All the Sweet Tomorrows (91 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: All the Sweet Tomorrows
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“Died and left his authority to you, Skye,” Brian said bitterly as his brothers, Shane, Shamus, and Conn, nodded in agreement.

“Ah, that’s what rankles you, isn’t it, Brian? Da left the authority to me. How you would love to be the O’Malley! Well, my little brother, you were barely six when Da died, and our brother Michael, only eight. There was no one else that Da chose to trust. He knew that I would not fail him. Authority, Brian, comes only to those who are willing to accept responsibility, and so far I have seen nothing on the part of any of you to indicate to me that you are willing to grow up! When I see maturity in any one of you, Brian, I promise you that I will pass on my authority. Until then I will continue to keep my faith with our father, may God assoil him.”

Adam sat back quietly in the shadows of a window seat to watch and listen as Skye spoke with her four half-brothers. He understood the frustration the younger men must be feeling, but he was forced to agree with his wife in her judgments. The O’Malley brothers were not capable of handling responsibility.

“Dammit, Skye,” Shamus O’Malley exclaimed, “it’s embarrassing having to answer to a woman! ’Tis all right for children, but we’re grown men!”

“Strange,” Skye murmured. “You chafe under my very light authority over you, but you’re quick to throw in with Grace
O’Malley and her cutthroats. Don’t tell me that our kinswoman doesn’t issue orders to you, for I know if you sail with her you answer to her, Shamus.” She looked piercingly at her four brothers, who shuffled their feet nervously, and then she sat down, waving the men to chairs also. “Tell me, Brian,” she said, looking hard at him, “tell me what you would do if you were the O’Malley of Innisfana?”

A huge grin split his face, and it was obvious that Brian had thought often about being the head of his family. “Why, I’d go apirating with Grace, and I’d fight the damned English right back across the sea to their own puny island! God’s bones, what fun we’d have, eh brothers?!”

Shane and Shamus O’Malley nodded at their elder sibling, and each sported an identical foolish grin upon his broad face. Skye had the incredible urge to hit them, for despite their ages, they were terribly childish.

“How would you feed your peoples while you were gone?” she demanded. “Who would protect Innisfana from our marauding friends and neighbors, not to mention the vengeful English? Having nothing of your own, Brian, what provisions could you make for your family, and all the others for whom you would be responsible? I’ve seen the results of giving you even small authority.”

“What in Hell is that supposed to mean?” Brian shouted.

“It means you wasted all you had, and now you have nothing! You delivered the management of this house into the hands of your wife, a nice enough girl I’ve not a doubt, but a slattern when it comes to household matters! You’ve no judgment, Brian! You don’t look at the long run. You’d run off with Grace O’Malley, leaving Innisfana and its peoples unprotected and poverty-stricken. While you fought the English your neighbors would be making up to them, aiding them and taking your holding in payment for their treacherous service!

“The first rule of survival is to stay out of politics! The second is to avoid a situation in which you cannot win. The English are just that, Brian. Ireland will never be free of them until they can unite beneath the banner of one leader, and I see no hope of that. Therefore your first duty is to survive, and to aid this family in its survival! If you want to be the O’Malley then show me the qualities that make a good leader, Brian. God knows I’ll be glad to pass on my authority! I’m tired of being responsible for you all! I’m tired of having to answer to an English Queen for your behavior, and I want to live my own life free of such encumbrances!
I cannot be quit of you, however, until I am satisfied that you can really be a leader! Until then you’ll obey me, for I am the O’Malley!” She looked directly at them, daring any of them to argue with her, but they avoided her gaze. She knew they resented her, but she also knew that she was right about them.

Suddenly Shane asked, “What do we do then, Skye? If we don’t go pirating with Grace O’Malley, and fight the English, what do we do?”

For the first time that afternoon Skye smiled. Her brother’s plaintive question was what she had been waiting for. She didn’t want to have to order them about. She wanted them to
want
her aid. “Well, Shane, I think that you and your brothers should do what you do best, and obviously that is pirating. However, don’t pirate the English, for they’re not rich enough. The Spanish are.”

“The Spanish?”

