by Mary Morgan
Anne glared at them. “Beware, Ivy, when cupid’s arrow strikes you. I pray it’s with someone who can love you back.”
The woman’s words haunted Conn as they made their way out of Anne’s home.
Chapter Seventeen
“Once a woven love knot has been spun, the bond cannot be undone.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
“What a wasted life—full of remorse and bitterness,” snapped Ivy as she continued to stare outward toward the ocean as they sped along the road. “I’m stunned, confused…angry.” She refused to let the tears fall. Once they did, she feared she would never be able to stop the flow.
“Obviously, the woman will continue with her obsession with a man that was never hers to begin with. She wasn’t strong enough to move forward in her life. Her feelings were not of love,” declared Conn.
Ivy turned toward him. “She’s demented.”
“A touch,” he agreed.
“All these years…” She blew out a frustrated breath. “To think I never knew the man who was truly my father.”
“You said you feared your father—Patrick. Why?”
Where should she begin? How she ached to explain all to Conn. Rubbing at her temples, Ivy couldn’t get enough air. The scenery was a blur, and all she wanted to do was run along the ocean—have her feet touch sand and water. “Stop the car,” she pleaded. “I need to get out and walk. It’s too confining.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere,” she ordered, trying to maintain her composure and not become a blubbering idiot in front him.
Gripping the handle of the locked door, she held on until Conn could venture off the main road. Clenching her eyes shut, she tried to take in deep calming breaths. Anxiety clawed at her, fracturing her mind and spirit.
“You can exit the car, Ivy,” he spoke softly.
She didn’t need to be told twice and bolted from the vehicle. The blast of sea breeze slapped across her face as she made a sprint down to the ocean. Stopping halfway, she removed her boots and ran parallel along the waves.
Blissful freedom. If only she could fly, she would venture far off into the horizon. When she could no longer run any farther, she slowed her steps and faced the rolling waves. A calming rhythm to quiet her racing heart. Here is where she let the tears fall freely.
“Collect my sorrow Manannán mac Lir and transform my tears into crystals,” she uttered quietly to the God of the Sea.
“I have faith he has heard your request,” stated Conn behind her. His voice was a soothing balm on her wretched nerves.
Ivy kept her focus on the rise and fall of the waves. “My mother used to bring me to the ocean when the arguments became fierce in our home. I knew he didn’t much like me, though I tried so many times to gain his favor in anything. All I wanted—craved was some kind of approval.”
“Your father?”
She sucked in a breath. “Patrick is not my father. The veil of truth has been shown.” Ivy picked up a stone and tossed it far. “No wonder he hated me. I wasn’t even his real daughter.”
Conn spun her around to face him. Taking his thumbs, he wiped away her tears. “You were his kin. He should have loved, cared, and protected you.” Placing a gentle finger under her chin, he held her gaze. “The man was a coward—taking your mother and you away from your heritage.”
“My mother could have stopped him, though,” she argued. “I loved her tremendously, but I’m a bit angry with her, too. Why didn’t she divorce him and return to Ireland?”
Conn frowned, his handsome face suddenly solemn. “Questions without answers.”
Grasping his hand, Ivy held it tight within her own. “You asked if I feared him. The answer is yes.” Her lip trembled, but she gave no care. The time had come to strip away the layers of secrets. “I have a gift, Conn. One where I can see the past or future. Sometimes it comes without warning, and there’s nothing I can do, especially when meeting someone new. Or, a vision will start with an aura—flashing lights and I go into a trance. My mother did her best to protect me from him, but he hated the outbursts.”
Ivy scanned his face, but no trace of shock or disbelief shown. “He hated that I was different. Called me a freak of bad genes. Now I know why.”
“Because you inherited your gift of sight from your biological father,” confirmed Conn.
She placed her head on his chest, warm and safe. “He vowed to beat me if I couldn’t control them, though my mother made sure he never laid a hand on me.”
His arm wrapped around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. “Bastard,” he growled.
