by Anthology
He curled his arms around her and wondered what it would be like to be able to hold her like this every night for the rest of his life.
Chapter Three
Lyra awoke to the most wonderful sensations she’d ever felt. Her body was cocooned in soft silky warmth. The source of the heat lay close to her right side and it felt like a pair of agile lips were caressing the underside of her breast and toying with her nipple.
Her eyes shot open as she realized that she’d been exactly right. She was in a human bed mounded with covers and pillows, and burrowed beneath was a very big, very warm man—who was licking his way around her already swollen and needy breast.
“Cian?”
He responded with a warm chuckle from under the bedding. “I should hope so. Otherwise he’s going to be very angry to find another man in his bed.”
Lyra rolled her eyes but allowed him a tiny laugh. Teasing while lovemaking was a novel experience—it didn’t often go with anonymous quickies on the beach, and a warm happy emotion flooded her heart. “Is it morning yet?”
Cian detached his mouth from her flesh and moved to join her against the pillows. A few of the candles flickered to life, illuminating his face. His dark curls were tousled from sleep and exertion, but she didn’t think any man had ever looked better. “Only in a technical sense. It won’t be dawn for several hours yet.”
“So why are we awake?” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face while she teased. Even now his hands were busy caressing her waist and thighs under the covers.
“I was hungry.”
Goddess, she loved that deep seductive growl.
“I assume you have food in this house.” A tiny giggle escaped her lips as he gave her a fierce mock glower. Then he winked and shot her a wicked grin.
“As a matter of fact…”
He sat up, dislodging the duvet from around their shoulders. Lyra moved closer to Cian’s heated skin to replace the missing warmth. What was he up to now?
Cian muttered a word under his breath, igniting more of the candles. A crystal bowl appeared in his hand, full of some mud-colored substance. After another word, two silver spoons glinted on the bed.
“What is that?” Lyra sat, the chill air forgotten in her curiosity.
“Just a little snack.” He spooned out some of the muck—it really did resemble mud—and held it to her lips. “Taste.”
She’d trusted him this far, and been rewarded beyond her wildest dreams. If he wanted to feed her mud, she’d at least give it a try. Obediently she opened her mouth and took a tiny taste.
Oh! It was the sweetest most delicious mud she’d ever encountered. When the mouthful had melted away, Lyra practically wept. “Ambrosia! What is this?” Eagerly she took the other spoon which Cian held out. She scooped up as much as the spoon would hold and sucked it into her mouth, then used her tongue to lick every last particle off the silver. She squeezed her eyes shut to better savor the rich creamy sweetness.
Cian made a noise somewhere between a strangled groan and a laugh. “That, my dear, is chocolate mousse. My grandmother was here for lunch yesterday, and she has quite a sweet tooth. My housekeeper likes to indulge her with a variety of goodies.”
“Your housekeeper could be a chef to the gods.” She inhaled another bite. “This is the most wonderful thing I have ever tasted.” She’d heard of chocolate, of course, but she’d had relatively few opportunities to sample human cuisine. Now she understood why women craved the stuff.
She had demolished at least a third of the bowl before she noticed he was not eating, but watching her with a fondly amused smile on his handsome face. She paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth.
“Are you not having any?”
He licked his lips. “When you’re finished I’ll have my share. I’ve a mind to eat it from something other than the dish.”
“What do you mean?”
His smoldering gaze made her breath catch in her throat. “Like this.” He took the spoon from her unresisting fingers and turned it toward her chest. Then very carefully, he daubed the rich chocolate cream on the tips of each of her breasts and set the spoon back into the dish.
“Oh.” The mousse was cool and thick. Her nipples hardened instantly at the sensation.
With slow deliberation he set the bowl aside and turned back to Lyra. Her body had frozen in expectation.
Cian lifted one of her heavy breasts and cradled it in his hand, then slowly lowered his mouth to the coated peak. With long, leisurely flicks of his tongue, he cleaned the confection off her nipple, leaving it wet, beaded and aching for more. Then he turned his attention to the other side, laving it with just as much care and precision.
Lyra whimpered at the exquisite beauty of his gentle touch and braced her hands behind her on the pillows for support.
“Ummm—you’re right,” he murmured. “Perfection.” He snaked one long arm back to scoop up a dollop of the mousse on his finger and rubbed it onto her lips. She parted them to lick the creamy treat inside, but before she could, he was there, nibbling the chocolate from her mouth and rubbing his tongue along hers to share the taste.
Distracted by his kiss, she didn’t notice he had stripped the covers completely back and collected even more of the mousse until she felt something cool and wet filling her navel. She tore her lips from his to gasp, but barely had time before he was using his finger to paint a chocolate line down her belly straight to her mound, which he covered with a thick chocolaty coat.
“Mmm. Chocolate mousse has never tasted so good,” he murmured as he moved down. His tongue dipped into her bellybutton, scooping out every drop and tenderly bathing her skin. “Nearly as delicious as you.”
“Be my guest.” She let herself fall back to the pillows and gave herself up to the pleasure he created with his talented hands and mouth.
