Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire) (21 page)

He lifted his eyes to her face as he ran his tongue over the sensitive flesh of her nipple.
Has there ever been a more beautiful woman?
Her eyes were closed, long lashes lying against golden rose skin flushed with desire, her mouth open in a soft moan of delicious agony. His cock throbbed against her thigh, and he had to catch himself to keep from spilling.

His hands skimmed down over her curves to the warm curls between her legs. His gentle fingers probed her softly, and she opened her legs in encouragement. He found what he was seeking, and he caressed her lightly. Her silken wetness aided him in his quest to pleasure her. He played her relentlessly, lazy feather-light spirals with his fingertip until she gave a sharp cry and arched against his hand, shivering through several peaks.

Tristan caught his breath as he felt the surge rise within him again.
No! Not yet!
He wanted to be in her when he released himself, wanted to claim her as his own with that most intimate of shared moments.

He swung his muscular body over hers and nudged her thighs apart with his. “Will you let me do this? Will you let me love you?”

“Please...” Aislin put an insistent hand on his buttocks, digging in with her fingers, and pulled him to her. With a groan, he pushed himself into her wetness. She wrapped her arms around his waist, broken cries escaping from her lips into his ear. For a second, he couldn’t move. She was hot velvet around him, and he didn’t know how long he was going to last in the grip of such delicious torture.

She began moving her hips suggestively beneath him, urging him into a motion as old as time. He whispered in a husky voice, “If you don’t stop that, this is going to be over before it even starts.” She laughed in his ear, and it sent a delicious shiver through him.

He began to move—slow, lazy, wet strokes in and out of her softness. She goaded him on with breathless words, private and hot. She dug her nails into his back as he began thrusting harder and faster in response.

She arched against him, crying out hoarsely as she came again. There was no holding back this time. The blood pounding in his ears kept time to the pulsing of his cock as he flooded her, her name on his lips like a prayer.

Breathless, he collapsed on her and lay still, his mind reeling.
Now she is mine!
He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her—orchids, rain, and earth. He never wanted to forget this moment as long as he lived.

Chapter Twenty Four

C
ONGRATULATIONS, AISLIN. YOU HAVE JUST
made things worse.

There was a small black smudge on Tristan’s wall, and Aislin stared at it, her mind numb. If only sleep would come and claim her—a blissful, deep sleep that would allow her to escape from everything.

Last night her decision to make love to Tristan had made perfect sense. In the light of day, it seemed like the worst thing she had ever done. When the body got involved, the brain disengaged. She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now.

He woke her up numerous times throughout the night with easy kisses and soft hands, before claiming her with his body again and again. He’d whispered words to her in another language, and she knew they were words of tribute even if she couldn’t understand them.

Her brain threw up its first clear warning: he spoke another language. He’d never done so in front of her. It made her realize how little she really knew about him.

The one thing that was quite clear was that he had an abiding hatred of humans. She and Roderic should be moldering in a grave right now. What had stayed his hand?

Her thoughts immediately went to war within her.

Was it lust?

Lust wouldn’t have shown her around his private garden, patiently given her an archery lesson, wiped blood from her face. Lust would have been brutal and taken with no regard. Lust would have caused
pain
.

Had he fallen in love with her?

She drew a ragged breath and frantically pushed the thought away.

No.
No.
It was impossible.
Impossible.
He didn’t even know her, and there was that human thing. He
hated
humans.

That he might have feelings for her filled her with unreasonable panic. She didn’t
want
him to love her, didn’t need
anyone
to love her. She was strong, capable and in control, both feet planted firmly on the ground of reality.

Except her reality was now the six feet of wickedly gorgeous male elf lying naked beside her. He’d saved her life, and she had given herself to him completely. Everything was going to be different between them from this day forward.

She was sure he would be adamant about keeping her now. There was no way he would ever let her go to Wyndham after last night. They had forged a bond that she could feel down into the very depths of her soul. It made her toes curl just
thinking
about it. He would never agree to put her on a horse and let her ride off into the forest. Ever.

She balled her fists and forced them against her mouth to keep from screaming.

What have I done? What have I done
?

She could feel him stirring beside her. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands. A wave of emotion roiled deep within her, and she started to shake with the power of it. The tears came harder.

I want to go home!

Tristan woke with a start and quickly looked beside him. He was afraid it had all been a lovely dream, but no—there she was, sleeping with her back to him, her smooth toned shoulders peeking out from under the coverlet. He lay back on the pillow with a smile on his face.

She’d been amazing, but he knew she would be. She was all woman, soft and warm, loving him with an intensity he’d never experienced before. He was practically vibrating with contentment.

“Are you awake?” he whispered, but got no response. He rolled toward her, fitting his body to her, and caressed a shoulder. When she didn’t react, he picked himself up on one elbow and looked over into her face.

She was crying quietly into her hands.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Aislin let loose with a full torrent of tears then. He tried to turn her around and pull her into his arms, but she leapt from the bed, pulling part of the coverlet around her.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said to her back. He could see she was shaking.

“What did we just
do
here?”

“What are you talking about?”

She turned to him, clutching the coverlet around her, her eyes flashing. “You hate humans, remember? And yet no one has ever touched me....” She stopped and caught her breath. “... like you did last night. What kind of game are you playing?” Her eyes narrowed. “If you think I’m going to let you amuse yourself with me, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“I’m not playing a game with you! I’m aware that you are a...a...human,” he stammered.

