by Ashley York
“See how she’s pressing against him like she’ll die if he doesn’t poke her? That’s when ye ken they’re ready for ye.”
Tadhg couldn’t take his eyes off of them. The man yanked down the widow’s gown, her hefty breasts spilling out. The soldier’s moan of appreciation accompanied him eagerly suckling her teats, pulling up her skirts, and settling himself between her spread legs. He yanked up his leine and impaled her.
“How do ye ken that’s when she’s ready?”
“Because that’s what they always do before they take it.”
The widow groaned and the man dug his toes into the ground for leverage while he pumped into her.
“See? She’s not moaning in pain.”
Tadhg glanced toward his friend. “I ken ye’ve been telling me ‘twas so for quite a while now.”
Tadhg couldn’t be certain if it was the groans or the pumping that had put him into such a state but he was feeling quite confident of his own ability when he’d followed Tisa into the lean-to behind the house.
“Will ye kiss me then, Tadhg MacNaughton?”
He could still see her with her closed eyes and upturned mouth. She’d looked very grown with that dress of her sister’s hanging on all her curves. Tadhg had licked his lips. He was more than ready to taste her, feel her lips on his but the closer he got, the more unsure he became. And then he froze like a twig stuck in the ice. She finally opened her eyes when he was a nose’s length away.
“What are ye waiting on, my fine lad? I’ve a mind to have yer lips on mine. Will ye be disappointing me?”
She pressed her lips forward and didn’t seem to notice how he was unable to move. She moved just fine. Her soft lips pressed against his, seemingly not even noticing the lack of response on his part. He took a breath for fear of passing out and she slid her tongue into his mouth.
For the flash of a moment, he thought of asking her where she learned such a thing but then he didn’t care. He was eagerly responding. He couldn’t stop himself from responding. His arms were enclosing her, heaving her against him as if his life depended on it. And that pleasant feeling traveled all the way down to his own hardened tarse. A tarse that sought out her warmth like a bee to honey, pressing at the juncture of her legs, his hips moving of their own accord. She wasn’t repulsed. She didn’t push him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms about his waist, hugging him just as tight. And when she withdrew, she smiled. His stiff rod bobbing against her but she said nothing about it.
“I love ye, Tadhg,” she said. “With all my heart. Whenever ye’re ready to take a wife, I’ll be here waiting for ye. I dunna want anyone’s arms about me but yers.”
An owl sounded in the tree above him. An answering call in the distance. The large flapping sound filled the silence along with Sean’s snoring. Tisa hadn’t waited. Her father must have found another as soon as the betrothal was broken.
He had nothing to hold on to now. Both his parents were dead. The survival of a clan rested on his shoulders alone and he had no one to share that burden with. No one to warm his bed at night. No one to plan a future with.
When he finally slept, he had dark dreams. Instead of witnessing the soldier with the widow, it was Tisa who groaned in pleasure beneath him. Her large, pink nipples glistening from the soldier’s mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut in her ecstasy. Tadhg had tried to stop them but she just smiled at him. A knowing smile that spoke of her own ability to continue on without him. To find pleasure in another’s arms, just like his own mother.
“Tadhg, wake up. Ye’re having a nightmare.” Sean was shaking Tadhg’s shoulder but he couldn’t break out of the dream. “Come on, Tadhg. ‘Tis fine. We’ll see Brighit safe.”
Tadhg jerked his body to a sitting position and ran his hands through his hair. He was breathing like he’d run a great race. Sean’s worried eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep. He handed a cup of something hot to Tadhg.
“Ye were being chased by the devil methinks.”
Tadhg drank the contents. “Aye. The devil.”
“We’ve readied the horses.” Eoghan offered. “Should we be off?”
“We’ll stop at the first inn. We need to get food in our bellies. We’re no good to her like this.”
“Mayhap someone will have seen her,” Sean said.
By mid-morning, they came upon a small village with a blacksmith and an inn. The others saw to the care of their horses and began asking around about Brighit. Tadhg went into the inn. Norman soldiers sat at a large table by the hearth. They paid him little attention as they played their game of wooden dice. The rest of the large room was still chilled by the outside air. A woman with long, blond hair brought him a mug. She was a tall woman but with the right amount of curves.
“Are ye here for food as well?”
“As well as what?”
She smiled. “As well as something to drink?” She lifted the clay pitcher she also carried then leaned in closer, frowning. “Or are ye after something else altogether?”
“Something else altogether.” Tadhg needed to get this over with. He had no reason to wait. He’d been waiting forever.
She turned to the table with the soldiers, topped off their drinking vessels but left the pitcher at the end of their table.
Turning to Tadhg, she extended her hand. He took it and followed her to what he’d thought was probably the kitchen. Instead, there was a small pallet in the corner, the window covered with a cloth. She doffed her gown without preamble. She wore nothing beneath.
He hadn’t expected it to be like this. He’d expected kissing and groping and something to be ignited within him. Her pert breasts were working on his desire so he concentrated on them. He opened his mouth and latched on to a hard nipple. She straddled him, pushing herself further into his mouth.
