“Whatever. You didn’t tell me, Culhane. You went out with the warriors and didn’t even bother to run it past your Queen.”
“My Queen hasn’t seen fit to rule yet,” he told her, and when she would have stepped back, he moved toward her, closing the distance separating them, and Maggie could almost feel frustration ebbing from him in a thick wave.
“And these Dulla-things were so dangerous, you couldn’t wait to talk to me first?”
“No.”
He looked like a statue of an avenging angel. He didn’t move. His features were tight and stiff and unrepentant. If she was waiting for him to apologize for doing what he thought necessary, Maggie knew she’d be waiting forever. “Fine. Just what the hell are they?”
“Rogue Fae.” He sneered. “The darkest kind.”
Maggie took a shallow breath and felt a chill as Culhane went on.
“They were quiet enough under Mab’s reign because as mad as she was, they’d no wish to challenge her,” he told her.
“There’s a but coming, Culhane,” she said, taking a breath to brace herself. “So just spit it out and get it over with.”
“But, they don’t fear a half-Fae Queen who spends so little time on the throne.”
Guilt. That nasty, ugly, impossible-to-ignore feeling rose up in her chest again and fisted tight around her lungs. She took a shallow breath and forced herself to ask, “What would have happened if they had gone into my world?”
“Destruction.”
One word, but said with such a deep bitterness, Maggie felt the absoluteness in his tone. She knew then without a doubt that Culhane had done the right thing. It was her own fault that her warriors made decisions without coming to her. Her own fault that she didn’t feel as if she had a place in this castle or in this world. She’d neglected a duty she hadn’t wanted to assume and she was just now beginning to realize how dangerous that decision had been.
“Allowing their rebellion to escalate was risking the greatest dangers,” he said quietly. “My Queen wasn’t here when the uprising began. We couldn’t wait.”
“I’m here now,” she said, lifting her chin and facing him with as much pride as a former wiener-dog could muster. She was through hiding. She was finished pretending that this world wasn’t as much hers as the human world.
Maggie might be a reluctant queen, but she was Queen, and it was high time she accepted it. She’d take her place on the throne and dare Mab to pry her off it. She’d listen to her warriors and make the best decisions she could. She’d stand up for the female warriors and make sure the male Fae weren’t treated like second-class citizens anymore. She’d be the damn George Washington of Otherworld if she had to be and by damn, she was going to have Culhane. Over her. Under her.
However she could get him.
Right now.
“I am the Queen, Culhane,” she said thoughtfully, drawing her words out, making sure he listened not only to what she was saying, but to the feeling behind the words as well. “Your Queen. I’m ready to do what I have to do. To learn what I need to learn. But I’m going to need you.”
She walked toward him and saw the flash of something dark and dangerous in his eyes. A jolt of heat shot through her like a lightning bolt, leaving sizzling and burning sensations in its wake. Her knees shook and her insides went warm and gooey. She knew what she wanted now.
Culhane might have his faults, but he’d been there when she needed him. And would be there again. She knew it. And she was willing to take the risk of caring for him.
“So,” he said warily, “you will listen to me? As your adviser?”
“I will,” she told him, coming even closer. God. She could feel the heat of his body snaking out for her. Everything in her trembled. “But you’ll have to listen to me, too, Culhane,” she warned, wanting to make sure he understood going in that she expected a full partnership here. “No more secret wars. From now on, you tell me what’s going on, even if I won’t like it—no, especially if I won’t like it.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up. “I will.”
“And,” Maggie added as heat pooled in her middle and drifted lower, deeper, “we’re going to have to do something about this palace, too. If I’m going to be spending lots of time here, I want a few comfortable things, you know?”
He reached out quickly, and pulled her close; she gasped as the hard, solid length of him pressed into her abdomen. Maggie’s eyes slid half shut and she took in a slow, deep breath even as she wiggled closer to him, wanting, needing what only he could provide for her.
