Nora Roberts's Circle Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

  The bed was beneath her? Had he crossed the room? How had…but her mind misted over again as his hands, his mouth, slid like flaming velvet over her body.

  She was a feast, and he’d fasted far too long. But still he sampled slowly, lingering over tastes and textures. And with each shiver, each sigh or gasp, she fed his own arousal.

  When her curious hands came too close to breaking his control, he caught them in his own, trapping them as he slowly, mercilessly ravished her breasts.

  She was building beneath him; he could feel the power filling her, harder, fuller. And when he pushed her to peak, she bowed up, riding it with a strangled cry.

  She melted down, her hands going limp under his.

  “Oh.” The word was a long expulsion of breath. “Oh, I see.”

  “You think you do.” His tongue traced over the thick beat of the pulse in her throat. As she sighed, he glided his hand between her legs, and sliding into the wet heat, showed her more.

  Everything went bright. It blinded her, the brilliance of it all but seared her eyes, her skin, her heart. She was nothing but feelings now, a mass of pleasures beyond any possibility. She was the arrow from the bow, and he’d shot her high, on an endless flight.

  His hands simply ruled her until she was a hostage to this never-ending need. Half-mad she struggled with his shirt.

  “I need—I want—”

  “I know.” He pulled off his shirt so she could touch and taste him in turn. And let himself glide on the pleasure of her eager explorations. Her breath against his skin, warm and quick, her fingers tracing, then digging. When her hands gripped his hips, he let her help him strip the rest of his clothes away.

  And wasn’t sure whether to be amused or flattered when her eyes went huge.

  “I…I didn’t realize. I’ve seen a cock before, but—”

  Now he laughed. “Oh, have you now?”

  “Of course. Men bathe in the river, and well, and being curious…”

  “You’ve spied on them. A man’s pride isn’t at its, ah, fullest after a bath in a cold river. I won’t hurt you.”

  He’d have to, wouldn’t he? she thought. She’d read of such things, and certainly she’d heard the women speak of it. But she wasn’t afraid of the pain. She feared nothing now.

  So she laid back again, braced for him. But he only began to touch her again, rouse her again, undo her again as if she were a knot of string.

  He wanted her drenched, drowning, beyond thought and nerves. That tight and slender body she’d stiffened in anticipation went loose again. Warm and soft again, with that erotic flush of blood spreading under the skin.

  “Look at me. Moira mo chroi. Look at me. Look into me.”

  This he could do, with will and control. He could ease that moment, that flash of pain and give her only the pleasure. When those heavy gray eyes blurred, he pierced her. He filled her.

  Her lips trembled, and the moan they formed was low and deep. He kept her trapped in his eyes as he began to move, long, slow thrusts that had the thrill of it rippling over her face, over her body.

  Even when he released her from the thrall, when she began to move with him, her eyes stayed locked on his. Her heart was raging, a wild drum against his chest, so vital it seemed—for a moment—as if it beat inside him.

  She came with a cry of wonder and abandonment. At last, at last, he let his own need take him with her.

  She curled up against him, a cat who’d lapped up every drop of cream. He would, he was sure, berate himself later for what he’d done. But for now he was content to wallow a bit.

  “I didn’t know it could be like that,” she murmured. “So enormous.”

  “Being so well-endowed, I’ve likely ruined you for anyone else.”

  “I didn’t mean the size of your pride, as you called it.” Laughing, she looked up at him, and saw from his lazy smile he’d understood her meaning perfectly. “I’ve read of the act, of course. Medical books, storybooks. But the personal experience of it is much more satisfying.”

  “I’m happy to have assisted you in your research.”

  She rolled over so she could splay herself on him. “I’ll need to do considerably more research, I’m thinking, before I know all there is to know. I’m greedy for knowledge.”

  “Damn you, Moira.” he said it with a sigh as he played with her hair. “You’re perfect.”

  “Am I?” Her already glowing cheeks went pinker with pleasure. “I won’t argue because I feel so perfect right now. Thirsty though. Is there any water about?”