Clinging to his jacket, Ivy gazed up into his face. “The past is gone. I cannot undo what has already occurred. Nevertheless, I can make sure the future is not one cloaked in shadows. I have you, Conn, to thank for listening, encouraging me to share.”
His hands cupped her face. There was an invitation in the smoldering depths of his eyes, and she found herself spiraling into an unknown abyss.
Ivy was tired of living behind a shroud of lies, especially with the man in front of her. She was a fool to think he could only remain a friend, when she desired so much more. Can this friendship mean more? I’ve never wanted—needed another man like I do you. Her heart screamed at her to utter the words, but her mind kept her tongue silent.
Conn bent his head near her ear. “Ivy, ghrá—love,” his breath hot against her cheek.
Moaning softly, she leaned closer, her lips searching his. He captured her mouth, hot and demanding. Ivy returned the kiss with a hunger that belied her outward calm. Reaching upward, she delved her fingers into his silky strands, deepening the kiss. His tongue stroked the inside of her mouth, sending her senses reeling. The roar of the ocean a distant hum as Ivy clung onto him needing to feel more. He tasted of the woods—wild and free.
God, how she desired this man. She wanted to break down his walls and bring him comfort—soothe his demons and share his worries.
In one swift move, Conn lifted her into his arms, his mouth trailing a path along her neck. “Tell me to stop, Ivy,” his words came out in a strangled voice.
She pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth. “No.”
Desire flared and slashed within his steel blue eyes. “Are you prepared to accept all I give you?”
“I crave your touch everywhere. You’ve haunted my days and nights.” No longer letting fear guide her, Ivy traced her finger along his chin, and added, “Claim me, Conn MacRoich, for I am all yours, and I’m tired of denying what I feel for you.”
Words she couldn’t comprehend poured out of the man as he carried her across the sandy beach, grabbing her boots along the way. He walked past her car and strode into the forest. Ivy remained silent, watching his profile—raw and sensual. There was no going back. Their destiny now set. He continued to move with fluid grace through the dense foliage. At times, the tree limbs seemed to lift all on their own to let them pass through. But Ivy didn’t care, for the magic of the land surrounded them. Her blood burned to be with Conn.
Leaning her head on his shoulder, Ivy watched him take them deeper within the trees.
Thunder rolled in the distance, and Conn’s steps hastened to a partial clearing. Slowly, he brought her feet to the ground, his hands firmly on her back.
He released her and cupped her face. “I will take you here upon the land—in the light. The grass will be your bed and the flowers your pillow. Your pleasure shall be mine.” His hand moved under her dress to skim her thighs. “And mine will be yours.” He kissed her tenderly before walking around to her backside.
Ivy trembled. Above the trees, the sky brightened. Warmth and desire surrounded her, seeping into her toes and curling up within her body. She yearned to be free from her clothing. To touch her skin with his. She slipped the jacket free from her body. Easily pulling the dress off over her head, she heard his soft hiss, and smiled.
She shivered as he trailed his finger down the length of her back, stopping at the tattoo just above h
er lace panties. Conn’s presence loomed behind her, his breath hot against her neck. “You’re not wearing a bra?” The burr of his voice a heady sensation.
Ivy’s breathing was labored as his finger moved around the lace. “No,” she uttered softly.
His fingers tugged at the material, and she groaned from the friction over her sensitive core. “A Celtic knot suits you.”
“You approve?” she asked softly.
His laughter breathed warm against her skin. “Have you not seen my own?”
Peering over her shoulder, her breath hitched as she gazed into his eyes. “They’re stunning,” she answered, staring into his brilliant depths.
Conn turned her around to face him. He had stripped his shoes and shirt off, revealing a muscular body chiseled from the gods themselves. She tilted her head to the side to gaze at his tattoos running down the length of both arms—from shoulder to wrist.
He placed his hands on her hips. “You are a vision, Ivy. More stunning than I ever imagined.”
