“I must make arrangements to speak with the Chieftains in the morning.” Keir released her hand when they reached the village and guided her by his hand at the small of her back. “You will wait for me at the tavern.”
Rhiannon shot him a look, and he sighed. “Please.”
“That’s better,” she said.
When they walked into the village it was like stepping back in time. Street vendors, pubs, cobblestone streets, and people dressed as if they were from some point in the Middle Ages. There was laughter and chatting, and horses made clip-clop noises as their hooves struck the stone street.
Men and women wearing much the same garb as Keir greeted him with nods or slaps on the back, or the hand-to-elbow grip handshake.
Each time Keir introduced her, the men and women D’Danann gave her curious looks. Some narrowed their eyes and she wondered if they could sense she was part Elvin. Others had teasing glints in their gazes when looking at Keir. All were more than polite.
Rhiannon breathed a deep sigh of relief when she was finally seated in the corner of the pub and Keir left her when he was certain she was okay.
Smells of malt, roasted meat, and fresh-baked bread mingled with the sweat of men and women in the pub’s close quarters.
She looked around in curiosity and received curious stares in return. She liked to stand out, and boy was she standing out—as a stranger and wearing bright pink.
Maybe too far out?
While Keir was gone, she took the time to enjoy the freedom from Ceithlenn in her mind. She felt so liberated and at ease right now. She hoped she’d severed the connection for good by crossing over.
Eventually the trials of the past few days caught up with her and she was exhausted. At least headache-free exhausted.
When Keir returned he told her the meeting was set then ordered two ales, roast chicken, potatoes, cheese, and bread.
Witches didn’t normally drink alcohol because it slowed their reflexes, but right now she didn’t care. She was thirsty, tired, overwhelmed, not to mention worried about the upcoming council meeting and what might be happening at this very moment back in San Francisco.
When their food arrived, Rhiannon was surprised that it was served in a long, wooden, curved platter that Keir called a trencher.
The food was delicious, practically orgasmic. The ale was a different taste for her, but she got used to it. Keir drank about five pints in the time it took her to drink two.
While they ate they said few words to each other. It was so noisy in the pub that her ears rang from it. After Keir paid their tab, Rhiannon stood—and promptly sat back down. Her head spun and she had to hold onto the table to keep from toppling over.
“I think I might have had a little too much to drink,” she said, but her words were lost in the pub’s raucous noise.
Keir helped her to her feet and caught her to him when she swayed. He grabbed both their travel bags and kept his arm tight around Rhiannon’s shoulders as they worked their way out of the pub.
When they left, it was dark outside. Rhiannon’s eardrums had been battered so much by the noise she felt like they were crammed with wax.
She breathed in the clean air and glanced up at the stars. Mistake. They swirled and she would have dropped if Keir didn’t have such a tight grip on her shoulders.
“What is wrong?” Keir held her up as they walked down the cobblestone street.
She hiccuped. “I—I’ve never had ale before.”
Keir chuckled. He actually laughed. It was dark save for a sliver of moonlight, but when she looked up the corner of his mouth was quirked into the semblance of a smile.
What is the world coming to? Uh, Otherworld. Yeah, that’s it.
“Come,” he said in a gentle tone. “We will go where you can sit or lie down.”
With Rhiannon’s head on his shoulder, they walked through the woods until they came to a cabin. Keir opened the door and Rhiannon saw a basic but spacious home with chunky wood furniture, a fireplace, and a door leading to what she assumed must be a bedroom. When she glanced around the cabin again, she noticed a rocking chair in one corner, near carved figurines lining a windowsill.
“I like it.” Rhiannon looked up at Keir and smiled. “It’s totally you.”
He gently kissed her. “You need to lie down,” he murmured and Rhiannon sighed, a sense of peacefulness washing over her.
Must be the ale.
Keir escorted her into the bedroom where there was a huge bed with what looked like a pillowy mattress.
Still feeling tipsy, Rhiannon grinned, turned her back on it and let herself fall into its softness. Did it ever feel good—like the mattress was totally filled with feathers.
“You have now destroyed all my illusions.” Rhiannon kicked off her pink running shoes and wiggled so that she was completely on the bed. “I figured you slept with a single blanket on a pile of rocks.”
His expression was amused when he lay down beside her so that they were facing each other on the bed. He propped his head in his hand and his elbow sank into the mattress.
With the fingers of his free hand, he made a trail from the curve of her jaw, down her neck, over her shoulder, and along her arm until his hand settled on her waist. His palm felt warm through her T-shirt and his eyes heated her through.
Rhiannon smiled as she looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
19
“Mmmmm,” Rhiannon said as she kissed Keir. He tasted of ale and man, pure man.
Keir moved his hand from her waist to cup one of her breasts. She drew away and looked into his dark eyes. “I want to know more about you, Keir.”
He cocked an eyebrow and she continued, “I don’t know anything about your past, your childhood, what you do when you’re not off saving people. Or beings. Or whoever.”
He sighed and moved his hand back to her waist. For a long moment he looked at her and thoughtfulness filled his gaze. He finally said, “What would you like to know?”
