by Alexa Aston
“If it is wrong to need this, then I am wrong, as well, Brianna. Because right now, I need you more than I need air.” His low voice rumbled in her ear as his hot breath brushed across her cheek. Gooseflesh prickled her entire body as his words resonated deep within some buried place in her heart. She may have been in love with two men, but Robert was here now, and she needed to feel alive again, to feel cherished again.
“Make love to me, Robert.” The words formed on her lips instinctively, before she could truly think about the consequences they could bring. The low moan he released as his gaze skimmed over her body gave her chills. He had a raw masculinity that had always called to her feminine side. He made her feel so delicate.
Shaky hands reached out to grab the fabric of his tunic. Pulling up, she watched as his chest slowly came into view, every ripple of hard muscle that she had seen from a distance a hundred times, but never yet had the chance to touch. A smattering of dark hair covered his chest, a small trail leading lower down and disappearing beneath his trousers. Her fingers grazed his skin, feeling the rough hair against her palms. Robert’s chest rose and fell rapidly as her hands wandered lower.
She could not fathom what had come over her to make her suddenly so bold, but she had waited what felt like a frustrating lifetime to touch this man and now that she had started, the need to gaze upon all of him was stronger than her own will. With a swift tug on the string of his trousers, the fabric went slack around his waist.
Brianna was obviously no innocent, but the thought of finally seeing that one part of Robert made her heart beat so hard that she could hardly breathe. Her eyes moved back up his chest and locked with his eyes, his lids lowered with lust. Before she could make another move, Robert had her on her back, his weight pinning her down.
“I want you so bad, Brianna,” he whispered into her ear before nipping her lobe. His hips pushed against hers and she could feel his rigid length, the scent of his skin filling her senses. One of his strong hands slowly grazed up her leg, gathering her nightdress in his fist as he made his way higher. “You drive me mad.”
To prove his point, he roughly yanked the rest of her gown over her head, baring her to his hungry gaze. Covering her stomach self-consciously, she flushed with embarrassment. He would see all the marks Wee Ferghus had left on her stomach and be disgusted by her. Swallowing hard and closing her eyes, she awaited the moment he would retreat, losing all his will to bed her.
Instead, she felt his hot kisses trailing down her throat, his tongue flicking out just as he reached her engorged breast and latched on, suckling like a babe. She moaned lowly at the feel of him drinking her in. It was the most intimate moment of her life, and watching Robert take possession of her body felt more like a dream than reality.
His hands caressed between her legs at the same time, and the combination of the two sensations had her arching her back and biting her lower lip to stifle her pleasure. His mouth released one breast and worked on the other, once again tasting her as his lips tugged on her sensitive nipples. When his finger circled that one spot between her thighs, she tensed and shuddered, feeling her head spin with a release so violent she thought she might explode. “Robert!” she whispered as his mouth detached from her breast.
A wide, satisfied grin spread across his lips as he yanked his trousers down, kicking them to the floor. “You have no idea how badly I have wanted to taste you there… or here…”
He was fully naked now and her eyes widened at the sight of his large column of flesh standing straight out, waiting to find its mark. Gods, right or wrong, she needed him so bad she ached. But just when she thought he would slip himself inside her, he lowered his head, placing his hands on her knees to spread her wide.
“Robert…” She felt embarrassed but had no time to protest further before his tongue slipped out and caressed her sensitive lower flesh. “Oh, gods!” she wailed, her hips arching off the bed, seeking more of his wondrous mouth.
He made a low rumbling sound in his throat as he placed soft, teasing kisses between her thighs, so tender and passionate, like he was savoring every moment. She yanked his hair, writhing as her body hung on the edge of some invisible cliff, wanting to fall until her body melted into his.
His head came up and her eyes grew wide as he licked his lips. “Gods, woman. I need you, now,” he growled, wasting no time. Where his mouth had been tender, his manhood gave no mercy. He slammed into her, sliding in with ease as she cried out from the sudden fulfillment she had sought for so long. His body moved over hers and every muscle gleamed in the firelight, making him appear more god than man.
