by Ann Gimpel
“What isna fair, lass? I’m gazing at the finest example of womanhood imaginable. And reveling in every minute.”
She giggled. At least it brought a small bit of saliva back into her mouth. “You still have clothes on, and you’re making me sound like a prize horse.”
“Aye, they’re beautiful too, but in a far different way.” A smile began in his eyes before it curved the corners of his lips.
She reached for his belt, unbuckling the smooth leather. Next, she undid the button and zipper holding his trousers in place. They glided down his slender hips and high, tight ass. He toed a shiny pair of loafers off and stepped out of his pants. The only thing left was his shorts.
Back to struggling for breath, she placed a hand over the tented-out front of his underwear. The ivory silk fabric was warm to the touch as she curved her fingers around his erection. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to see him, and she tucked her other hand into his waistband, dragging it downward. Once it cleared his cock, she untangled her other hand and pushed until his shorts were well on their way down his legs.
Almost reverently, she ran her fingers the length of his erection. Long, hard, hot, perfect, it sprang into her hand, begging for all the attention she could lave on it. He slid his hands beneath her hair, cupping her head between them. Slow, lazy, deliberate, he kissed her again. The kiss of a man claiming his woman, his intent unmistakable.
She still had a choice—if she’d wanted one, which she didn’t—but it was vanishing fast. When she looked past her desire, her path was clear, uncomplicated. If she walked away from Sean, she’d regret it forever. Not a mistake she was willing to make.
He lifted his mouth from hers. “Look at me, lass.”
She stared into the raging inferno of his eyes, cock still sandwiched between her hands. Her focus sharpened. Pieces of her life clicked into place, rearranging themselves to include him. When the dust cleared, he was a part of her, had always been a part of her, would be joined with her forever.
“Ye are blood of my blood and bone of my bone.” His voice was so deep and rich, chills ran through Liliana. “Repeat after me, lass.”
Once she did, he gripped her head more firmly, still gazing into her eyes. “I give you my body that we may be one. I give you my spirit till our life shall be done. Ye are blood of my blood and bone of my bone.”
Liliana repeated the incantation, recognizing the Druid wedding ceremony from Kat and Arlen’s joining.
Sean wrapped them in magic and toppled them onto the bed behind them. They floated downward, cushioned by power until the softness of the duvet met her bare skin. The hunger she’d felt before paled in the face of the full-on lust branding her, marking her as his. She twined her arms and legs around him, exploring his body with hers.
He kissed her, slow and deep, before drawing his lips down her body, taking his time as he licked and suckled the hollow between her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach. Every spot where he touched her caught fire until she was amazed she didn’t explode into a fiery ball that ignited everything it touched.
He pushed her legs apart and teased her nub with the very tip of his tongue. She screamed and made a grab for his head, forcing contact. He resisted, licking around her aching, throbbing clit. Around it. Up one side, down the other. A swirl across the tip.
She was panting, barely breathing, heart thumping so hard it was almost beating outside her body. In one fluid motion, he plunged two fingers inside her and fastened his mouth on her nub, sucking hard. The climax that had hovered, elusive, just out of reach, pounded through her.
Wave after wave of heat and sensation attacked her, crested, and then did it again. Somewhere in the midst of things, he shifted position, kneeling between her legs with his cock seated at the entrance to her vault. She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist, desperate for the hard length of him inside her.
His head was thrown back, neck corded with passion as he sank into her. She tightened herself around him, never wanting to let go. He felt incredible, filling her, plumbing her, loving her. Slowly, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip of him teased her nerve-rich entrance. And then he sank back inside.
Pinned beneath him, she writhed, wanting him to move goddammit, to fuck her hard and fast and forever. She loved looking at him, at the play of muscles moving beneath skin, at the flex of arm and legs and torso as he made love to her. When he moved his head forward and opened his eyes, they were filled with tenderness and hunger and love.
The floodgates within her that had cracked open earlier responded. She spread her arms, and he lowered himself atop her, holding her close. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and she tightened her legs around his back, rocking against him.
This time when he withdrew, he slid back inside sooner. His breath rasped, warm against her mouth, and he tasted sweet. Of futures and promises. She drenched them in magic, urging him to come, to consummate their spiritual union.
He drove into her, all restraint shattered. She rose and fell with him, straining for another release. Nothing gentle or civilized about their bodies crashing together. This was sex. Raw, primal, push-to-the-limits sex. The wave she was chasing thundered over her, and she shuddered around him. He ripped his mouth from hers, cried out, and his cock quivered with orgasm, shooting jets of semen into the deepest, most private part of her.
They clung to one another, grinding their bodies together until the spasms quieted. He smoothed hair away from her sweaty face and turned them onto their sides with his cock still buried in her body. “Thank ye, léannan. Darling.”
She breathed him in, content in the circle of his arms. “I don’t know who should be thanking whom, but that was unbelievably wonderful.” She moved back enough to trace the line of his cheekbone with her fingertips.
“The Druid joining ceremony…” Liliana hesitated, not sure how to couch what she wanted to ask.