She reached up and stroked the scar on his cheek. “How did you get this?”
Keir scowled and she knew she’d hit a big sore spot. “From Hawk, when we were children. It was not his fault, though.”
“You two are brothers, aren’t you?” she asked as she continued to stroke his scar.
His scowl deepened. “I am the bastard son of our father.”
She brought her fingers to his stubbled jaw. “Your father had an affair?”
“Aye. With a Mystwalker. My mother left me with my father and his wife.”
“They didn’t treat you very well, did they.” It came out as a statement, not a question.
His features darkened. “I do not wish to speak of that anymore.”
“Okay.” She moved her fingers to his lips and his expression softened until she dropped her hand away and said, “You were going to tell me about your scar.”
Keir sighed as if facing the inevitable. “When we were very young, Hawk and I fought constantly. He stayed in the main house while my stepmother forced me to live in the barn.”
Rhiannon’s heart jerked. How could they have been so cruel?
“We used to play with wooden swords,” Keir continued, “but one day when we were close to the age of ten, Hawk picked up a new training sword. I went to block his blow, his sword broke my wooden one, and his blade flayed open my cheek.”
Rhiannon touched his scar again. “Why didn’t it heal well? You’re D’Danann.”
“The blade had traces of iron.” He held his hand over hers and it rested against his face. “An enemy of my father planted it there to harm Hawk—my father’s favored son—but he picked it up, not I. Either of us could have died. Iron is deadly even to gods in large quantities or in certain parts of the body.”
“Did your father find the enemy who planted the sword?”
“Aye.” Keir took her hand from his face and squeezed her fingers. “My father killed him. I think because of the threat to Hawk, not because of my
injury.”
“Is that why you and Hawk don’t get along?”
“No.” Keir laced their fingers together. “Our rivalry started when we were young. He constantly taunted me and I retaliated. Although, to be fair, I provoked him just as much and he found ways to get even as well.”
“Like what?” Rhiannon asked softly.
He looked down at their joined hands, cleared his throat, and looked back at her. “I dug a pit and filled it with snakes—they were not harmful, but when he fell into the pit, the fear was too much for him. He fears snakes to this day.”
Keir shook his head. “I regret that. And not because my father whipped me until my back was a bloody mess—like he always did—but because…”
He clenched his jaw and let out a low growl. “Do not mind my words.”
Rhiannon’s heart hurt for the little boy who had been forced to live in a barn and had been whipped by his father. “Is your rivalry with Hawk because he was the favored one, and you were treated like crap?”
Keir released her hand to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He dropped his hand away and looked at her again. “Perhaps our rivalry extended from my jealousy of him.”
“How close are you in age?” she asked, wanting to reach out to him and hold him close to her.
He shrugged one large shoulder. “A year apart. But our sparring has lasted centuries. Our rift is too far to span.”
“Hey.” Rhiannon leaned forward and lightly kissed him before drawing back again. “It’s never too late.”
Keir merely looked at her. He moved his hand to her cheek and brushed his knuckles over her own scars. Instead of feeling like the scars were on fire, they felt cooled and soothed by his touch. “Junga did this to you?”
Rhiannon nodded.
He scowled. “I will kill that bitch-demon before this war is over.”
When Rhiannon pressed him, Keir told her more about his child and adulthood. The Tuatha D’Danann had all been lesser gods, children of the goddess Anu.
To gain control of the beautiful country of Ireland, the D’Danann battled the Fomorii. At that time, the Fomorii were sea gods that served the evil god Balor.
It took many months, but finally the D’Danann were triumphant in battle.
After their defeat, the Fomorii were relegated by the greater gods to live as demons banished to a part of Otherworld.
However, the demons performed more evils and were thrown into Underworld, where the god Balor and his wife, Ceithlenn, had been exiled.
Ireland enjoyed a long period of peace and prosperity under the rule of the D’Danann, but eventually that peace was shattered. The D’Danann were forced to fend off an attack by the Milesians, gods from Spain.
The D’Danann lost the great battle. Once defeated by the Milesians, the D’Danann left to live in Otherworld, no longer Celtic gods, but warrior Fae living in their own Sidhe.
“What was it like to be a god?” Rhiannon asked, finding it hard to believe she was in bed with a former god.
Keir shrugged one shoulder again. “It was not a lot different than it is today. We can live forever—as long as Otherworld remains our home. Before, we could have lived forever in any world.”
Rhiannon moved her fingers to settle on his muscled biceps. “Does it work for anyone else who comes to live here? The living forever thing.”
His dark eyes studied her. “No one dies of old age in our Otherworld.”
She smiled. “That must be nice.”
“When one is more than two thousand years old, years are but a blink of an eye.”
Rhiannon widened her gaze. “You are more than two thousand?”
He nodded. “Aye.”
“Whoa.” She squeezed his biceps. “You hold up well for an old man.”
Keir rolled her over onto her back so fast it was a blur. “This old man can still pleasure a woman like none other.”