“Ye’re one to take yer time, I see.”
Tadhg ignored her comments, his hands slipped along her firm bottom, grasping and pulling. He was hard as soon as she dropped her gown. Her hands free, she worked at his rod, yanking and stretching through the material.
“A hefty one.”
Again he ignored her comments but flipped her over to be under him. She spread her legs. His breasts were firm in his mouth and she pushed herself against his groin. He wanted to touch her between her legs. She was slippery and he prodded her, trying to see with his hand what he had never seen. She yanked up his leine with one solid pull. His length was right there, ready to press into her. Ready to feel the tightness he’d only imagined. To know the release that wasn’t just in his hand.
“Well?”
One push and he’d be in. He could pump into her the way he’d longed to pump into Tisa. He could take her any way he wanted. She wouldn’t complain.
She adjusted herself, widening her legs, her feet flat on the bed. He realized she wanted to finish and was about to see to it. He shoved off the low bed.
“What are ye about?”
Tadhg pulled his leine over his treacherous prick that convinced him he could do this with anyone and it would be just as good as if it were with Tisa. Wrong.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
He dropped a silver coin on her naked chest.
CHAPTER EIGHT
~
THE DAY TISA ARRIVED at her new home it was dark and stormy. They’d been keeping ahead of the impending rain the whole day. From the rise overlooking the sea, dark, angry clouds hugged the coastline, making it impossible to see the ocean. The sound of crashing waves pounding along the rocky shore made her stop. Her mount shifted beneath her as if wary as well. Darragh come up alongside and pointed out the little cluster of roundhouses nestled into the valley below.
“That is yer new home,” he said.
Several small buildings surrounded a larger longhouse in the center. It appeared quite peaceful despite the many barren trees no longer protecting it from the sea breezes.
“It looks peaceful.”
He snorted beside her. “Dunna be fooled. There is nothing about m
y father, including his clan, that is peaceful but ye’ve witnessed that yerself.”
His father had been relentless in keeping track of their whereabouts. He’d continued to impose on them, making lewd suggestions when they separated from the group at night. Tisa would almost believe she had become dulled by his comments. Almost.
“Darragh!” Aodh barked at his son. “See to the ships.”
Her husband sighed. “Father, I will see my bride settled before leaving her alone.”
Aodh laughed. A cruel laugh. The belittling laugh he often used with his son. “Afraid to leave her unprotected?”
Darragh turned to face the man that had come up behind him. “Aye, I will have her well protected before I venture off to see to yer ships.”
Aodh smiled at her. “But I’ve been so patient.”
“Then be patient about yer ships!”
Darragh took the reins of Tisa’s horse and led them both down the graceful hillside ahead of the others.
Tisa dared not breathe at this blatant show of disobedience. Once out of earshot, she whispered to her husband.
“Darragh, he is still not following.”
“I’ve shocked him into immobility.”
Tisa started to look over her shoulder.
“Nae! Dunna even glance his way. This is what he deserves for his treatment of me. Of ye!”
“Do ye not fear his retaliation against such defiance?”
Darragh was silent but continued toward the village at a good pace without letting up. Tisa said nothing else. Darragh knew his own father better than she did. She needed to trust that he knew what he was doing. He continued toward the smallest building set away from the rest. As he passed the longhouse, he finally spoke.
“This is where the next High King of Eire spends his time.”
“High King?”
Darragh turned wide eyes on her. “My father, of course. Did ye not ken of his ambitions?”
“I had not heard. I ken very little of yer clan.”
“Well, that is really the only thing ye need to ken. He has great ambitions and will not hesitate to take down anything, or anyone, that stands in his way.”
Tisa had developed a great dislike of the man and this new information only deepened it for her. “How can he hope to ever follow in the footsteps of a man like Brian Boru and replace him as High King?”
Brian Boru’s great leadership skills were legendary. He had made huge strides in unifying the clans along the fair island, a feat many had tried but fell far short of over the generations. It had earned him the title of High King.
“Oh, he doesn’t hope to replace that man.” Darragh had stopped in front of the small, round hut. He jumped off his horse and came to help her down. “He will surpass him.”
The touch of his huge hands at her waist had become the norm once Darragh began taking on the duty of assisting her. Breandan had stayed with the supply horses and gave her only passing notice. She assumed her husband had spoken to the man to get him to change his blatant jealousy of her.
“This is where I pass my time. Out of the way of my father.” He led the way into the cozy, round building and into a large center area. “We have an unspoken agreement that the man remains outside of this one place. Ye should be safe here.”
Standing in the middle of the room, three smaller areas along the sides were separated from the larger hall by heavy materials secured along the wooden beams and reaching to the floor. With the entrance behind them, it gave the central hall a square shape. Darragh ventured into the alcove along the backside with the sack he’d carried in from his horse. He held back the corner of the curtain for her to see inside.
“This is where I sleep.” He winked at her. “Not usually alone, I might add.”
A small pallet was pushed against the curved, outside wall with a small chest to the right where he dropped the sack. He crossed in front of her to the area right of the door. He lifted that covering and revealed an even smaller area within. “We can set this area up for ye.”
