Queen of Winter and the Veiled One, is credited with forming the rocky cliffs, mountains, and megaliths.
OF TOLLS AND TITHES
“Oh my.” Janet looked out the window, surprised to see dark clouds obscuring the September sun. “I must get home. Father will be worried and it looks like it’s going to rain.”
Cheek to cheek, Janet and her best friend, Brianna, gazed skyward at the gathering storm.
“Stay here tonight.” Brianna nudged Janet. “We can ask Nora about . . .” She burst into a fit of giggles.
Sex. It had been the topic of discussion all afternoon, the two virgins of marriageable age whispering about the mysteries of men and what to expect.
“Nora? The cook? Oh my. She’s so old,” said Janet, sniffing the air.
It smelled like rain.
“You ask Nora.” Janet picked up her green mantle, draped the long wool fabric around her shoulders, and adjusted it to cover her head.
Brianna blanched. “She’d tell Father, and then he’ll lock me in my room until my wedding day. No, you must ask her.”
Janet smiled. “Next visit.” She tapped a kiss on Brianna’s cheek. “I have to hurry. My father will lock me in a room if I’m not home before dark.”
Brianna opened the front door. “Maybe you can catch a ride home on a farmer’s wagon.”
“Father doesn’t like me taking rides from his tenants. They’ll expect a reward. I’ll take a shortcut,” said Janet.
Brianna pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t go through the forest. It’s too dangerous. Tam Lin will stop you and make you pay a toll for crossing.”
Janet laughed, her scattered freckles dancing on her cheeks. “I’m not afraid of a faerie no one has ever seen before.” She tucked a disobedient lock of golden hair behind her ear.
Brianna’s fingers dug into her arm. “My grandmother met him and had to pay the ultimate price.”
Janet was a kindhearted girl; she did not want to tell Brianna that Tam Lin was a story invented by young women as a way to justify lost virginity. What better way to explain the lack of blood on the nuptial sheet than a faerie stealing your virginity because of a shortcut through the woods?
“Okay, I won’t go that way.” Janet’s stomach twisted at the lie, but she didn’t want to offend her friend. In truth, she was more fearful of her father’s anger than an imaginary faerie.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Janet hugged Brianna just as the first drop of rain hit her freckled button nose.
Janet hurried away, hitching up her kirtle and breaking into a run at the edge of the village. As the crow
flies, her house was not far, just beyond the large grove of alder, ash, birch, and oak. But because the town folk believed it was inhabited by fae, no road had been cut through it, the only way to the lord’s manor a wide dirt road around the woods. Janet’s father, Lord Grady, having read philosophy at the University of Oxford, did not believe in fae. Yet he never scoffed at the villagers’ belief, although he did remind his daughter that the woods were fine places for poachers and thieves to hide.
Another drop splashed on Janet’s rosy cheek. It wouldn’t be long before the clouds opened up and poured down.
Janet lifted her face to the sky and felt a third drop. The rain would feel good on this hot September day. She was about to round the bend when she heard angry shouting. She stopped, inching forward until she saw the cause of the fracas. Two of her father’s tenants were yelling at each other, one farmer pointing at his over-turned cart of asparagus, carrots, and peas. The second farmer, his own cart filled with broad beans and cucumbers, pointed to his donkey’s lifted hind leg.
Worse yet, a rowdy group of big-boned farm boys carrying sickles and hoes were coming from the other direction. Janet knew trouble when she saw it. Although her intended shortcut was farther down the road—a dogleg through the edge of the woods—she changed her mind to avoid the men, and stepped into the woods just as the first scatterings of raindrops fell to the ground.
If she walked fast enough she would make it home before dark, the trees providing some shelter from the rain. Soon enough, Janet spied a footpath that seemed to meander in the right direction.
The early evening storm clouds emitted an eerie light, all grays and dull greens under a drab plum-colored sky. The raindrops plop-plop-plopped, loud splats on the leafy canopy that rolled off and splashed to the ground. It sounded like twice the rainfall.
Janet lifted her foot and checked the underside of her soft leather shoes. They were still dry. She swallowed her uneasiness as the tall trees closed in around her, their gnarled limbs reaching out overhead like woodland specters. Only the twittering birds eased her foreboding.
Up ahead was a small clearing with a covered stone well draped by a tangle of roses and honeysuckle over its roof. The clearing was bright and vivid with green ferns and pink petals. The sweet fragrance of both flowers drew Janet like a bee. Moss hugged the stone well in a checkerboard pattern, and an old wooden bucket sat on the ledge. Nearby, a steed the color of milk munched on some grass. Surely, the horse belonged to someone.
“Anybody here?” Janet stepped into the clearing, glad to leave the forest’s dark gloom despite the light rain.
The horse looked up, shook its head, then walked into the woods.
Assuming the horse had wandered away from his owner and she was alone, Janet took a moment to pick a few roses growing near the well for Ethne, the old cook who was like a mother to her. Janet took hold of a thick vine and snapped off a long stemmed rose in full bloom.
“Mmmm.” Janet inhaled its sweetness and reached out for another.
“You’re destroying my home.”
Janet spun on her heels and found a shirtless man leaning against a tree, large muscular biceps crossed over a hard, hairless chest.
