Celtic Fire

by Joy Nash

  “Oh, I will, Father,” Marcus said fervently.

  “Now then. Magister Demetrius has already returned to the library. No doubt you and Hercules should join him.”

  “Yes, sir.” Marcus led his dubious companion out of the courtyard. Lucius looked about. Candidus had dispersed the remainder of the household. Even Vetus had disappeared—Lucius had caught a glimpse of the tribune retreating to his bath some moments before.

  He stood alone in the garden with Rhiannon. She met his gaze, her golden eyes glowing with approval. “Thank you,” she said. “Your kindness meant so much to Marcus.”

  “It’s but a dog,” Lucius replied. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I wasn’t speaking of Hercules,” she said softly.

  Lucius frowned. “What then?”

  “The embrace you gave your son.”

  His face heated. “I didn’t stop to consider it.”

  “That’s only how it should be! Did you not see how Marcus reacted to your touch?”

  “Yes. He was embarrassed.”

  “Less so than his father,” Rhiannon said in a teasing tone. Her lilting laughter wrapped around his heart, causing a heady lightness he hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity.

  It was happiness, he realized.

  Rhiannon turned toward the kitchen. Without thinking, Lucius put out his hand and stopped her with a touch on her arm. Once she disappeared through the doorway, Aulus would return, and he didn’t think he had the strength to bear it.

  “Don’t go.”

  She gestured to the ruined flower bed. “I thought to find a trowel.”

  “There’s no need. One of the other women will attend to it.” His voice sounded strangely hoarse.

  He stepped close enough to catch her scent. Forest mist, mysterious and eternal. Her coppery lashes swept upward. Her eyes locked with his and he searched the clear depths of her gaze, seeking refuge.

  His hand still rested on her arm. He slid it to her shoulder and kneaded the muscles there, turning her and drawing her in until her breasts flattened against his breastplate. Despite the mud that spattered his armor, she leaned into him, her lips parting in a soft gasp.

  He bent his head and kissed her. She tasted of fruit forbidden by the gods, so tantalizing that a man would gladly offer his life for just one morsel of it. He suckled her lower lip, drinking her sweetness. She returned his ardor, opening her mouth to his questing tongue. He plunged deep, taking what she offered and more.

  A shudder passed through her body. In the next instant she turned to flame in his arms, searing him with her kisses, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape and tugging so hard he wondered that the strands did not pull from his scalp. His rod, already hard, grew stiffer. He cupped her buttocks in his palms and pulled her hips flush against him, cursing the barrier of his war belt.

  Need gripped him like a fever. In the dim recesses of his mind he heard a voice warning caution, but he gave it no heed. At that moment he no longer cared if his sanity shattered or if his soul was lost forever. He only wondered why he’d fought so hard to keep it.

  Lust surged through his veins, demanding that he claim Rhiannon on the very ground upon which they stood. He choked back the urge. Half the household could be watching from the shadowed doorways ringing the courtyard.

  He gripped her waist with both hands and thrust her away. She looked up at him, a dazed expression on her face.

  “Not here,” he gasped. “Above stairs.”

  Her eyes widened as if she’d suddenly realized what they’d been doing and now thought better of it. “No, I …”

  He forced his fingers to loosen his grip on her waist. “I’ll not hurt you,” he said in a fierce whisper. “I would protect you with my life. Say you believe me.”

  Her expression changed to one he might have sworn was guilt. “I do.”

  He swallowed hard. “Then will you have me, Rhiannon?”

  Tears were on her lashes. He thought for one dreadful moment that she would refuse him yet again, but after a brief hesitation she nodded and the relief he felt was sweet. She lifted her hand and traced a trembling path along the line of his jaw. When she ventured too near his mouth, he caught her fingertip between his lips. He watched her eyes widen as he suckled, then darken when he captured her hand in his and flicked his tongue into the center of her palm.

  Her breath quickened. “Will you have me?” he asked again, needing to hear her acceptance.

  Her gaze fell to his mouth, and her tongue flicked out to lick lips already swollen with his kisses. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll have you, Lucius.”