“Is actually borrowed from the Celtic gods, and ’tis just as significant when we utter the words ourselves,” he replied, divining her question. “Like with your handfasting ceremony, ’tis a thing two people can do absent a third to officiate.”
A smile danced around her lips. “So we’re, um, married?”
“Not in the modern sense, where couples run for a divorce lawyer at the first sign of trouble. This is forever.”
The words they’d shared rolled through her mind.
Blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give you my body that we may be one. I give you my spirit till our life shall be done.
“If the vows protect Arlen and Kat, then they should do the same for us,” she ventured.
He nodded. “’Twas my hope, but not my main motivation.” He tucked her head into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “I don’t fully understand how these things come to be. Why I’ve spent hundreds of years alone, but the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. That you were the woman I’d spent my life waiting for.”
“Did you question the knowing?” Her words were muffled against his skin.
“Aye, lassie. But then I question everything.” He’d lapsed back into Gaelic. “The important thing is I dinna question it for long, nor did I pick it apart until naught was left.”
She chuckled. “Is this when we admit all our less than stellar traits? After the deed is done and we’re stuck with one another?”
A deep, rumbly laugh, rather like a merry grizzly bear, filled her ears. “Now that ye mention it, what deep, dark secrets do ye harbor?”
“You already know all of them. I was ambivalent about witchcraft, about magic. I can be rash and headstrong.” Her bantering tone dropped away. “And when I love, I love with a ferocity that knows no bounds. I would have done murder to keep my daughter safe from Rhea. Nothing has changed about that.”
“It may come to that.”
She scrunched her forehead into worried lines. “What do you mean? Rhea and her nefarious sisters are already dead. Killing them twice won’t change any
thing.”
“Dead is relative, lass.” He was back to English. “The more I’ve thought about this, the more unlikely we are to have the luxury of escorting a hissing, spitting, screeching Rhea to the Ninth Circle of Hell.”
“But I thought that was the whole purpose of tomorrow. I’m confused.”
“Tomorrow’s purpose is making certain Rhea isn’t bouncing in and out of Kat’s life—or yours—with unpleasant surprises. Like unsolicited trips to the past. If we behead her and burn her remains, it will be just as effective as sealing her behind the Ninth’s Circle’s gates.”
“Are you certain?”
“Nay, but it’s always prudent to have a backup plan. Rhea may heed Katerina’s call, but when she shows up, she won’t be alone. She’s old and canny and has no reason to trust any of you. You’ve stabbed her in the back enough times, she’ll be wary.”
Liliana closed her teeth over her lower lip. “What about those dragon things? Or the demon that was trying to batter its way into your castle?”
“If the question is whether she’ll rustle up monsters and have them ride shotgun, I’d give it even odds.”
“So we might face her, other Roskellys, and an array of Hell’s denizens.”
Sean nodded. “The other problem is Kat will initially be by herself. The rest of us will have to conceal our presence behind bombproof, invisible warding.”
Alarm bells tolled in Liliana’s mind. “But those take time to dismantle. If we have to move quickly—”
“Exactly. It might not be fast enough.”
“Crap. I’m not sure I want Kat to risk herself. Too many unknowns.”
“I don’t see any good options. You could try to get Rhea’s attention, but she’d see right through you. Same holds true in spades for that mother of yours. She’s got magic to burn, and an attitude to match.”
“You’ve got Mom’s number.” Liliana rolled her eyes. “She always was one tough broad, but her heart’s been in the right place.”
“Aye, and she’d move mountains to keep her family safe,” he agreed and threaded his fingers through her hair. “No matter what befalls us tomorrow, I’m ever so grateful for you. For your beauty. For your love. For throwing your lot in with a poor sod like me.”
“Poor sod, my ass. Aren’t you the mastermind who keeps your cheerful band of Druids rolling in sanitized cash?”
“Ha! My one useful trait.”
She tightened her body around his still-hard cock. “Oh, I can think of a few more that have nothing to do with spreadsheets.”
He furled one dark brow and repositioned their bodies so she was on top, straddling him. “There are many kinds of sheets in the world, mo léannan. Shall we take advantage of the ones that lie beneath us?”
Part of her wanted to get tomorrow nailed down until no more unknowns existed, but it wasn’t possible. He grasped her hips and rotated his cock, moving it from side to side.
An idea flirted with her but fled as soon as he took her breasts, one in each hand, rubbing her nipples to peaks. Desire rose, thick as clotted cream, wiping out everything but the man beneath her. Her heart, her life, the one she’d pledged herself to without hesitation or a backward thought.
She could chase the idea afterward. The one that had tantalized her with an elegantly simple solution, one that would keep Katerina, her Katerina, safe from harm.
Chapter 12
Sean bent to lace knee-high soft leather boots. He adjusted the tartan wrapped around him—an old-fashioned style that swathed his torso too—and checked the items he’d added to a sporran. The opals matched to his magic adorned his neck and hand; additional stones rattled together at the bottom of the sporran. Ever since he’d awakened with Liliana sleeping next to him, he’d been split between making certain everyone had what they needed for tonight’s confrontation and stopping to feast his gaze on her.