  He nudged her aside, then rose to fetch the jug. She sat up as he poured, and her hair spilled over her shoulders and breasts. He thought if he had a heartbeat, the sight of her like this might stop it.

  He handed her the cup, then sat across from her on the bed. “This is madness. You know it.”

  “The world’s gone mad,” she replied. “Why shouldn’t we have a piece of it? I’m not being foolish, or careless,” she said quickly, laying a hand over his. “I have to do so many things, Cian, so many things where there’s no choice for me. This was my choice. My own.”

  She drank, handed him the cup so he could share. “Will you regret something that gave us pleasure and harmed no one?”

  “You haven’t thought about what others will think of you for sharing a bed with me.”

  “Listen to you, worrying about my reputation of all things. I’m my own woman, and I don’t need to explain to anyone whose bed I share.”

  “Being queen—”

  “Doesn’t make me less a woman,” she interrupted. “A Geallian woman, and we’re known for making up our own minds. I was reminded of that earlier tonight.” Now she rose, picking up her outer robe to wrap it around her.

  He thought it was like she wrapped herself in mist.

  “One of my ladies, Ceara—do you know who I mean?”

  “Ah, tall, dark blond hair. She took you down in hand-to-hand.”

  “That she did. Her brother was killed today, on the march. He was young, not yet eighteen.” It pierced her heart, again. “I went to the sitting room where my ladies gather and found her there when I would have given her leave to be with her family.”

  “She’s loyal, and thinks of her duty to you.”

  “Not just to me. She asked if I would give her one thing, in her brother’s name. One thing.” Emotion quivered in her voice before she conquered it. “And that was to march in the morning with her husband. To go from here, from her children, from safety and face whatever might be on the road. She’s not the only woman who asks to go. We’re not weak. We don’t sit and wait, or no longer will. I was reminded of that tonight.”

  “You’ll let her go.”

  “Her, and any who wish it. In the end, some who may not wish it will be sent. I didn’t come to you because I’m weak, because I needed comfort or protection. I came because I wanted you. I wanted this.”

  She cocked her head, and with a little smile, let the robe fall. “Now it seems I’m wanting you again. Do I need to seduce you?”

  “Too late for that.”

  Her smile widened as she moved toward the bed. “I’ve heard—and I’ve read—that a man needs a bit of time between rounds.”

  “You force me to repeat myself. I’m not a man.”

  He grabbed her hand, flipped her onto the bed—and under him.

  She laughed, tugged playfully at his hair. “Isn’t that handy, under the circumstances.”

  Later, for the first time in too long to remember, Cian didn’t slip into sleep in silence, but to the quiet rhythm of Moira’s heart.

  It was that heart that woke him. He heard the sudden and rapid beat of it even before she thrashed in sleep.

  He cursed, remembering only then she wasn’t wearing her cross, nor had he taken any of Glenna’s precautions against Lilith’s intrusion.

  “Moira.” He took her shoulders, lifting her. “Wake up.”

  He was on the point of shaking her out of it when her eyes flew ope
n. Instead of the fear he’d expected, he saw grief.

  “It was a dream,” he said carefully. “Only a dream. Lilith can’t touch you in dreams.”

  “It wasn’t Lilith. I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “You’re shaking. Here.” He pulled up a blanket, tossed it over her shoulders. “I’ll get the fire going again.”

  “No need. Don’t trouble,” she said even as he got up. “I should go. It must be nearing dawn.”

  He simply crouched down, placed the turf in the hearth. “You won’t trust me with this.”

  “It’s not that. It’s not.” She should have gotten up quickly, she realized. Left straight on waking. For now she couldn’t seem to move. “It wasn’t Lilith, it was just a bad dream. Just…”

  But her breath began to hitch and heave.

  Rather than go to her, he lit the turf, then moved around the room to light candles.

  “I can’t speak of it. I can’t.”

  “Of course you can. Maybe not to me, but to Glenna. I’ll go wake her.”

  “No. No. No.” She covered her face with her hands.