  He needed no more encouragement. Bending low, he swept her into his arms. She clutched at his shoulders and buried her face in the curve of his neck, her long curls brushing a tantalizing caress over his bare arms. He took the steps to his bedchamber three at a time, but even so it seemed like an eternity before he emerged on the upper level. Her heat seeped around the edges of his armor, causing his heart to race and his thoughts to cloud. His rod hardened beyond endurance. He reached for the door and fumbled with the latch, cursing when the simple mechanism refused to yield.

  Rhiannon laughed softly and nudged his fingers aside. “Let me do it.”

  The door swung open. He shoved his way into the chamber, wanting nothing so much as to fall on the woman in his arms like a stag in rut, marking her as his own and obliterating the memories—both good and ill—of any who might have come before him. He denied his craving. Rhiannon needed a tender lover, not a savage brute who would take his own pleasure with no thought of hers.

  He tumbled her onto Aulus’s wide bed. She lay on her back on the coverlet, gazing up at him with eyes as heated as a summer night. Her hair was a wild blaze of fire, her tunic hiked up past her knees. His control faltered.

  Then Rhiannon smiled. She lifted her arms, beckoning him closer, and all restraint fled.

  * * *

  Rhiannon lay trapped by Lucius’s hungry gaze. Her heart pounded as she watched his shaking fingers loosen the fastenings of his war belt. She could not have looked away for her life, even if she had desired such a thing. She didn’t. She wanted nothing more than to be lost in the dark glitter of his eyes, surrounded by a thousand stars, seeking the mysterious pleasures she knew were hidden there.

  His sword and belt fell to the floor with a thud. The sound carried a finality Rhiannon no longer wished to deny. For good or ill, she would give herself to her clan’s enemy, not because she’d been ordered to seduce him, but for the simple reason that she could no longer hold herself away.

  Soon enough she would return to her people and the duty she owed to them. Soon enough she would welcome Edmyg to her bed as her king and consort. That was her future and she could not gainsay it. But here, this night, in this place, the future would not intrude.

  Here, tonight, she belonged only to Lucius.

  When he’d laughed and touched his son with love, her heart had melted. She’d seen his soul in that instant as she had two nights before when he’d pleaded with her to banish Aulus’s ghost. His façade of cool discipline was a sham, no more a real part of him than the armor he donned to shield his body. Once stripped of its protection, he was revealed as a man whose emotions ran so deep he feared he would drown in them.

  His strength mingled with his aching vulnerability drew her to him more surely than any command he might have thought to issue. A flame of yearning came to life in her womb as he stripped off his armor and tunic. When both had fallen to the floor, she sucked in a breath between her teeth.

  He stood before her naked and aroused, like some virile god of midnight. His golden-dark skin stretched over the hard muscles of a warrior. Black, springy curls danced across his chest and dipped in a tight V over his flat stomach to the dark nest below. His cock, smooth and erect, rose in unrepentant glory.

  Lassitude stole across her limbs, weighting them, while at the same time a curious restlessness stirred in her belly. Her hips shifted forward, s
eeking relief from the fierce ache that had settled there. The slight movement did not go unnoticed by Lucius. He caught her gaze and his lips parted, baring his teeth.

  He moved toward her, slow and silent as a wolf. Sudden apprehension stole Rhiannon’s breath as he advanced. He’d vowed not to hurt her, but he was a man, with a man’s lusts. Would he take her fast and hard, completing the act before she found more than a whisper of pleasure? Or, worse, would he demand more of her, more than she knew how to give?

  She’d never given her heart to Niall, had never allowed him to touch her deepest secrets. Instinctively, she knew Lucius would not be satisfied with such a pale surrender. He would strip her soul to its essence.

  The thought terrified her.

  It also aroused her beyond bearing. Desire shot through her veins like fire-tipped arrows. She felt hot, and empty, and aching. She writhed as she caught the scent of him, the peaks of her breasts hardening. The fabric of her tunic chafed the sensitive tips. She longed for Lucius to slip the garment over her heated skin.