Everything she did intrigued him. He could have watched her forever and died content. Her movements were precise, graceful, with little wasted motion. A few moments ago, she’d braided her hair into many plaits and tied the lot of them together to keep everything out of her face.
“There you go again,” she said from where she was pulling on a long black skirt she’d found in his clothing trunks. Her cloak, clean and dry, was draped over a chair.
“There I go again, what?”
She smiled indulgently. “Whenever I look up, you’re watching me.”
“I like looking at you, lass.”
She buttoned the skirt into place and shook her head. “It runs deeper than that.”
“Aye, that it does. I’m still marveling at having a mate after all these years.”
“Any regrets?” It was her turn to rake him with her sharp, green eyes.
“Not a one. Yesterday was intense, but I’d make the same choices today. Or tomorrow.”
Her smile widened. “Tell me again why you’re dressed in ceremonial garb? I’m not complaining.” She continued to regard him. “I don’t know what it is about kilts, but they have more character than pants.”
“’Tisn’t just me. All of us selected clothing that won’t stick out like a bloody enemy flag—just in case we end up at the wrong end of Rhea’s vortex. In our case, the kilts don’t signify clan affiliations. Scottish Druids never rolled that way, but those who’ve lived long enough all own tartans of one design or another.”
Liliana pursed her mouth into an unreadable line and walked until she stood facing him. “I have an idea. It may not work, but it’s been banging about in my head since we got up.”
Her tone—deadly serious and edged with uncertainty—alerted him he might not like what she had to say. He stopped fiddling with the sporran. “Let’s hear it.”
“All right.” She pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger before looking squarely at him. “Something you said last night about having to shield ourselves, so Rhea and whoever she carts along with her won’t know Kat’s not alone, got me thinking.”
Sean nodded encouragement. He remembered that part of their conversation quite clearly. It had occurred just before the second time they made love.
“Kat and I have a similar feel, energy-wise. I suspect it comes of both of us having human fathers.”
Sean narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling what she’d say next, and she didn’t disappoint him.
“I’m a little unclear on the magic that could finesse this, but what if I used a glamour? Made myself look like Katerina? I wouldn’t be all that close to Rhea, and maybe—”
“Ye’re joking.”
“Nay, I’m not,” she replied aping his Gaelic before continuing in English. “It’s not all that farfetched. When I was much younger, many of the witches at gatherings wore glamours. No one wanted to be identified in ‘real life’ for what they were.” She winced. “What I thought was they didn’t trust Mom or me, being Roskellys and all. None of the others had our Black Magic blood.”
He took a deep, steadying breath. He’d assumed Liliana would be by his side the whole time they were in Fort William.
By his side.
Not masquerading as a stand-in for her daughter.
“Have you discussed this with your familiar? Or anyone, for that matter?”
She shook her head. “Thought I’d start with you. So far, you haven’t given me any solid reasons why it won’t work.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Rhea Roskelly is your kinswoman. She’s linked to you by blood, and she’s known you all your life. The same holds true for Katerina. Do you honestly believe she won’t notice right away that you’ve tricked her—or tried to?”
Liliana squared her shoulders. “Define right away.”
“Och aye, lass. Perhaps in the first ten seconds. Thirty if she’s a wee bit slow on the uptake.” That he’d reverted to Gaelic told him he was upset. His first tongue was always his fallback when he didn’t want to waste energy finding just the right nuance in English.
“I figured I might have a few minut
es.”
He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “Hear me out before you tell me I’m full of shit. Rhea is dead. It confers some advantages, but one of the big disadvantages is she can’t think as clearly, probably because she’s lost a number of brain cells to decomposition. She’ll just have traveled through time, a disorienting process if my experience is any bellwether.
“Between those two, I thought I might fool her. Particularly if I start talking the second she stops shimmering between worlds. And if Kat and I trade familiars—”
“Is such a thing even possible?”
“I don’t know. I was going to ask the owl—or Mother.” She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. “If I showed up with the eagle, it would throw Rhea off balance. She’d recognize my owl in a heartbeat, but she’ll not have laid eyes on Kat’s brand new familiar.”
“Does she have a familiar of her own?” Sean asked.
“No. The animals are decent. They’d never link to anyone wielding dark power.”
Sean huffed out a tense breath. When he looked for holes, weak places in her strategy, he couldn’t find obvious ones. Anyone who served as their sacrificial sheep would be putting themselves at huge risk.
She nailed him with her direct gaze. “My plan isn’t as bad as all that, is it?”
“Not if you can swap familiars,” he agreed grudgingly. Making a fist, he punched the air. “Damn it, Liliana. I’d rather not do this at all. Take our chances Rhea won’t bother us as much as she has been.”
“Do you honestly believe she’ll let us be?” She knitted her dark brows together. “Christ, Sean. She hates Druids the same way she hates anything that smacks of clean magic. Arlen’s link with Kat has to have infuriated her, particularly since she wanted Kat for herself. She didn’t know about you and me until she saw us together yesterday. I’m certain she’s put two and two together by now.”
Liliana stopped to take a breath. “I know that old woman. She’s intransigent, and she won’t stop until she’s exacted the revenge she’s certain she deserves. Retribution for breaking the long and illustrious line of Roskelly witches.”