He dropped one hand to the curve of her behind, stroking her until she wanted to purr. Maggie’s breasts ached for his touch, her nipples were hard and sensitive and she wanted to rub her body against his just to ease that ache.
“Comfortable things?” he whispered, dipping his head to nibble at her throat.
“Right. Yes.” She sighed and shifted into his touch. “Um. You know. Soft chairs. Maybe a”—she sucked in air—“bed.”
“Your wish,” he murmured, and waved one hand idly in the air; then, still keeping her pressed tightly to him, he turned her slightly to show her what he’d done.
“Oh . . . my . . . goodness.”
The bed was massive.
Four heavy posts, one at each corner, the bed itself was big enough to sleep six people. Several down mattresses were stacked atop one another, making it high enough that she’d need a ladder to climb aboard. There were a dozen or more pillows stacked against the intricately carved headboard and luxurious quilts in all the colors of the rainbow spilled from the bed to lie across the sparkling white floor.
“Do you approve?” he whispered, this time nibbling at her earlobe.
“I . . . um . . . well . . . it looks, yes . . .”
“Good. I have waited long enough to taste you, Maggie Donovan, Queen of the Fae. This night, I will explore your body and learn its every secret.” He waved his hand again and the wide double doors behind them slammed closed and locked.
Maggie sucked in another breath and tossed a glance at the open windows, through which a starry sky stretched out toward eternity. “What about . . .”
“The window arches are warded. No one gets into the Queen’s throne room uninvited.”
Good to know. “But anyone flying by, and I can’t believe I’m saying ‘flying by,’ could look in and—”
“No. The wards protect those within from being seen. We are alone, Maggie. You and I.”
“We are, aren’t we?” She looked up at him again and licked her bottom lip.
“Will you run?” he asked, studying her, waiting to see acceptance in her eyes. “Will you change your mind now? Turn aside from what burns between us? Or will you accept this new life? And me?”
Maggie reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his pale green eyes as emotions, so varied and rich she couldn’t identify them all, flashed across their surfaces. His mouth was tight, his body hard and he held perfectly still as he waited for her to make her final decision.
Still watching his eyes, Maggie slid her fingers through his hair and said, “I just accepted it, Culhane. This life. And you.” Then, tired of talking, of reasoning, of thinking, she put an end to the conversation the surest way she knew how.
She kissed him. Slanting her mouth over his, Maggie poured everything she was into the act. Her lips parted, her tongue slid into his mouth and instantly, her entire body lit up like a giant Christmas tree. She sparkled; she shone, inside and out. She felt the magic pooling between them and gave herself up to it completely.
Culhane groaned in response, tightened his arms around her middle and held her so she could hardly breathe. But then, she thought wildly, who needed air? His tongue delved into her mouth, dueling with hers in an ancient dance of want and need. His grip on her relaxed only enough to allow him to stroke his hands up and down her spine, along her sides, to her breasts.
He cupped them both, sliding his hands between their bodies and eve
n through the fabric of her T-shirt and the pink lace bra she’d donned that morning (thank God she’d worn pretty underwear). She felt the power in his touch, the dazzling sensations that spread from his skin to hers. The heat welling between them until it was nearly an inferno.
Then he shifted his grip on her again, sliding his hands up, along her throat to cup her face, thread his fingers through her hair and hold her head steady for his tender assault. His kiss deepened further, his hunger grew and fed her own. Maggie felt the desperation in his touch and shared it.
This is what she’d needed for so long. From the moment she’d met him. Maybe even since before that. She felt as though she’d been waiting for this night for an eternity. Through countless lives. Through endless days and innumerable nights. All of her dreams, her desires, had led her here. To him.
“Culhane,” she said brokenly as he tore his mouth from hers to slide his tongue along the curve of her throat. She tipped her head to one side, allowing him access, allowing him anything he wanted so long as he never stopped touching her. “I need you. I need you to touch me.”
