by Mac Flynn
"How came she to have such skills, old friend?" a voice whispered.
My heavy eyes opened and I glimpsed the interior of the large tent. I lay upon a bed of furs, and beside me was a small table. Opposite me stood Tristan and Duncan, and their faces were tense.
"Would you think less of her if you knew the truth?" Tristan wondered.
"Tristan, I have been very patient, but I must know," Duncan persisted. "Her powers were like those of the witch that tried to kill your own wife. Can you believe that she is truly your mother?"
A sad smile slipped onto Tristan's lips. "My head understands what you say and I rejoice in your caring for my safety, but my heart knows her to be my mother." Tristan placed a hand on Duncan's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "If she were not then she missed the greatest opportunity to destroy those of whom I care the most."
A ghost of a smile slipped onto Duncan's lips and he shook his head. "You always had a way of convincing me the Devil was goodly."
Tristan chuckled and dropped his hand. "While a mother may be so terrible I am blessed with one who is not."
"Now what are your plans, Laird of Campbell?" Duncan wondered. "Will you force your friends and allies into more trouble?"
Tristan shook his head. "As I said, there will be nothing more this winter. Our allies are defeated and those of your land who were not loyal are vanquished."
"Then I look forward to a week of revelry with you until my father, brother and I must return to our lands," Duncan replied.
"I would like nothing more," Tristan assured him.
Duncan's eyes flitted to me and I quickly closed mine. "I would bet there is something more."
"You have caught me in a fib, old friend, and I apologize," Tristan teased.
"Do not apologize, but keep her safe," Duncan replied. "She seems to be a very special woman who goes with God."
"That she is, and I will. I swear it," Tristan promised.
"Then I shall see you later," Duncan finished.
I heard the flaps open and close, and I opened my eyes. I let out a yelp as I beheld Tristan seated close beside me with a grin on his face.
"Good morn, goddess," he greeted me.
I frowned at him. "It is not very becoming to frighten your bride."
"Wife, my goddess," he corrected me. "But Mother told me of your fatigue from your powers. How do you fare this morn?"
I sat up and scrunched my face. "I feel nothing except sore from so much riding."
He laughed and kissed my cheek. "We must give you more practice today."
I cringed. "More traveling?"
"Aye, but to home," he informed me.
The dead were buried, the battlefield looted, and the tents packed away. Our company and army marched back home, and all along the road we were showered with warm greetings and great praises. The village welcomed us with large crowds and the soldiers dispersed to their families. The castle was prepared for our coming with a great quantity of food and fires stoked hot to warm the awaiting rooms.
I pleaded exhaustion and abstained from the festivities. My solace lay in the comfort of my shared chambers where the peace and quiet was in stark contrast to the last half week. The stress was gone for the moment as I stood beside the large, crackling fire, and I allowed my thoughts to wander back to my first glance of the great hearth.
So much had happened to me in such a short time, and only now was all right with the world. My new life was stitched together with a fabric of friends and adventures, and there were terrifying memories as well as wonderful ones. I wondered what new trials and fun would be before me as the wife of a laird who was more than a man.
A noise caught my attention, and I turned to one of the north-facing windows. A small bird stood on the sill outside and chirped at me. I smiled and walked over to the window. The small bird flew away, and I opened the window to watch its flight down to the garden where it joined many more like it. The first snow of winter fell from the gray sky and covered the ground with its cool blanket. My husband and mate came up behind me and set his hands on my shoulders. He leaned down so his warm words wafted over my ears.
"What has hold over your thoughts, my goddess?" he whispered.
I turned to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Always you, my love," I assured him.
A wicked smile slipped onto his lips and his eyes showed a hint of yellow color in their depths. "And I hope those thoughts are filled with pleasant emotions," he mused.
I chuckled and stood on my tiptoes to press a delicate kiss on his warm lips. "Perhaps," I teased.
His grin widened. "Then we must change these emotions into something with more substance."
He leaned down and pressed out lips together in a hot, passionate kiss. His hands slid down the sides of my body and wrapped around my buttocks. He pressed me close to him, and I felt his need through his thick clothes. I groaned and pulled us apart. My cheeks were warmed by his hands as they massaged my buttocks and my breathing quickened as delicious lust arose inside me.
"My laird, you honor me with such attention," I told him.