“
Listen
to yourself! You can’t even say the
word
without gagging!”

“You affect me in a way I don’t understand! I can’t explain it, and I don’t care. In fact, I think I’m falling in l...”

“
Don’t
!” she shrieked at him, holding her hands up in front of her as if to defend herself from his words. “Don’t say it! I don’t want to hear you say it!”

Tristan was totally perplexed now. He jumped out of bed and wrapped the sheet around his waist. Aislin looked trapped, hysterical.

“What we did changes everything. It changes
everything
.”

“Yes. It does. I assure you, it wasn’t done lightly, my love,” he said, trying to soothe her.

She blinked, and her face softened a little. Still unsure, but not quite so angry.

He opened his arms to her and took a step forward. “Come. Let me hold you, and we’ll talk.”

She took a step away from him, looking wary. “How did you find me?”

“What?”

“In the forest with Duff. You couldn’t have known that he took me. How did you find me?”

He clenched his jaw. “I have...abilities.”

“I know about your
abilities
. I don’t like them at all. You use them to see things you have no right to see.
No one
should have that kind of power.”

He swallowed hard. Aislin’s eyes were wild, her nostrils flared. She was terrified of him. He had to find a way to calm her.

“Aislin, I never meant to frighten you. Elves have certain abilities, and I used mine to find you. I shake inside when I think of how close I came to losing you.” His voice broke. “I never want to come that close to losing you again.”

A blink made tears chase down her cheeks, but her face softened again. She drew herself up straight, and he got a glimpse of the queen she was born to be.

“I want to go home.”

“I was going to tell you this yesterday, but you weren’t speaking to me. I have decided to take you to Wyndham. I had no right to keep you here. I never should have sent Roderic away without giving you a choice.”

She gave a start and blinked again. “Really? You would do that for me?”

“Yes, I would. I know you’re very angry with me, and I don’t blame you. But please... make peace with me, my love.”

She regarded him silently. He could see she was fighting a war within herself.

“I
should
be furiously angry with you. I
want
to be furiously angry with you. I don’t know why I am
not
furiously angry with you.”

Tristan grinned, just a little, and opened his arms again. “Can you forgive me?”

“I can forgive you on one condition—that you’re completely honest with me from now on about everything. And I mean
everything
. There are many things you aren’t telling me, elf, and I swear if you’re not truthful with me...”

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. He knew what she wanted from him. It troubled him greatly. He was still unsure about sharing it with her, but he’d put her in extreme danger by not being honest with her in the first place. After what she’d just been through, she deserved an explanation.

“Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll tell you the whole story of the Sylvan people, from beginning to end.”

Finished with her bath, Aislin sat at the mirrored vanity and rubbed her hand over her cheek. The bruise was an ugly black purple now, and it covered most of the right side of her face.

Tristan put his hand on her shoulder and knelt down behind her, gazing at her in the mirror. “He really hit you hard.”

She nodded. “Not once, but twice.” She had fallen off horses and out of trees many times, had gotten more bumps, cuts and bruises than she cared to think about, but no one had ever intentionally hurt her like that.

Tristan swore under his breath.

“I’m pretty sturdy. I was forever falling off a horse when I was young, and Roderic used to tell me I bounced when I hit the ground.” She tried to smile, and winced instead.

Tristan drew her into his arms and kissed her other cheek. He stood for a long moment, just caressing her hair. He was warm and gentle, and she was content to let him hold her.

Sighing, he walked her to the sitting room and sat her down on the chaise. He pulled a chair up to sit in front of her and took her hands in his. He was visibly nervous as he sat down, and she felt guilty. This was obviously going to be very hard for him.

“Look...Tristan...if your past is that painful for you, you really don’t have to tell me right now. I want to know, but this should be on
your
terms, not mine.”

Tristan traced a gentle finger along her bottom lip. “No. You deserve to know.” He took a deep breath, and began.

“The Sylvan lived on the forested edges of Elinbourne for generations. I was born there; my father, Elvor, was chieftain. We were over one thousand strong then. We had co-existed peacefully with humans for centuries, trading with them for horses and other goods. While we didn’t show ourselves often, when there was an open market in the village at Elinbourne, we didn’t hesitate to go.”

“The king of Elinbourne—I don’t remember his name—died around 1569. His daughter, Madaheth, was crowned queen, as he had no sons. Madaheth was beautiful, and many men pursued her, but she chose to remain unmarried. She loved the attention her beauty brought her, and she played her lovers one against another for her favors.”

“As with most things, Madaheth’s beauty did not last. As she grew older, the men stopped coming to see her, and she sat alone in her castle. She grew desperate to regain her youth, to find some way to restore her lost beauty. She wanted to live forever, and she put her best advisors and physicians on the trail of a potion to make her young again.”

“Does such a thing exist?” asked Aislin.

“It does now,” said Tristan. “I can’t tell you who among them was the first to notice that the Sylvan lived a long time, and aged very slowly compared to humans. I only remember that the first to disappear was the daughter of Dorcas and Valen. She was very small. They must have thought she’d be easy to take from her parents in the crowds of the market.” He stopped and choked with anger. “They searched for months and found no trace of her. Her parents were heartbroken—they had no other children.”

Aislin was horrorstruck. “I don’t need to hear this today.”