Tisa nodded and approached the area. “I appreciate yer kindness in giving me my own room.”
A small chest and table were along the outside wall. There was room for a pallet. He stood alongside her.
“I promise not to bother ye when ye are in here.” He smiled at her.
“I...understand.”
The sound of horses and men reached them. Darragh shook his head. “We need to unpack the horses but certainly the most important unpacking is of ye.”
She removed the heavy cloak she wore and he draped it across the coffer.
“Yer pardon, please, for not allowing ye to take any of yer belongings. I fear I was not at my best,” he said in a small voice.
“Darragh!”
Tisa would swear Aodh’s angry voice filled the entire village.
Darragh shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I need to see what the man wants. Please rest yerself. Ye may use my pallet for now. None will bother ye here.”
He left, closing the rough-hewn door tightly behind him. Tisa glanced around and assessed her new home. It wasn’t very homey but she could easily remedy that. Picking up the corner of the hanging material, she found it finely woven. Adornment could easily be added and it would give her something to focus on. She would need to see about acquiring some supplies.
Tisa lifted the last curtain to reveal a third small area with a single table in the center. The curtain fell behind her and she went to the box placed in the middle of the trestle. It was inlaid with precious jewels that surrounded the depiction of a hunt, complete with a stag, three mounted men, and seven large dogs. The intricacy of the carving spoke of the artist’s ability. Could there be someone in the village able to create something so beautiful? She would need to ask her husband when he returned.
She jumped at the knock on the door.
“Darragh?” It was Breandan’s voice.
Tisa crossed to open the door. “Breandan.”
“Tisa.”
Breandan blustered past her but she could sense his own wariness at entering.
“Did my husband send for ye?”
He turned, the dark curls around his face shifting with the movement. “I have merely come as ordered to put this,” he lifted the small bag she hadn’t noticed in his hand, “away.”
“And who gave ye these orders?”
Breandan’s eyes darted around, refusing to settle again on her. He opened his mouth but she held her hand up before he could offer up his lie.
“Ye do not belong here, so please,” she opened her hand, “give it to me and get ye to the kitchen before ye are missed.”
The lad pouted but relinquished the property. With a lowered head, he went past her.
“Breandan,” Tisa wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with the man her husband clearly desired. “Let us be kind to each other.”
His eyes widened but he said nothing.
“We...have the same...need for...privacy and...we will abide by...Darragh’s instructions. Aye?”
“Aye.” He kicked at the thick rushes covering the dirt-packed floor. “I am just a bit out of my element here.”
“As am I.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “But we have come from the same place. Ye and I and Caireann. Surely we can find comfort from that.”
Breandan brightened. “That is true. It makes this place seem less strange.”
“So we will have a truce between us?”
“We shall.”
Breandan smiled with pleasure as Darragh entered.
“We shall what?” Darragh asked.
Darkness seemed to fall over Breandan’s face at the angry tone and he dropped his head as if he were ready to be scolded. He most certainly was not given leave to come here.
“Wife?”
Tisa’s temperature rose at his tone. “Is something amiss?”
Darragh pressed his lips into a displeased scowl. “I ask. Ye answer.”
“Why such a grouch? I believed ye were plea
sed to be here.”
“Ye dunna ken what pleases me.”
The comment stung like a slap.
Darragh ripped his leine over his head and went toward the alcove along the back. His room. The short braies he wore did little to mask his need for release. Breandan’s face lit up again. He remained focused on the man moving about. When the lad glanced toward her, she could read his anger at her presence. So much for a truce.
“Please, Darragh. Tell me what has happened. How I can be of help to ye.”
“The others lusting after ye is a problem. I dinna ken what to say to their taunts.”
He turned toward them, oblivious of his own state, and shook his head. “I never wanted a wife.”
Her heart sank. “I am aware of yer preference.”
Darragh finally noticed Breandan’s dreamy expression as he fairly drooled at the sight of his lover’s solid erection. Darragh glanced down, apparently just now realizing his own condition.
A flush crossed his face like a cloud, his scowl gone, and he took a slow breath. Suddenly appearing quite contented, he smiled his appreciation at Breandan who fell into his opened arms.
Tisa felt a little tug at her heart and turned away from the sight.
“Oh, ye have been waiting a long while,” Darragh’s voice was smooth as silk behind her.
A tiny speck of disappointment settled in her chest. Mayhap because she could do nothing to ease her husband’s discomfort. His happiness would certainly affect her even if they did not have sexual relations. It would be to her benefit to allow him time for his predilection without comment.
She crossed to her right with loud steps trying to block out the groans, the whispered words of encouragement, the guttural sighs of satisfaction. Avoiding the scene didn’t stop her imagination. She could clearly see the kissing. The stroking. Tisa stoked the open hearth, adding wood with a loud bang as if this were an everyday occurrence for her.
The knock at the door startled her to turn around. Breandan was rising to his feet and Darragh reached for the same leine to cover himself. Both had turned toward the sound.