Her nails dug into his biceps as her heels pushed on his backside, urging him to go harder. She needed this just as much, if not more than Robert did. She had felt so lonely and needed this physical contact with another person. Not just any person but the man she had idolized her entire life. His rhythm grew frantic, and she felt herself drifting higher and higher off the bed as her body arched and sought completion. The fire sparked in the background and their panting breaths filled the silence.
She knew when Robert was nearing his release because his body tensed and his hips ground into hers, almost painfully, but she could not make herself care. She wanted to be sore. She wanted to feel the proof of his touch on her for as long as possible. She did not know what this was between them nor what it meant for their future. All she knew was at that moment, she no longer felt alone.
With a grunt, his lips came down on hers as he spilled himself deep within her. It was as if he was breathing a piece of her soul into his body and she suddenly wondered if he had just left a piece of his buried deep within her womb. That thought made reality come crashing down on her. Her limbs shook and a sheen of sweat covered their slick bodies. Now that she had made love to Robert for the first time, a terror came over her that she could have never expected. How was she ever to live without him? And yet, she was not ready to move on. She still mourned Ferghus. Her muddled emotions churned in her brain until she could no longer think straight.
“I love you, Brianna.”
“What?” Her gaze snapped to his as her reeling mind tried to absorb his words. Ferghus would be heartbroken if he knew what they had just done. How could she feel such awful guilt?
“I love you. I always have.” Robert pulled her body into a sitting position, dragging her onto his lap. The position felt so intimate, even more so than the act they had just completed. Her bare backside nestled atop his legs as his arms wrapped around her waist. “I want to marry you. Tomorrow at the Samhain festival, we can be wed.”
“What?” Scrambling off his lap, she searched the ground for her nightdress. “Nay. ’Tis not right. I cannot think of that. This… this was wrong. I should not have done this.” Panic was filling her mind, making her body quake as she struggled to dress. Dear gods. She had just allowed her husband’s brother to suckle milk from her breasts and to kiss her most private parts. What was the matter with her? She had been thinking thoughts of love and marriage but now that Robert said the words, she felt as if they were disgracing Ferghus’s memory.
“Nothing about this is wrong, Bri. ’Tis what Ferghus wanted.”
“I just… I cannot believe that,” she wailed. “Perhaps he was delusional and now we are taking a dying man’s words and using them to fulfill our base urges! What have we done?”
Robert’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “Before he died, he made me vow to marry you. He knew we loved one another and wanted us to be happy.”
Oh gods, nay. Her husband knew she secretly loved his brother? What sort of a horrid woman was she? And how had he figured it out when she went to great pains to hide her feelings? “You were right, Robert. I really am a faithless whore.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she slid to the floor and began to cry, feeling like the worst woman who had ever lived.
“You do not understand, Bri. I told him I could not, would not marry you, but he insisted.”
She snorted and wiped a tear a
way from her cheek. “So, you admit it, then. You do not wish to marry me. You only do so to honor some twisted vow my husband forced upon you?” Getting up on her feet, she shoved Robert with all her might. “I will not be your obligation, Robert! And how can I marry my brother? ’Tis so wrong!”
Gripping her shoulders hard in his hands, he gave her a slight shake. Her dark hair stuck to the wetness of her cheeks. “You misunderstand, Brianna. Listen to me!” he said as loud as he dared without risking waking the babe.
“Nay!” she shrugged out of his grip. “I am sorry. I begged you to bed me. ’Tis my fault. I understand you are a man and will take whatever a woman offers. I should not have done that. But I will not allow you to marry me out of some form of misguided honor.” Turning her back, she felt shame wash over her for her betrayal of Ferghus. Even though Abigael had said Ferghus wanted her to find happiness with his brother, she could not believe he would really wish such a thing. Had Ferghus truly known how she felt about Robert? The thought made her want to curl into a ball and sob until her eyes bled. She was a rotten woman.