“I will and I am,” he promised, his hot breath dusting her skin.
He held her firmly and she felt her molecules dissolve, dissipate, blend with his, become part of him, indistinct from the basic atoms that made up the mighty Culhane. And then in an instant, they were separate beings again and lying on the wide bed he’d created just for her. Just for this night.
The soft mattresses beneath them enfolded their bodies in a warm embrace. The silk of the coverlets was a cool kiss on her heated skin and all Maggie could think was that she wished she were naked.
Her clothes were gone an instant later. “Whoa!”
Culhane grinned at her, snapped his fingers and his clothing, too, was nothing more than a memory. His broad, tanned, muscular chest was sculpted and beautiful. His abdomen was flat and ridged with muscle and his . . .
“Wow.” Maggie’s eyes widened. She wasn’t an inexperienced virgin or anything, but she’d never seen a man built like Culhane.
The hard, solid length of his erection was enormous and just a little worrisome.
“Culhane . . . you know I want you, but . . .”
“We are matched, Maggie,” he assured her, taking her hand and guiding it down so that her fingers could encircle him. He pulled in a sharp, short breath and hissed it out at the glory of having her hand on him; then he stared into her eyes and said, “We are meant to be together. Our bodies are interlocking pieces destined to fit tightly and bind us together.”
She ran her fingers over the silken steel of him and knew that she believed him. At that moment, she knew that she’d been born just for this. To be the one woman in the world who was the perfect fit for Culhane.
“Show me,” she whispered, and slid her hands up his abdomen and across that beautiful chest of his. She loved the way he jolted at her touch and how his silvery green eyes darkened with hunger. His heartbeat pounded frantically beneath her hands and she knew he felt everything she was. Knew this moment was as monumental for him as it was for her.
He dipped his head and took first one of her nipples and then the other into his mouth. His silky hair spilling across her skin felt like the softest caress. She arched off the bed, moving into him, offering herself up to his ministrations. His tongue and teeth toyed with her sensitive skin and she groaned out his name as she held him to her.
Maggie lifted her head from the bed and watched as he suckled her. Culhane, the fierce and proud warrior, took her as tenderly as any woman could wish, yet at the same time, he caused a burning deep inside her.
He’d told her once that Fae sex for a human was so overwhelming, women had been known to faint from the experience. But Maggie wouldn’t faint. She didn’t want to miss a minute of it.
“You are everything I’d hoped,” he said softly, his mouth still adoring her, tasting her. “And so much more . . .”
He swept one hand down the length of her body and cupped her heat in his palm. Maggie jolted in his grasp, lifting her hips, trying to move into his touch, to fill the aching emptiness inside her.
Culhane smiled and lifted his head to watch her eyes as he pushed first one finger, then two into her depths. She hissed in a breath and tipped her head back into the blankets beneath her.
A warm breeze sighed through the room, carrying the scents of the garden below and the distant sea. Maggie moaned as he rubbed his thumb across the most sensitive part of her and he smiled as he watched her rush toward the peak of pleasure.
She trembled, she shook, she moaned and then cried out when he took his hand from her before she could find release.
“Bastard,” she whispered, tossing her head from side to side even as she grabbed at his shoulders, his hair. Her hips lifted and rocked, her legs opened wider as she silently demanded that which he had promised her. “Culhane, be inside me. Don’t wait. I need you. Now.”
“As I need you, Maggie. As I have needed you through millennia.”
She opened her eyes and stared up at him as he moved to position himself between her thighs. Her dark blue gaze shone with the same need that held him in its tight grasp. He felt the heat building between them and knew that once he was within her, the fire would consume them both. And he hungered for it. A true mating. A merging of souls and bodies and minds and hearts.