"If you believe this is honor than I mean to worship you," he returned.
My lover swept me into his arms and carried me to our bed where he lay me atop the covers. He pressed against my side and draped his arm across my waist. His hot lips pressed delicate kisses down my neck as I squirmed beneath his weight. The heat inside of me burned anew as the goddess of beasts that dwelt within me awakened. I felt my muscles stretch my clothes and my breasts swelled so they pushed against the front of my dress and nearly spilled over the fabric. The voluptuous feel of my pert nubs as they brushed against my dress rewarded me with hot pleasure that demanded more of such touches.
"My laird," I moaned.
He pulled away to hover over me and his eyes were the yellow hue of the Harvest Moon. His teeth were long and sharp, and he panted for breath as stray hairs pushed out from his skin. He reached up and cupped one of my swollen breasts. I groaned and arched my back to press myself into his sensual grasp.
"My goddess," he growled.
"Take me," I pleaded. I cupped one of his cheeks in my hand and smiled into his bright eyes. "Make love to me and never stop."
His lips curled back in a feral grin that promised delicious pleasures. I longed to know them, to feel them on my skin and inside of me.
"As you wish," he replied.
He dragged his sharpened fingers down one side of my dress and sliced open the fabric worn thin and muddy by travel. The cloth fell away and revealed my pale, trembling flesh. He leaned down over my naked breast and nipped at my sensitive nub. His touch seared my skin and the hot ache inside me worsened. He pushed open my dress and I emerged as a voluptuous creature of lust. I grasped the covers as my heart quickened its beating and my body became awash with sweat.
Every feel of him against me drove me mad with desire, and yet my body demanded more. I longed for more of this sensual torture, this tense, impatient demand for his touches. All other emotions were swept away but for the longing to fulfill the growing need inside me. Only he could satisfy this delicious lust. He was my master, my laird, my love, and I allowed him to touch my body as none else could.
His hands slid over all my flesh as his lips suckled at my breast. He left no bit of my body neglected, but his focus lay on the coarse hair between my trembling thighs. His finger slid into the hot, wet folds and brushed against my trembling womanhood. I gasped and jumped as he stroked me with his gentle touch. Each stroke heightened the hot pleasure inside me. Every slide of his finger against me left me awash in sweet, sensual desire.
And yet my body was not satisfied. I longed to feel him inside me, to know him intimately as he penetrated me again and again. I squirmed and whimpered, and still he continued with this delicate torture.
"Please," I groaned.
He raised his head and showed off his long fangs. The lustful heat in his eyes seared my soul with desire.
"Tell me what you
desire, my goddess. I am yours to command," he growled.
I reveled in the power I held over this strong, handsome demon. My hand cupped his cheek as my other one slid over his fur-covered back. He ground his manhood against my hip and groaned. I coyly smiled and pushed my breasts upward in a teasing invitation.
"Make me yours, my love, and know no one else," I whispered.
He needed no other command. His clothes were torn off him and he covered me with his hot, firm body. He thrust deep inside me, and we both groaned at the delicious feel of our union. We were one body and mind, and that mind demanded we satisfy the sexual need that ravaged our bodies. We rutted like animals atop the torn sheets. Our clawed hands grasp each other as our wild thrusts forced shrieks of joy from my mouth.
"Yes! Oh god, yes!" I shouted.
My hips moved in time with his fast, firm penetrations and my body reveled in the ache inside me. It reached a feverish pitch that propelled me into a wondrous land of bliss. My body convulsed with pleasure as he continued to thrust into me until his body gave. He shoved twice more into me and promptly collapsed atop me.
Our sweat-soaked bodies were pressed together for a moment before he groaned and rolled beside me. He gathered me in his arms and pulled me against his chest. I settled against his warm body and closed my eyes with a sigh. He petted my hair and I was soothed by the steady beat of his heart.
"Are you satisfied, my goddess?" he whispered.
I chuckled and looked into his human face. "For now," I teased.
He smiled and leaned down to peck a kiss on my lips. "Those are my sentiments exactly."
We lay together that long wintry night, and many more thereafter. Every night was much the same, and for that I was very grateful. There would be times where we would be pulled apart, but at that moment I was content in his arms.
And thus ended my transition into a life I never dreamed, and one that I would never again regret.
For all books by Mac Flynn visit her author's page or visit Mac Flynn's website.
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