  “So.” Since he was up, and unlikely to sleep again for now, he poured himself a cup of blood. “Geallian women aren’t weak.”

  She dropped her hands, and the eyes she’d hidden with them went hot with insult. “You bloody bastard.”

  “Exactly so. Run back to your room if you can’t handle it. But if you stay, you’ll pull out whatever’s knotted up your guts. Your choice.” He took a chair. “You’re big on choices, so make one.”

  “You want to hear my pain, my grief? Why not to you then, who it would mean so little to? I dreamed, as I do over and over, of my mother’s murder. Every time, it’s clearer than it was before. At first, it was so muddled and pale—like I saw it through a smear of mud. It was easier then.”

  “And now?”

  “I could see it.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I was sleeping.” Her eyes were huge on his face, and full of pain. “We’d had supper, and my uncle, Larkin, the family had come. A little family party. My mother enjoyed having them every few months. We had music after, and dancing. She loved to dance, my mother. It was late when we went to bed, and I fell asleep so quickly. I heard her scream.”

  “No one else heard?”

  Moira shook her head. “No. She didn’t scream, you see. Not out loud. I don’t think she screamed out loud. In her head, she did, and I heard it in mine. Just once. Only once. I thought I imagined it, must have imagined it. But I got up, and went down to her room. Just to ease my mind.”

  She could see it even now. She hadn’t bothered with a candle because her heart was beating so fast and hard. She’d simply run from her room and down to her mother’s door.

  “I didn’t knock. I was saying to myself, no, you’ll wake her. Just ease inside and see for yourself that she’s sleeping.

  “But when I opened the door, she wasn’t in her bed, she wasn’t sleeping. I heard such sounds, such horrible sounds. Like animals, like wolves, but worse. Oh, worse.”

  She paused, tried to swallow through her dry throat. “The doors to her balcony were open, and the curtains moving with the breeze. I called out for her. I wanted to run to the doors, but I couldn’t. My legs felt as if they’d turned to lead. I could barely make one step in front of the other. I can’t say it.”

  “You can. You walked to the door, to the balcony door.”

  “I saw…Oh God, oh God, oh God. I saw her, on the stones. And the blood, so much blood. Those things were…I’ll be sick.”

  “You won’t.” He got up now, crossed to her. “You won’t be sick.”

  “They were ripping at her.” And the words tore out of her now. “Ripping at her body. Demons, things of nightmares, tearing at my mother. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t scream. I wanted to run out and beat them off. One, one looked at me. His eyes red, my mother’s blood all over his face. My mother’s blood. He charged at the door, and I stumbled back. Back, away from her when I should have gone to her.”

  “She was dead, Moira, you knew it. You’d be dead if you’d stepped out that door.”

  “I should have gone to her. It leaped at me, and then I screamed, and screamed and screamed. Even when it fell back as if it had struck a wall, I screamed. Then it all went to black. I did nothing but scream while my mother lay bleeding.”

  “You’re not stupid,” he said flatly. “You know you were in shock. You know that what you saw was the same as being struck a stunning physical blow. Nothing you could have done would have saved your mother.”

  “How could I leave her there, Cian? Just leave her there.” Tears spilled from her eyes to slide down her cheeks. “I loved her more than anything in this world.”

  “Because your mind couldn’t cope with what you saw, with what was—to you—impossible. She was already dead, before you came into the room. She was dead, Moira, the moment you heard her scream.”

  “How can you be sure? If—”

  “They were assassins. They would have killed her instantly. What came after was indulgence, but death was the goal.”

  Now he took her cold hands in his to warm them. “She would have had only a moment to feel afraid, to feel the pain. The rest, she was beyond the rest of it.”

  She went very still, stared hard into his eyes. “Will you swear to me you believe that?”

  “It’s not a matter of believing, but knowing. I can swear that to you. If they’d wanted to torture her, they’d have taken her somewhere where they could have taken their time. What you saw was a cover-up. Wild animals, it would have been said. The way it was with your father.”