“I need you to get dressed. Then, get out.”
She did not turn to look at Robert. She could not, her shame was so deep. He did not speak, and she almost wondered if he was still standing naked behind her, but she heard the wisp of his garments and knew he was dressing. Would he even try to stay to convince her? A part of her wanted Robert to insist upon staying, to insist that his love for her was true and that he wanted to wed with her because he wanted a life with her. Any man can bed a woman. That was lust, not love, and suddenly his whispered confession of love felt fabricated to fulfill his promise to Ferghus. It tore at her insides to know he would marry her out of duty, but she could not allow that.
But no attempt to change her mind was forthcoming. He dressed in silence, stepped around her only to grab his sword from against the wall, and without looking back, the Lone Wolf stepped out of her home and most likely out of her life, forever.
Chapter Eleven
Despite his hatred for his new name, he truly was the Lone Wolf now. He had lost his brother and the love of his life. He could not bear to return home to his parents. They would ask questions he did not wish to answer. Instead, he sought out the only man he could truly trust in their tuath.
When he arrived at their king’s home the night before, Garreth had been wise enough to note the haggard look on Robert’s face and stepped aside without asking questions. He stayed in one of their spare chambers for the night, but he had gotten no sleep. His heart ached in a way he had never known it could. Finally, after all this time, he had made love to Brianna and then confessed his true feelings to her. He was a fool for so bluntly offering her marriage. She had just lost Ferghus and the love for his brother that she still clearly bore was burning a hole in his heart. He was envious of a man who no longer lived.
Because of his need to always be honorable, he had rolled over and allowed his brother to have his woman, then watched as that woman birthed Ferghus’s child. Mayhap he should feel guilty for coupling with Brianna, but he could not. Ferghus knew what he was saying when he told Robert to be with her. He knew Robert loved her, and Ferghus wanted them to be happy. Ferghus understood that his desire for Robert to marry Brianna meant they would share a bed. Yet, he had approached this all wrong. He should have pleaded with her to accept his love, to believe he wanted her for her, not because of a promise to his brother.
But, she was going through her grieving process. Brianna had been lonely, and he had fulfilled her needs, but that left her feeling shameful. Robert knew she loved him, but what good was that love if she could not move past her feelings of guilt?
As morning approached, the king’s household grew loud and bustling as servants prepared for the Samhain feast later that night. The thought of attending now, after being turned down by Brianna, made him feel hollow. He knew she did not wish to see him. Perhaps he needed to leave the village for a while.
The small hut in the woods where he, Ferghus, and Brianna used to go as children would be the perfect place for him to live. He could not have them back, but he would have their memories. Nobody could take that away from him. He truly had become the Lone Wolf. The realization stung, but he closed his heart to the pain.
That thought spurred him on as he prepared for the day. The village would be busy preparing for the feast. Nobody would notice that he had left. Without Ferghus or Brianna, he had no reason to stay within the walls. Aye, he loved his family, but he would still visit often, and Ginny would likely marry soon. Seeing Brianna and Wee Ferghus would be too much.
The smell of meat roasting inside houses wafted on the cold breeze as smoke billowed out of the tall pointy thatched roofs. Robert’s stomach growled as the savory smells enveloped him, but he had to continue. Laughter drifted from the gathering hall and he was certain all his warrior companions were already deep in their cups, preparing to enjoy the festivities. Samhain was the festival to celebrate the recently deceased and help them cross the veil to the otherworld. A druid would be present to oversee the ceremonies. His brother would be one of the honored dead. He felt like a bastard for missing the ceremony, but he had already said his farewells to Ferghus, and the thought of seeing Brianna cry as she clutched her child and mourned her husband was too much for his shattered heart to bear.