She arched a brow. “So you’ve imagined me…naked?”
His gaze raked over her body. “Yes.”
She traced a path on one of the Celtic tribal tattoos, the heat flooding her face. “I’ve often wondered what you would look like without clothes, too. I thought of you posing nude for a drawing.”
“Truly?” His smile was hot and seductive.
Ivy glanced back at his tattoos. “What do they all mean?”
Placing his head on her forehead, he replied, “My lineage.”
“Can you share more?” Ivy placed both hands on his chest.
“After I make love to every inch of your body.” He then smothered her mouth with demanding mastery causing her knees to become weak.
Conn drew the breath from her lungs and then gave it back to her mingled with his own. Breaking free from the kiss, her vision was clouded with passion. He left her aching for more.
Taking a few steps back, his gaze was one of promises to come as he slowly removed his jeans. Tossing them aside, he waited. Ivy tried to look away, but the sight of him lured her forward. A perfect male specimen. Her Adonis come to life. A man like no other and Ivy wanted him not only for today, but always.
“Are you afraid?” His voice whispered low as he held out his hand to her.
Ivy slipped her fingers within his. “Never when I am with you.”
Their lips met, and she felt buffeted by the winds of a savage harmony. His hands roamed over her skin, inciting a roar of sensations that begged to be satisfied and released. When his fingers squeezed her nipple, Ivy groaned. He broke from the kiss only to feast on her breasts. She swayed to a rhythm powerful and intense, not knowing how much longer she could remain standing.
“Your smell is intoxicating, mo ghrá.” He fondled one breast while his other hand glided over her abdomen to her curls. His finger slipped inside Ivy and moved back and forth, taking her to an entirely new height of urgency.
“More, Conn,” she pleaded rocking against his hand.
He nuzzled her ear. “What have you done to me?”
Ivy couldn’t respond, his fingers making slow sensuous circles. The blaze of desire built with each movement—so close to flame. She watched in a lust-filled haze as he knelt in front of her. When he stopped, she groaned in frustration, and his lips descended to capture her torment in her most private area. The touch of his mouth sent a shockwave throughout her body and stars flashed before her eyes. His tongue teased, coaxed, sending her on a wave of ecstasy more powerful than anything she had ever experienced.
Scooping her up into his arms, Conn brought her down upon the soft grasses. She could feel the length of his arousal large against her side. “Take me,” she whispered. “Now.”
“Once I take you, there will be no other,” he stated firmly.
“Hmm…you’re sounding medieval.” Ivy skimmed her hands across his abdomen until she reached her destination. Grabbing his swollen erection, she squeezed, eliciting a growl that vibrated across the land.
Conn had only wanted to soothe Ivy—a chaste kiss of healing on the beach. Yet, the fire of something more raced through him, burning the blood within his veins. Now, he would give her something he had never given before to a woman. Himself. His heart. A binding pledge that he had vowed never to give to anyone.
Nudging her thighs apart, he continued to stare into eyes that had mesmerized him from the moment they met. She opened fully for him. The moment his cock touched her sweet entrance, he thought he would die. Groaning, he slowly thrust into her, and she welcomed him inch by inch into her warm body. His arms shook trying not to spill his seed, tasting her ivory breasts, and moving in a dance more ancient than his ancestors.
“Conn…oh, Conn,” she whimpered.
He knew her release was near, and he waited. Time stilled, their breathing became labored, and then the wave of pleasure shattered through them both sending their bodies in exquisite harmony with one another. The world spun, tilted, and Conn roared as the release poured out of him and into Ivy.
A cool breeze drifted over the lovers, as they lay tangled in each other’s arms. Conn brushed a lock of hair away from Ivy’s eyes. The sun streamed down around them, casting a glow on her beautiful features. She was lovelier than any in his own world.
A lone tear slipped down the side of her face.
His heart froze, fearing he had hurt her. “Why do you weep?”
Her eyes fluttered open. Reaching up, she placed a hand on his face. “Tears of joy. I never knew that making love—real love could move your soul.”