By the time her mons was completely cleaned, she was whimpering and writhing, desperate to have him touch her even more intimately. Her body’s need for the sustenance of sex was completely absent—he’d more than taken care of that the night before. What she felt now was simple desire for him. Not just for sex, but for Cian. She wanted him in a way she’d never wanted anyone else. It was almost as if— No! It couldn’t be. Sirens didn’t fall in love. It wasn’t allowed. Focusing back on the physical, she lifted her hips off the mattress to meet the first swipe of his tongue between her moistened labia.
“Need more chocolate, right here.” He dipped his finger once more into the bowl and ran it down the seam of her lips, just barely darting inside to flavor her cunt as well.
“Yes,” she moaned.
He knew exactly what she needed—where to touch and when and how hard. He licked away the chocolate, then his tongue delved inside for several long slow tastes.
“Come for me, leannan. I want to watch you this time in the light.” At his words the candles flared to a greater brightness, illuminating the room almost as if it were day. She looked down to see his intense green eyes sparking up at her from between her legs. Then he cast her that wicked smile of his and bent to capture her clit between his lips and suck.
Her orgasm burst so suddenly she hadn’t even felt it coming. Every muscle clenched and fireworks exploded in her body and mind. She cried out his name and tugged at his hair with her hands, desperate to bring him up to kiss her, to bury his rod in her channel. She needed to feel him inside her almost more than she needed to breathe.
Cian must have understood. With a featherlight kiss on her mound, he moved up to cover her, sliding deep into her core with one smooth thrust. He took her mouth in a wet carnal kiss but otherwise held himself motionless until she stopped spasming around his cock. Then he began to move in short powerful strokes. She wrapped her legs up around him, locking her ankles about his waist. Her arms wound around his broad chest and her fingernails dug into his skin as she kissed him back and met him thrust for thrust.
The steady pulse of his strong body into hers drove her higher than she’d ever been. Th
is time she felt the climax beginning in her fingers and toes and coiling into a solid mass at her center. The universe contracted down to include nothing but the two of them and this raw, primitive act. He stretched her to the point of pain, pounded deep and hard against her womb, but she didn’t care. There would be time to be sore tomorrow. The only thing that mattered now was reaching that elusive peak before she expired from sheer sensory overload.
Then the swirling vortex finally sucked her in and time itself ceased to exist. There were no words to describe the rush of raw ecstasy that burst from the core of her and sent her hurtling out to the stars. She thought she heard a shout—it may have been in Gaelic. She may have heard her own voice screaming. She couldn’t be sure. She did feel the hot wet splash of Cian’s seed as he poured his essence into her, claiming her, marking her as his own.
She also felt the warmth of his arms as they enfolded her and rolled her to rest against his chest. She heard him murmur a few words and the sticky chocolate mousse disappeared from sheets and skin. She kissed his shoulder and snuggled her head more comfortably against his neck. For just a few moments as she drifted off, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms night after night—and to wake with him beside her every dawn.
* * * * *
It was late morning when Cian woke again. He immediately felt something lacking but for that first hazy moment he couldn’t get a grip on what.
Lyra. He’d spent half the night lying beside her watching her sleep. Hour after hour he’d pondered how to bridge the gap between their worlds. After only a few short hours she’d become so important that he couldn’t imagine just letting her go without a fight.
So where was she? Her absence was an almost physical pain.
Golden sunlight streamed through the opened drapes and he blinked hard. Ah. Lyra sat on the waist-high marble windowsill, wrapped in his black silk bathrobe. His world settled back into place. She hadn’t left him. Even in the light of day she was stunning. Her eyes, the clear blue-gray of the sea on a cloudy day, gazed at him with an expression both troubled and fond.
“Good morning.” His cock hardened instantly at the sight of her. He inhaled her rich scent which clung to his sheets and his skin.
“Good morning, Cian.” A trace of humor touched her smile. “I take it you slept well.”
“I did.” He rolled to his feet and was by her side in a few quick strides. He pulled her into his arms for a brief but ruthless kiss. They were both breathing hard by the time he stepped away. “I’m sorry if you didn’t.”
“I slept beautifully,” she corrected him. She trailed one finger across his lips then fingered the lapel of the robe. “I only woke a few minutes ago. You seemed so peaceful and the sunshine was too lovely to resist. So I helped myself to the robe.”
“You’re welcome as long as I get to take it off you.” He checked the clock and was relieved to find they had almost two hours left before noon.
“Last night was not enough?” From the way her breathing quickened, he didn’t think she was finished either.
But right now he wanted to be serious for a moment. He leaned against the windowsill took both of her hands in his, then waited until she raised her eyes to his. “Last night was…amazing. And unless I’m very, very, wrong it was out of the ordinary for you as well.” He wanted to say more, but knew it was too soon. He couldn’t possibly have fallen in love during one night of nonstop sex. Except that he had.
She met his gaze and the intensity of her emotions was more blinding than the morning sun. “It was more than extraordinary for me. Nothing, ever, has come close. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. And I mean that literally in this case.” He squeezed her hands and maintained the eye contact so she would know he was serious. “Last night was a wonderful beginning, but it was only a beginning. I want to see you again.” Which was perhaps the greatest understatement he’d ever uttered. He needed to see her again—needed it more than he needed to breathe.