“Once joined with you, we will never be truly separate again,” he told her, lifting her legs, spreading them, looking his fill of her most honeyed flesh. He trailed the tip of one finger across her swollen folds and she jerked at his touch, her body so ready for release, the slightest touch would push her over the edge into oblivion. But for that, he wanted to be within her. To stroke her from the inside, to feel the tremors and quakes as her body splintered. To know that it was he and only he who would be joined with her in such a way.
“I understand.” She shivered and lifted her hips in welcome.
“With this mating, I claim you.” He said the words, even knowing she wouldn’t understand their depth. He’d said the words only once before but had never meant them so deeply. Never needed to say them so much.
“Culhane . . .” She reached for him, but he caught her hands in one of his and held her wrists together.
“You are mine, Maggie Donovan,” he told her as he slid his cock into her heat. Inch by glorious inch, he claimed her as he had known all along he would. “As I am yours. This is destiny, Maggie. Our destiny.”
So tight, he thought, loving the slide of her heat against him. No more than halfway inside her, he paused and called on all of his strength of will to hold perfectly still and allow her body to become used to his presence. He was beyond need. Beyond desire. Maggie was his air. His life. She was all.
“Culhane!” She arched and moved into him. “Don’t stop.”
“We must go slowly,” he told her, unwilling to hurt her now, when they were just beginning.
“No,” she told him, looking into his eyes. “I need you now, Culhane. Fast and hard. I need to feel you need me. Next time, we can go slow.”
Next time. She had already accepted there would be a next time. And a next. And one after that. The ragged edges of his self-control, his legendary patience snapped completely. He released her wrists, lifted her legs higher and drove himself into her, over and over again. Hard, demanding, and as he had wanted to from the beginning, with possession. She was his. And only his.
He would never let her go.
The inferno engulfed them as he’d known it would. Her eyes sparkled with the shine of a thousand suns and when she cried out his name and her body shuddered and shook around his, Culhane gave himself up to the inevitable and emptied himself inside her.
“I’m not going to Otherworld,” Nora said for the twentieth time in the last fifteen minutes.
“You have no choice now,” Quinn told her. “You heard Eileen and Finn. Mab has escaped.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Eileen put in.
“We know th
at, baby,” Nora said softly. She knew her daughter was suffering pangs of guilt and worry and no doubt, a heavy dose of fear. Nora was right there with her. But it had been an accident and at least now, they could all stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mab had escaped as they’d all feared she would one day and now they would just have to find a way to deal with it. But she wasn’t about to go along with Quinn’s idea to run to the Warriors’ Conclave.
Quinn kept talking. “Mab is in Otherworld now, no doubt plotting Maggie’s destruction. Think you she wouldn’t use you or Eileen to make that happen?”
Nora quailed a little at the thought, but a moment later, she stiffened her spine, swallowed her fear and looked her Fae lover directly in the eye. “If Mab’s in Otherworld, doesn’t it make more sense for us to stay here?”
Quinn Terhune was a warrior. For centuries he’d fought the battles of the Fae. He was stalwart, proud and fearless. Yet, when faced with this one, stubborn, part-Fae woman, he was helpless. Irritation spiked through him. He knew very well that the safest place for his woman was at his home in the Warriors’ Conclave.
No one, not even Mab herself, could breach those walls. His mate, his coming child and the child of his heart, Eileen, would be safe there.
He didn’t want to force his will on a woman, but by the gods, he would if given no other choice. Even if that meant facing Nora’s fury. Better she be alive to rage than dead and gone from him forever.
“If it starts looking bad,” Nora said in an effort to placate him, “we’ll talk about it again. But for now, we’re not going anywhere.”
“You are the most confounding female I have ever known,” Quinn told her.
She grinned at him. “What a sweet thing to say.”
Bezel made kissing noises from his perch at the kitchen table.
“Be silent, pixie,” Quinn warned.
“Don’t pick on Bezel,” Nora said, measuring out a cup of white sugar. “And now that we’re finished talking about Mab, I want to talk about our son again.”
Beguiled Page 12