  She knew by the fierce expression in his eyes he desired it, too, but he did not close the last bit of distance between them. Instead he moved away to the foot of the bed and gripped the raised end of the frame with both hands. His cock rested on the top edge of the intricate woodcarvings, pointing at her loins. The thought of its wide head penetrating her slick folds made her throat go dry.

  “Remove your tunic,” Lucius said hoarsely. “If I attempt the task, the garment will surely be shredded past repair.”

  Rhiannon blushed, but she could no more deny his request than she could refuse her lungs air. She pushed herself to a sitting position and unknotted the length of cord at her waist. Her fingers found the hem of her tunic and drew it slowly upward. Cool air brushed her thighs, then caressed the curls between her legs.

  Lucius went still, watching, his breath growing rougher with each pass. A giddy sense of power filled Rhiannon. Bunching the linen in her fists, she eased it higher by infinite degrees over her hips, her stomach, her breasts. A gasp escaped her lips as the fabric grazed her swollen nipples. Then the garment whispered over her head, slid a slow path down her arm, and disappeared onto the floor.

  “So beautiful,” Lucius said, but he made no move toward her. His dark gaze caressed her from head to foot. Rhiannon’s body responded to his scrutiny with a longing so violent she began to tremble.

  “Please,” she said.

  “Please?”

  “I want—”

  “What?” He leaned forward. “What is it you want from me, Rhiannon?”

  Everything, Rhiannon thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. She suspected there was no need—surely Lucius could see the answer in her eyes.

  “Lie back and place your hands above your head.”

  The soft command coiled around her like the first murmur of a storm. Dizzily, she complied, lowering herself to the cushions and stretching like a cat. Her fingers reached up behind her and sought purchase in the carved terminal of the bed frame.

  “Part your legs.” Lucius’s voice thrummed with urgency. Moisture seeped onto Rhiannon’s thighs and her blood rushed in her ears. She groaned but lay still, staring up at him, too embarrassed to comply.

  Lucius’s heated gaze burned a path down her body, halting, she knew, at the bright triangle of curls that guarded her sex.

  “Open for me, Rhiannon.”

  As if of their own accord, her knees fell apart.

  “Wider.”

  She flushed hot and her breath came in shallow gasps, but she did as he asked, opening herself to his hunger.

  His gaze consumed her. And though it hardly seemed possible, his cock swelled even larger. Rhiannon went slick and wet with the wanting of him, even as she wondered if he would fit within.

  He leaned close, but didn’t reach for her. His white-knuckled fists gripped the bed frame so tightly she feared the wood was in danger of splintering.

  “Touch yourself for me, Rhiannon.”

  She looked up at him in dazed confusion. “What?”

  “Cup your breasts with your palms.”

  Lightning need, mingled with fear, shot through her. Emotions she’d never bared to the day fought to rise, called by a man she’d known but a sennight. Yet her soul leapt to his, finding some reflection of its own essence. She knew not why this should be so. She only knew that when Lucius spoke his dark, shameful commands, she was help less to resist him.

  Slowly, she unclenched her fingers from the bed frame and smoothed her palms over her flushed skin. Sliding her hands under her breasts, she lifted the mounds like an offering.

  “Brush your fingertips across the peaks.”

  The fiery jolt she felt when she complied took her breath away. “Come to me now, Lucius.” She touched her breasts again, aching for his hands upon her.

  His dark eyes flared with satisfaction. “Soon.” He drew a long breath. “First, part your folds for me.” He loosened his grip on the bed frame long enough to brush an agonizing stroke over the curls between her thighs. “Here.”

  She clenched deep inside, wanting to beg him to fill her there, where she felt nothing but emptiness. But the hard, almost painful expression on his face told her he wouldn’t comply until she’d done as he’d asked. She moved her trembling hand downward by slow degrees. Her fingers touched her own soft, bare flesh and slid along the hot dew of her desire.

  His breath left in a rush. His body, already strung tight as a bow, tautened further. Beads of perspiration appeared on his brow, but still he didn’t reach for her. His eyes consumed her, urged her on.