He never considered himself a coward, but the real fear of spending his life around Brianna without ever having her, especially after making love to her, was more than he could stand. He also never considered himself a quitter, but a man had to know when he was in over his head. Brianna had been disgusted by the thought of marrying him. It was clear now, after the haze of lust had passed, that she simply sought physical comfort and he had been conveniently located to provide it. It had meant the world to him and he would cherish the memory forever, but to her, it was simply pleasures of the flesh and mayhap a way to bury her loneliness. Robert would choose loneliness over heartache.
Dusk fell over the land, casting purple and coral streaks across the majestic sky, lighting up the clouds with the light of the setting sun. It was a beautiful sight, but not beautiful enough to replace Brianna’s face in his mind. He would simply have to let his memory of her sustain him. He would see her on occasion, of course, as he was still in his king’s service. But being away from the village was the best thing for him now. He would miss Wee Ferghus but vowed to watch and protect the lad as he grew. He may not be able to fulfill his vow to marry Brianna, but he would protect them from a distance.
The festival was well on its way and it was safe to assume Brianna had vacated her home by now. She would never miss Ferghus’s ceremony. He was an arse to miss it, but Ferghus would understand. For now, he needed to collect his belongings while he was certain she was away. Once he had everything, he would seek his solace in the quiet woods surrounding Coraindt.
The smoke from the many fires surrounding the festival was thick and felt like a stone sitting on Brianna’s chest. Or perhaps that was her heart shattering into pieces. She had been unfair to Robert, but her grief constantly sent her emotions into a spiral and she still stood by her convictions. She would not marry Robert simply to help him keep his honor. Had he even attempted to convince her that his offer of marriage was genuine, mayhap she would have accepted or at least considered it. But he had admitted to denying Ferghus’s request in the beginning. Still, her heart ached for the way they had left things. The memory of the night before lingered, as did the soreness between her legs.
And curse her woman’s body because she longed for more of his touch, but she had made her choice, even if regret now filled her.
Stepping away from the smoke, she stayed back as the druid performed the ritual to help the souls of the lost cross the veil. Was Ferghus’s soul still here now or had he already passed on? The fires lit around the village were meant to serve as beacons, guiding the souls toward the Otherworld. Her eyes scanned the crowd and her heart dropped more and more as she realized Robert
was not amongst the people. Where could he have gone?
Wee Ferghus squirmed and she shifted him in her arms, turning her child away from the billowing smoke. Darragh, Ginny, and Agatha were in the crowd and Brianna longed to approach them and ask if they had seen Robert, but they were mourning their other son and murmuring the prayers for the dead along with the druid. She could not interrupt such a solemn moment to ask about Robert. And why was she thinking of Robert when she should be reciting the prayers for Ferghus, herself?
“The veil grows thin at the time of the dead, as we honor our long-lost ancestors, in whose footsteps we tread,” the druid recited and Brianna tried to focus, murmuring along with him. But her mind would not stay with the prayer. She kept thinking of Robert and Ferghus. What would Ferghus say to her if he was here? He would likely weep from her betrayal. A chill ran up her spine and a sob escaped her throat. She was a wicked, weak woman. Mayhap she could forgive herself for seeking pleasure with Robert, but it was her burning, painful, unending love for the man that made her heart quake with repentance.
“I am so sorry, Ferghus,” she whispered as she watched the smoke billow from the large fire before her and drift up to the sky. “I am the worse sort of woman and I have betrayed you with love for another. How you must hate me.” Tears tracked down her cheeks, running down the column of her neck.
In her despair, she was not certain when the ceremony ended, but suddenly Keegan stood beside her, causing her to gasp at his unsightly appearance. He had twin black eyes from his fight with Robert the night before and his blond hair was a mess. One finger came up to wipe her tears away and she was surprised to see remorse in his gaze. “Do not weep, Bri,” Keegan said with a sad smile. “All will be well.”