“But…”
“I know it will be complicated. We are neither of us easy creatures. But I’m willing to make the effort. If you’ll have me, I’ll meet you at the rock again tonight. Perhaps we could fly somewhere.”
“Oh, Cian.” Tears welled up in her sea-colored eyes. He could sense her hesitation as she processed all the reasons why they both knew this relationship could never be. And yet, he saw something that looked like hope in her expression. He prayed that she wanted there to be a future for them, that she’d fallen as he had. She shook her head and opened her mouth but no sound came out. Finally she sniffed and nodded. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” Relief rushed through him and weakened his knees. Now at least he would have time to convince her that they could find a way to bridge the gap between their worlds.
He drew her to her feet and into a kiss no less passionate than any that had gone before, though it was infinitely more tender and sweet. Love, he noted in the back of his mind, had a very strange effect on a man, sorcerer or not. “Would you like breakfast or a shower first?” Or sex, though he left that one unspoken, much to the dismay of his cock which prodded against her hip.
“I saw your bathroom,” she admitted, slanting him a flirtatious grin. “The shower has definite…possibilities.”
“It most certainly does. To the shower then.” He bowed and gestured for her to precede him. She dipped a playful curtsey then sashayed into the master bath.
“This reminds me of Rome,” she said, gesturing around at the travertine marble columns that bordered the whirlpool tub. Matching columns formed the stanchions of the glass-walled shower.
“Intentionally so. I love the Roman baths, but don’t tell my grandmother. She thinks poorly of anything that isn’t Irish.” He stepped to the control panel and set the temperature and pressure he wanted then turned to ease the slippery silk robe down her equally smooth shoulders.
“You are close to your family?” She leaned back against his chest, rubbing her lush little ass up against his crotch.
It was an odd time and place to be discussing family, but his need to know Lyra and to have her know him was almost as powerful as his need to make love to her. Aye—make love to her, he admitted silently. Not just to fuck.
Out loud he replied, “To my grandparents. There are only the three of us left. My parents were never true mates, so my mother only lived a short human lifespan. My father died in a wizards’ duel some hundred years ago now.”
“I never knew my father.” Her words held a trace of regret, but no real devastation, for which he was glad. He hated the idea of anything hurting her. “He was just some anonymous sailor. My mother remains among the living, I think. We haven’t seen one another in decades. Sirens very rarely form lasting family attachments.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sorrier than he could say. But she had said rarely rather than never. He could work with that.
She shrugged and turned in his arms, lifting her face to his. “Don’t be. You can’t miss what you’ve never known. I’d like to meet this grandmother of yours someday, though. She sounds fascinating.”
“She is. And I’m sure she’d love to meet you. Grandfather as well.” He couldn’t help thinking of Grandmama’s words from last Yule. “I’ll dance at your wedding within the year.” A lump of emotion caught in his throat. In the course of one night he’d gone from scorn and trepidation to desperately hoping her prediction was accurate. Now all he had to do was convince Lyra, and pray that the Fates would smile on the union and prove them to be true mates on a mystical level.
He opened the shower door and turned her in his arms to enter the steamy chamber. She squealed with delight at the many nozzles that sprayed water from overhead as well as up and down the walls of the shower. After she’d played with the controls for a moment, Cian teleported in a bar of rosemary-scented soap and began to lather her skin with the fragrant suds.
When he turned her to soap her left side, he swore and dro
pped the soap. It couldn’t be! Not so soon.
“Cian, what is it?” She whirled to face him, almost slipping on the soapy tile floor. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” He shook his head, willing his voice not to crack. His fingers traced the green Celtic knot tattoo that twined around the milky-white flesh of her upper left arm—a tattoo that had not been there last evening. Small ruby-red runes were worked into the green band. “Nothing is wrong. In fact, something is very, very right.”
“What?” She followed his gaze down to her arm and yelped. “Where did that come from? Did you…”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not consciously anyway. But look at mine.”
She touched gentle fingers to the runes on his arm. “The markings are red. Yesterday they were black. Now it looks…just like mine.”
“When a sorcerer finds his one true soul mate, the other half of his being, the Fates place a mark on each of them. If they reject their destiny and go on with their lives as if nothing had happened the marks will eventually fade. If they choose to embrace the mating they swear promises to one another and the bond is formed. The two individuals truly become one being.”
“But I’m not a sorceress. I’m not even human.”
A short bark of harsh laughter escaped his lips. “That doesn’t seem to matter.”
“I have to spend at least half of every day in the water.”
“The Fates never promised it would be easy. I had already decided I was willing to do whatever it took to make our relationship work. And that was before I knew about this. All I knew was that I had fallen in love with you last night. This…” He bent and kissed the mark on her arm. “This is just a gift. But it’s up to you whether we accept or reject it.”
“I want to.” She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with doubt and fear—and maybe, he thought—with a tiny kernel of hope. “This mating, this melding of lives—why have I never heard of it?”