  She stroked herself again, finding the hidden nub that seemed to be the center of her torment. She touched it once and cried out. Her hips arched, her legs parted even wider.

  Then Lucius was upon her, his hands skimming the surface of her skin, his body covering hers with its heat. He kissed a hot trail down her neck to her breast and suckled, and if Rhiannon had thought her want unbearable before, she found her anguish now to be beyond anything she could have imagined. She writhed under Lucius’s touch, wrapping her legs about his body and trying to capture his shaft between her thighs.

  Coherent thought scattered in a gale of need. It was a storm she’d never before ridden, indeed, had never even known existed.

  “Lucius—” Her plea ended in a moan when his teeth grazed her nipple.

  “Steady, my nymph.” He rose over her, supporting himself on forearms braced on either side of her head. “It’s but evening and we have all night. There’s no need to hurry.”

  She bit back a sob of frustration. Her palms skittered with urgency over his shoulders and across his chest. “I want you now.” Nay, she needed him—more than pride, more than sanity, more than breath. Her questing hand found the tip of his shaft, her finger catching a bead of moisture. A sound like a low growl tore from Lucius’s throat.

  “Now,” she said. The word was a plea, a prayer. She inhaled. The scent of his desire inflamed her. He was rough leather and restless energy, sweet balsam and hot sun. He knelt between her open thighs, but still he held himself apart from her. Too far. She needed him closer.

  She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and hissed with satisfaction when it leapt hotly in her palm. He shuddered and buried his face in the crook of her neck, catching her flesh between his teeth and nipping hard enough to send a dart of pleasure to her loins.

  “You are fire and mist at once,” he said in a tone filled with wonder. He raised his head just far enough to look into her eyes. “Are you truly mortal? Or are you Diana, come to torture me?”

  “Diana?”

  “A wild goddess. The dark forest is her realm.”

  “No goddess,” Rhiannon whispered. “I’m but a woman.”

  “Then I am content to be a man.”

  The hot tip of his shaft touched her at last, teasing, probing. Exquisite ripples of sensation overtook her as her hips tilted upward. He entered her slowly in one endless thrust,
opening and stretching her flesh until he lay hot and full inside her.

  The feel of him was like the summer dawn, sweet and wild. She clenched his cock with her body, sending a spasm of pleasure through her, and she knew he felt it, too, because his arms began to tremble with the exertion of holding himself motionless within her.

  She opened herself further, lifting her hips and spreading her knees as she stretched to take in all of him. She gripped his buttocks and pulled him closer, wanting more.

  “For the love of Jupiter, be still but a moment,” Lucius said. His expression was fierce, but his lips curved in a rueful half smile. “Or you’ll end your pleasure before it’s begun.”

  Low laughter bubbled in her throat. She circled her hips and smiled when his growl sounded in her ear. He uttered an oath and surrendered to her. His mouth claimed hers in a punishing kiss as he began to move.

  Her body responded with a flood of sensation, a turbulent combination of bliss and agony. Lucius’s tongue plunged and retreated with excruciating leisure. His cock matched the rhythm, thrusting and withdrawing in long, slow strokes. Rhiannon gripped his shoulders and bucked against him. If he didn’t increase the tempo of their joining, she would surely die before she reached … what? She could not fathom the answer, but suspected Lucius knew all too well what her body craved.

  She moved again, desperate to put an end to her fevered quest. Lucius answered her plea by sliding his hands to her hips and holding her motionless beneath him. She cried out in protest, but his grip only tightened and she could do little but accept the pace he’d set.

  He broke their kiss and drew back. His eyes glittered with triumph. A wash of vulnerability assailed Rhiannon, but then he moved inside her again, faster this time, and the wave of intense pleasure eclipsed her fears. He repeated the movement, thrusting forward, then back quickly several times before returning once again to a slow, ruthless slide.

  Rhiannon nearly screamed in frustration. She fisted her hands in the blanket. “Faster,” she begged.

  A half smile lifted one corner of his mouth, but his eyes had gone dark and held no hint of humor. He granted her wish, increasing his tempo, at the same time easing his grip on her body. Rhiannon sent a prayer of thanks to Briga.