  She let out a long breath, then another as she saw the horrible logic of it. “I’ve been sick at the thought that she might have been alive when I got there. Still alive while they tore at her. It’s somehow easier to know she wasn’t.”

  She knuckled a tear away. “I’m sorry I called you a bastard.”

  “I pissed you off.”

  “With cool deliberation. I haven’t spoken of that night to anyone before this. I couldn’t pull it out of me and look at it, speak of it.”

  “Now you have.”

  “Maybe now that I have I won’t see her the way she was that night. Maybe I’ll see her as she was when she was alive, and happy. All those paintings I have inside my head of her, instead of that last one. Would you hold on to me for a bit?”

  He sat, put his arm around her, stroked her hair when she rested her head on his shoulder. “I feel better that I’ve told you. It was kind of you to piss me off so I would.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I wish I could stay, just stay here in the dark and quiet. Stay with you. But I need to go and dress. I need to see the troops off at first light.”

  She tipped her head up. “Will you kiss me good morning?”

  He met her lips with his, drew the kiss out until it brought a pang to his belly.

  She opened sleepy eyes. “I could feel that one right down to the soles of my feet. I hope that means I’ll walk lighter today.”

  Rising, she reached for her robes. “You could miss me a little these next hours,” she told him. “Or just lie when I see you again and say you did.”

  “If I tell you I missed you, it won’t be a lie.”

  Dressed, she caught his face in her hands for one more kiss. “Then I’ll settle for whatever happens to be the truth.”

  She picked up her candle, went to the door. After shooting him a last quick grin over her shoulder, she unlatched it.

  And opened it an instant before Larkin could knock.

  “Moira?” His smile was quick and baffled. It faded instantly when he saw the rumpled bed and Cian lazily wrapping a blanket around his waist.

  It was wild rage now that had him shoving Moira aside and charging.

  Cian didn’t bother to block the blow, but took it full on the face. The second fist he caught in his hand an inch before it struck. “You’re entitled to one.
But that’s enough.”

  “He’s entitled to nothing of the sort.” Moira had the presence of mind to shut and latch the door. “Strike out again, Larkin, I’ll kick your arse myself.”

  “You fucking bastard. You’ll answer for this.”

  “Undoubtedly. But not to you.”

  “It will be me, I promise you.”

  “Stop it. I mean it!”

  When Larkin’s fists bunched again, Moira had to fight the urge to bean him with a candlestick. “Lord Larkin, as your queen I command you to step back.”

  “Oh, don’t start bringing rank into it,” Cian said easily. “Let the boy try to defend his cousin’s honor.”

  “I’ll beat you bloody unconscious.”

  Out of patience, Moira shoved between them. “Look at me. Damn your thick skull, Larkin, look at me. What room are we in here?”

  “The bloody buggering bastard’s.”

  “And do you think he dragged me in here by the hair, forced himself on me? You’re a numbskull is what you are. I walked here, and I knocked on Cian’s door. I pushed myself into this room, into this bed, because it’s what I wanted.”

  “You don’t know what—”

  “If you dare, if you dare to say to me that I don’t know what I want I’ll beat you bloody unconscious.” She drilled a finger into his chest to emphasize the point. “I’ve a right to this private matter, and you’ve no say in it at all.”

  “But he—you. It’s not proper.”

  “Bollocks to that.”

  “It’s hardly a surprise your cousin objects to you sleeping with a vampire.” Cian moved away from them, picked up his cup. Deliberately he dipped a finger in, licked the blood from it. “Nasty habit.”

  “I won’t have you—”

  “Wait.” Larkin interrupted Moira’s furious spate. “A moment. I’d like to speak with Cian in private. Talk only,” he said before Moira could object. “My word on it.”

  She pushed a hand through her hair. “I don’t have time for either of you, and this foolishness. Be men then, and discuss what is none of your business or concern as if I’m addle-brained. I have to dress and speak to the troops who march today.”

  She strode to the door. “I’ll trust you not to kill each other over my private relationships.”