His long hair tickled her cheeks and his dark eyes were filled with desire. He pressed himself between her thighs and she wished she didn’t have her jeans on. She wanted that hardness inside her, now.
“Take them off.” Keir was obviously of the same mind as he rose up on his knees between her thighs.
She hurried to unbutton her jeans and unzipped them, but Keir had her stripped out of them, her panties, and socks faster than she could catch her breath. He loosened the ties on his leather pants and released himself.
Rhiannon ached to feel him inside her. She wrapped her bare legs around his leather-clad hips and gripped him tight, bringing them closer together.
His expression was fierce as he placed the head of his erection at the entrance to her channel and she groaned as she rose up and tried to take him inside her.
What they had shared made her need to feel this closeness with him.
Keir placed his hands to either side of her shoulders and captured her mouth with his at the same time he thrust deep. Rhiannon cried into his mouth and brought her hips up as he slammed into her. His leather pants chafed the insides of her bare thighs with every movement.
This was no slow, sensual mating. This was good hard sex that felt primal, wild, raw. She pulled her T-shirt and her bra up to bare her breasts so that she could feel his leather shirt against her nipples.
He slowed his pace long enough to help her completely out of her clothing and then resumed his hard and fast pace.
“How long can an old man like you last?” she asked as she squeezed her thighs tighter around his hips.
“How long can you breathe?”
Rhiannon would have laughed but she was too into the pleasure he was giving her.
When she hit her climax, it was as wild as their lovemaking had been. Hard jerks of her body. Deep spasms in her core. Heat rushing to every part of her. Hair tingling at her scalp and her cries loud and long.
The feel of him after having experienced such an intense climax caused another one to build and she cried out again.
“Am I such an old man?” he asked as he drew out her orgasm with every stroke.
“No.” She squirmed, trying to breathe as her body vibrated. “Goddess, no.”
He gave her a wicked smile then forced his hips firmly against hers and growled as he climaxed. He bucked against her and clenched his teeth as her channel squeezed down on him, drawing out his orgasm.
Keir remained pressed tight to her as he looked down at her. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing and sweat trickled down the side of her face and into her now damp hair.
“Are you ready for this old man to take you again?” he said.
Rhiannon swallowed, not sure how much more she could take. He’d almost worn her out with that first round. “What if I say yes?”
In a fast movement, he flipped her onto her belly. “Hands and knees, woman.”
Woman?
What the hell. The sex was too damn good.
She rose onto her hands and knees and he began palming her ass. He rubbed his callused hands over her and squeezed handfuls of her flesh. Rhiannon moaned when his long hair tickled her ass. Such a sensual caress that about drove her crazy.
He bit her ass and she cried out.
“Ow!” She wriggled despite the fact he was grasping her hips, keeping her still with the power of his hold. “What did you do that for?”
“Do what?” he murmured as he licked the spot with his warm tongue. The flick of his tongue made her want to just melt.
Before she could answer his teasing question with a smart remark, his hair slid across her skin again. He bit her other ass cheek.
Unbelievably her core spasmed. It hurt, but it felt so incredibly good. This time she didn’t cry out, she moaned.
“Ah, my little treasure enjoys my teeth on her.” He nipped at her again, then licked the spot. “As she likes my tongue. My mouth. My cock.”
Rhiannon groaned. “Stop teasing me and just take me.”
“When I am ready.” He bit her again, but this time he thrust two of his
fingers into her core.
“Oh, jeez.” Rhiannon was panting now and squirming. “Come on. Please.”
“Mmmm.” He bit her ass more gently before moving his mouth closer to her folds. She felt the slide of his hair right before he found her center with his mouth and tongue.
Rhiannon’s elbows and knees almost gave out at the surprise and sudden rush of sensation. He licked and sucked her until she almost wept from the feel of it. She trembled as he brought her to the brink of orgasm. She was almost there.
So close.
He moved his mouth away.
“Don’t stop!” Rhiannon wiggled her hips in his hold. This time her voice was demanding. She couldn’t believe he’d stopped.
He bit her ass again and a shudder traveled through her entire body. She grew wetter with every touch, every bite, every lick. Goddess, she wanted him so bad.
With his hands on her hips, he pressed himself against her ass. “Is this what you want?” He rubbed himself against her flesh. “Do you want me?”
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Hmmm.” He gripped one side of her hips with one of his big hands. With his other hand he grasped the back of her neck, just below her hairline, and pushed down. He forced her low so that her cheek rested against the mattress.
It was an incredibly dominant movement that both shocked and thrilled her. “Arms above your head if you want me.”
What? “I—ooooh,” she moaned as he slid between her thighs. Whatever. She’d do anything to have him inside her now. “Okay. Wow.”
Rhiannon obeyed and stretched her arms over her head. Keir gave something that sounded like a rumble of approval.
With his dominant hold at the base of her neck, he kept her face pressed to the mattress. Rhiannon bit her lower lip. In this position she was so vulnerable. But she was with a man she now trusted completely.
“Are you prepared to be taken by this old man?” he said as he pumped his hips against her ass, sliding back and forth between her thighs.
The Wicked Page 17