“Aye! You want adventure? Then get yourselves letters of marque from the Queen, and harry the dons along the Spanish Main. You’ll rebuild your wealth, and therefore your power base in no time.”

“We need no letters of marque from the English,” Brian boasted. “We can go on our own.”

“That’s up to you, Brian, but go on your own and you’re prey to anyone and
everyone
. Get caught, and you’ll be hung for a common pirate. Carry letters of marque, and you’re protected by a powerful queen, and you’ve powerful allies in every other ship sailing with Bess Tudor’s blessing. Should you get caught by the French or the Dutch, you’re more apt to be ransomed than hung.” She smiled lazily at her eldest brother. “ ’Tis your decision, of course, Brian. Now get out! I’ve said all I am going to for now. I will see you later, for I’ve not come home to go away quickly, little brothers.”

The four men shuffled to their feet and clumped from the room, pausing at the door to pull their boots back on before departing. When the door had closed on them at last, Skye moved across the room to settle herself in Adam’s lap. “Kiss me,” she demanded, and he was happy to comply, covering her mouth with his in a fiery possession that left her breathless. “Hmmmmm,” she purred at him, slipping a hand around to caress the back of his neck.

“Do you really want to be quit of them?” he asked her as she
sent wonderful little shivers down his spine and he moved a hand around to slip into her silk shirt.

“Yes,” she said, and nuzzled him just below his ear.

His hand cupped her breast, the thumb stretching up to tease at the nipple. “What if they don’t take your suggestion?”

Skye gently bit on the lobe of Adam’s ear, and then blew softly into it. “They will,” she said with certainty, loving the warmth of his hand as he cupped her.

“And then what, little girl?” Adam could feel himself beginning to stir with desire as she nestled provocatively against him, kissing his face and neck with wonderful little kisses.

“Then, my lord, we will be finished with the Tudor Queen—
and
her court! We shall go home, wherever that may be, and I shall spend my days being a dutiful chatelaine, and my nights being your own personal wanton!” She turned his head with her fingers and kissed him passionately.

The beast within him leapt forth, crushing her within the iron of his arms, meeting her flaming challenge with a fire of his own that burned hot and fierce. He turned her so that she lay helpless within the enchantment of his embrace, her fair breasts half exposed, their little nipples pushing arrogantly forth to taunt him. With a groan of surrender he buried his face in the perfumed softness of her. “Dammit, Skye, I want you! I cannot get enough of you, and ’tis unkind of you to tempt me so now.”

Skye laughed, and wiggled from his arms. Walking across the room, she turned the key in the lock of the door, and with an almost impish grin she sauntered back across the room to stand before him. Slowly she drew her silk shirt off and slipped from the half-chemise she wore beneath it, letting them fall to the floor. Adam expelled his breath in a slow hiss of delight at the wonders she displayed to him so proudly. She slid her legged skirt over her hips, and removed the remaining undergarments and stockings, rolling the latter down shapely legs that he had viewed a thousand times before and still found beautiful.

Boldly she moved forward to face him, and began undoing his silk shirt while with eager hands he yanked and pulled at the rest of his clothing, anxious to join her in this natural state. Seating him, Skye removed his boots and pulled off his hose. He was quickly as nude as she, and made no resistance when she led him across the room to lie with her on a sheepskin rug before the warm fire.

They clung together, their bodies touching the length of one
another while they kissed, their lips moving softly against each other. He stroked her satiny flesh gently, feeling the desire rise in him as it had the very first time he had touched her, as it always did when they made love. She hovered over him, her breasts brushing his chest as she twined her fingers in and out of the dark mat upon his torso. Her touch incited his passion, and he pulled her against him only to turn her so that now she lay underneath. His lips traveled a tender pathway over her face, pausing at her closed eyelids, her nose, her rose mouth. He kissed a trail down her neck to the throbbing hollow in her throat, and paused there to feel the very blood coursing wildly beneath his lips.

“Sweet Skye, how I love you!” he whispered against her fragrant skin.

“And I love you, my darling husband,” came back the breathless reply. “Oh, Adam! I love you so!”