“Mo ghrá,” he said softly, caressing her body with his fingers as his mouth devoured her sigh within him.
He wanted to be her confidant. Her champion—slay any and all demons for her. But most of all, Conn wanted to be her lover. Forever.
Chapter Eighteen
“A path not chosen, but taken, will be fraught with sharp curves.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
When the first drop of rain landed on Ivy’s breast, she giggled. A sound he found enchanting. She was his sprite of the forest. As another splashed on her cheek, he kissed the water from her face. She wiggled under him, and his cock swelled at the invitation. Nuzzling her breasts, he murmured, “If you continue to move sensually, I’ll be forced to take you again.”
“In the rain?” she asked, opening for him.
“Are you afraid of a little water?” he teased, tracing a path along one breast with his tongue.
“Bah! Bring it on,” she encouraged, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Thunder rolled directly over them as Conn thrust deep within Ivy. The sky could have opened with hail and lightning, but he was lost in the arms of the most bewitching woman he had ever met. She was the sun, moon, stars above him, and the earth beneath Conn. As he roused her passion, his grew stronger. Moving in a primal dance, the liquid fire built inside of him, and he captured her cries and mingled them with his own—shattering into a million pieces. His release so strong the ground shook beneath them.
Moments passed before Conn could focus. Trying to calm his racing heart, he shielded Ivy from the torrential downpour. Her eyes were closed as he kissed her swollen lips. “Unless you want to be knee deep in mud, I believe we should get out of the rain.”
Her eyes flickered open. “Come back to the cottage with me?”
“Will you feed me?”
Ivy arched a brow. “It depends on what you’re hungry for.”
“You have wicked thoughts, lass.”
“Only when I’m around you.”
Conn stood and reached for Ivy’s hand to help her stand. “Not true. I want to hear more about this proposal of painting me in the nude.”
Her face turned crimson, but she didn’t look away. “Those thoughts don’t count. Also, I don’t recall saying anything about a proposal.”
“Yet, you have intrigued me,” he responded dryly.
As Conn gathered their wet clothes, he moved them under a larg
e pine to shield them from the rain as they attempted to dress themselves. Ivy’s dress clung to every curve, and he was tempted to strip her of the fabric and make love to her once again. Instead, he placed his leather jacket over her shoulders.
“Warmer?”
She smiled fully at him. “I was never cold.”
Grasping her hand, he pulled her toward him and kissed her soundly. Then Conn scooped her up into his arms and headed back to the car.
“I can walk, Sir Knight,” she mocked, tracing a finger down the side of his face.
“I like holding you.”
Conn could feel her gaze, but he kept his focus on the land. Soon, he stepped out of the forest, made a steady path to the car, and helped Ivy inside the passenger side. Slipping in next to her, he fumbled for the keys. Moments later, they were headed back to Glennamore.
By the time they returned to the cottage, the sky had turned black, and the rain had turned into a vicious storm. Conn maneuvered the car near the front entrance and Ivy dashed out. When she was safely inside her house, he drove to the garage and parked the vehicle. Sprinting back to the cottage, he stripped free from his boots and left them outside the front door.
Stepping inside, Conn made his way to the hearth in the sitting room and placed kindling and wood inside. Wiping his nose, he looked around for matches. Seeing none, he grumbled a curse. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, he turned back around. Flexing his fingers, he let the sparks dance off onto the wood. Instantly, the blaze took hold. Warmth and light flooded the place, and he smiled.
“How did you start the fire?” demanded Ivy, towel drying her damp locks and looking adorable in black leggings and a sweater dress that hugged all her curves.
“Matches,” he lied.
She gaped at him. “I have none. It was on my list to purchase at the market.”
“Found one lying nearby.” He stared at her, daring her to challenge him.
“Lucky find, since I cleaned this place only yesterday.” Ivy moved into the room and stood in front of the blazing heat.
Conn shrugged dismissively.