She thrust out the flowers, surprise making her forget that it was her father who owned the Carterhaugh woods and fields. “I’m sorry.”
The man tucked his chestnut-colored hair behind his ears. Janet gasped.
His ears were large and pointed. His pale skin without blemish. And his hair had an unnatural sheen. Janet blushed. The green cloth tied around his hips was scan-dalously low and stopped too high above his thighs. The faerie was practically naked!
He pushed himself off the tree and circled about her. “How dare you steal from me?”
The faerie was tall, the top of Janet’s head well below his broad shoulders.
Janet straightened her spine. “Steal? These woods belong to my father, Lord Grady.”
The faerie rolled his eyes. “The Queen of Faeries owns these woods. Lord Grady is merely a temporary mortal caretaker.”
Janet chewed on her lip in thought, then wiggled the roses at him. “I said I was sorry. Here, take the flowers, and I’ll be on my way.”
“You have a toll to pay first.” The faerie gently pushed back the mantle over her head. He sighed with pleasure as he spread his fingers into the nape of her neck, releasing the coiled blonde tresses. “Your hair is like spun gold.” He combed his fingers through it, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through Janet. “I could get lost in its waves and”—he wrapped a tendril around his finger and pulled Janet close—”curls.”
Blood pounded in Janet’s ears and her mouth watered as though she were hungry. “Are you Tam Lin?”
The faerie bent down. “At your service.” His warm breath tickled her ear.
A squeak sprung unbidden from Janet’s lips.
Tam Lin’s finger wandered over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “Did you know your freckles match the pattern of the stars overhead?”
Janet’s eyes grew wide, his voice and touch so enthralling that all her fears vanished. “How do you know? The sky is overcast.” At that moment, several raindrops fell on her face.
Tam Lin lifted a droplet to his finger and tasted. “Delicious.” He flicked off the others with his tongue.
His intimate touch sent thrilling quivers through Janet’s limbs, and a strange warmth gathered below, a pleasing tug in her nethers she had never felt before. “I best be going.” She took a step backward, tripped over a tree root, and fell on her bum.
Instead of helping her up, Tam Lin sat beside her. “The woods are a dangerous place for pretty girls.” He placed his hand on her bare ankle.
“I really must be going.” Janet made no move to get up. The feel of his fingers stroking her ankle stirred her nethers even more.
“As soon as you pay the toll.” He slid off one shoe and held her wee bare foot in his large hand.
“I don’t have any money,” she said as he slid off the other shoe. “Or jewelry.”
Tam Lin lifted her foot to his mouth and whisked a kiss across the underside that rocketed a hot tingle up her leg.
Janet sucked in the damp air. “I can get it for you. Father will pay you.”
Tam Lin shook his head, then wrapped his lips around her big toe and sucked.
“Oh my!” said Janet. His sucking stiffened her nipples!
Tam Lin slowly drew her toe past his lips. “The toll is gold, jewels or...”
“My toes?” Maybe the myth was wrong and Tam Lin just had a toe fetish.
“Your maidenhead.” Tam Lin snaked his hand up her kirtle and caressed her inner thigh.
“Oh my!” Janet exhaled, the heated tug in her nethers now quite uncomfortable. She crossed her legs and scooted away on her bum. “Fat
her will pay you double the amount.”
“The Faerie Queen demands the toll be paid immediately.” Tam Lin crawled forward and caught the hem of her kirtle. He drew himself over her, pushing her down until her head rested upon a pillow of velvet moss. “Faerie Queen’s rules, not mine. I’m only her captive and a member of her elfin knights.” His index finger traced the edge of her flower-stitched bodice.
Janet breathed hard, her eyes trained on his hand. Was it only an hour ago that she and Brianna had discussed this? “The Faerie Queen kidnapped you?”
“Aye, many years ago I was on a hunting trip with Lord Roxburgh, my grandfather, when something—the Faerie Queen no doubt—spooked my horse and sent him rearing. I lost my balance and fell off right into the Faerie Queen’s arms and into faerie land. But enough about me.” Tam Lin brushed his hand across her bodice and Janet’s breasts heaved beneath. “A man could feast on your bosom for hours.” Tam Lin gave them a gentle squeeze. “But a faerie could suckle for a lifetime.” He pulled the neckline over her shoulders and shimmied the kirtle over her lovely heavy breasts, grinning when he saw the large mauve areolas and pointed pink nipples.
“Oh my!” said Janet as two fat raindrops dripped down and ran between her cleavage.
A breast in each hand, Tam Lin lowered his head and flicked his tongue up the tiny rivulet. The touch of his tongue moistened her cunny.
“Oh my!” Janet arched her back and thrust her bosom forward.
Tam Lin massaged her breasts, his mouth wandering over her creamy skin and his tongue licking her nipples. Janet couldn’t protest—didn’t want to protest. The sensations rendered her incapable of anything but most unladylike sounds.
Tam Lin kissed upward. He nuzzled her neck before tracing her lips with his thumb. “What’s your name, my bonny blonde lass?”
“Janet,” she panted. The feel of his hand as he caressed her breasts made her breathless with desire.
“May I kiss you, Janet?” His breath was fresh as the forest after a rainfall, with a hint of rosemary.
Legends of Lust Page 10