There had never been a moment in time like this, she thought. Oh yes, there had been others to whom she had given her heart and genuinely loved in their time, but none had been like Adam de Marisco. The others had loved her, but there had always been a pride of possession of her in their love. Niall had been her first love; and Khalid the only safe harbor in a frightening and unremembered world. Geoffrey! Ah, for Geoffrey Southwood, the Angel Earl, with his pride and his arrogance, she had been the only woman he had ever really loved. She had loved him too, she thought with a touch of sadness in her heart. Nicolas St. Adrian, her charming Frenchman, had caught her heart when she most needed him. They had all been marvelous, but Adam was different.

Adam de Marisco had always treated her like his equal, and perhaps that was why he was her friend as well as her husband and her lover. He adored her with a mixture of love and amusement and wonder; but he had always respected her intelligence as well. It made him different from the others. He was proud that she was his wife, but his pride stemmed from the fact that he had been fortunate enough to win her. To all the others she had been a possession to be proud of and to be envied. To Adam she was simply sweet Skye, his beloved wife.

As he slowly filled her with his pulsing manhood she opened her sapphire eyes and took his head in her two hands. Turning him so that their eyes met, she held his gaze as he entered her, her eyes growing ever more full of the love she felt for this wonderful man. There were no words spoken between them, for
their beating hearts spoke silently for them. With tender passion he moved upon her until finally she could bear the sweetness no longer, and her eyes closed again as a soft cry welled up and burst from her throat.

Adam’s own heart was so filled with love for Skye at that moment that he could barely contain his own passions. With wonder he watched her, seeing all the turbulent emotions that played across her beautiful face. Gently he bent his leonine head to kiss her, and tasted the salty tears on her cheeks. That she wept from sheer happiness he understood, yet it moved him just the same.

When moments later she opened her beautiful sapphire eyes again he smiled softly at her, and she smiled back dazzling him with her love for him which shone so clearly in her face.

“How very much I need you, little girl,” he whispered to her.

“How very much I need
you
, my husband,” she returned, and then as he moved them so that they lay on their sides she touched his mouth with a delicate kiss. They were still joined in conjugal embrace, but he had wanted to spare her his weight while they loved, for he was not yet ready to spend. In this half-facing position Skye had one leg between his, and one of Adam’s legs was between hers. It was an intimate position that allowed them to stroke and caress each other freely. Adam enjoyed taking her sensitive little nipples in his mouth from this posture, and sucking long and lovingly upon them.

She began to feel the flames flickering throughout her body once more as he did this, and she ran her hand down his long back to fondle a taut buttock with teasing fingers. “Witch!” he growled at her, nipping playfully on her sentient flesh and beginning to feel his own hunger rising once more. She bit at his earlobe, and then ran her tongue about the shell of his ear, whispering shamelessly to him how he made her feel at this moment. “Oh, my darling, you’re so very big! Why is it I cannot get enough of you, Adam? I love it when you fuck me. Oh darling, don’t stop! Please don’t stop, my love! Ahh! I could go on forever!”

She was his wife, and yet her bold words roused his lust to a furious pitch. He shuddered with passion and ached with the pleasure possessing her gave him. Once more he towered over her, his great manhood thrusting again and again and again into her excited flesh. He vaguely felt her nails raking down his back; heard her excited panting hot in his ear; felt her body writhing beneath him.

Beginning to slip from reality into the golden world of sensual rapture, Skye had a brief, startling thought. It was with Adam as it had been with Geoffrey! Each time it was better. Each time it was more passionate than the last time. If this was her reward for all she had borne then it had been worth it, for to be loved by such a man was worth anything! Then she was caught up in the whirlwind of passion and, flying high, was lost to everything except their love.

“Ah, sweet Skye, you’ve unmanned me!” she heard him cry, and collapsed upon her breasts. Her arms tightened about him as he whimpered with his own pleasure, and she could not help but kiss his tousled dark head.

They lay together for some minutes, attempting to regain their composure. He finally managed to roll off her, and catching her hand in his, they lay silently side by side. Beneath them the thick sheepskin was soft, and the warm fire crackled merrily, the only witness to their passion. Outside they could hear the soft roar of the rising wind about the stone tower house. Everything else was silence.

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