Faerie Fate (23 page)

Riordan jabbed Gair
in the ribs. “Babies,” he crowed. “Grand, glorious babies the like this clann
has never seen, nor will likely ever see again. And we’ll live to see it, Gair.
Aye, we’ll live to see it.”

Niall and Siobhan,
with Eachan and Taidhg close behind, joined Riordan and the steward. Siobhan’s
face was wet with happy tears, and the men grinned from ear to ear.

“Do you come
willingly into my keep as my bride, to live and love, now and forever?” Ciaran
asked formally.

Becca kissed him
deeply before replying. “Aye,” she sighed. “I do.”

A shout erupted from
every throat. “MacDermot!” the gathered clann roared.

Ciaran looked down
at Becca, his gaze tender and sweet. Until he noticed one long, bare leg
peeking from beneath his mantle. His gut clinched in anticipation, and his cock
strained against the leather of his trews. He couldn’t wait to wrap her legs
around his middle as he thrust into the very heart of her. His mouth descended
upon hers, utterly devouring it. He sucked her tongue into his mouth where it
dueled with his own. Blindly, he climbed the stairs still kissing her.

As the couple
disappeared at the top of the stairs, Niall grabbed Siobhan and kissed her. He
guided her hand to his groin. His own
boidín
was straining against the
laces of his trews. “If he doesn’t tup her soon, the whole castle will go up in
flames,” he whispered against her willing mouth.

“I’m willing to
douse your flames,” Siobhan replied with a husky chuckle.

The two made their
way through the crowd filling the great hall and drifted up the stairs, never
taking their eyes off each other.

Riordan turned to
Gair. “
’
Tis time to celebrate,” he told the steward. “Food and drink for
all!”

Little Alys appeared
at Riordan’s side, and he swept her into his arms, sealing his mouth to hers in
a deep kiss. “Patience and faith,” he told her breathlessly, gazing into her
soft azure eyes.

She smiled at him,
dimples appearing in her cheeks. Boldly, she let her hand trail across his
stomach, then lower where his trews were hard. Riordan sucked in his breath. “I
know a man who needs tupping,” she told him, her lips pursed in sassy
invitation.

“Aye,” Riordan
agreed. They, too, slipped up the stairs arm-in-arm.

“Thank the gods
that’s over,” Eachan told Taidhg.

The old soldier
nodded at the horse master, and the two of them moved out of the way as trays
of food and pitchers of drink appeared from the kitchens and from outside as
well. The whole crowd milled about, either in the great hall or in the
courtyard outside. By morning, the whole lot would be roundly drunk. Not
wanting to waste a moment, the two men grabbed mugs from a tray and tossed back
the ale.

“To the faerie,”
Taidhg said, spilling the last swallow of his mug on the floor.

“Aye,” Eachan
agreed, following suit. “To
An Tuatha dé Danaan.”

Chapter Nineteen

The closed door to
his chamber proved problematic with his arms full of Becca. Ciaran couldn’t get
it open. Becca squirmed against him, and the mantle she wore gaped open,
revealing her lush, firm breasts. Ciaran sucked in air. If he didn’t get out of
his trews immediately, he was going to strangle. She wrapped her arms around
his neck, kissing him fiercely, her teeth nipping and pulling at his lower lip
as her tongue darted into his mouth. She wrapped her luscious legs around his
waist, and Ciaran groaned. His
boidín
grew even harder, thicker, and longer.
At least his hands were free, and he could get the door open.

Once inside the
room, he kicked the door shut and stumbled to the bed. The two of them fell on
top of it in a tangle of arms and legs. Through all the long lonely nights,
Ciaran had dreamed of this moment, Becca had always been fully dressed and he’d
taken his time to undress her one lace, one piece of clothing at a time,
pausing to kiss and suckle to arouse her beyond distraction. Now, as she lay
beneath him, her body was open to his adoration. Her hands fumbled at the laces
on his trews and he moaned, but he grabbed her hands away and held them above
her head.

“Let me look at you,
Becca,” he whispered. “For this moment in time, let me just look at you and
worship you as you deserve.”

She sighed. She
didn’t want to be worshipped, she wanted to be loved. She wanted her hands on
his body, touching and inflaming him, as his hands did to hers. Slowly, Ciaran
lowered his head and his mouth claimed the rosy tip of her breast. She arched
against him. His tongue teased her nipple, flicking the now hardened tip, then
swirling around the rosy areola. He loosened one of her hands so his hand could
be free to explore.

His hard, strong
fingers closed on her other breast, and Becca panted. “Yes,” she sighed, as his
thumb piqued her nipple, and his hand cupped her. “Oh, yes.”

He let his tongue
wander down and across the valley between her breasts, then lower still,
trailing across her ribs and seeking her belly button. His hair spilled across
her shoulders and chest, and the soft tickle almost drove her insane. Her hips
bucked. He raised his head and smiled, wicked lights glinting in his eyes.

“All in due time,
cailín,” he promised. “All in due time.”

Becca could feel the
hard evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh, and that wasn’t where
she wanted it. She wanted him squarely between her legs, and she wanted him
there now. She had waited too many lifetimes for this moment. She squirmed,
trying to maneuver beneath his heavy weight. He laughed, wrapping a massive arm
around her hips.

“Lie still, Becca,”
he ordered, his voice roughened by desire. His tongue strayed across her
hipbone and into the soft skin where her thigh met her abdomen. He nuzzled that
area, then slipped his hand between her legs, smiling when he found liquid heat
waiting for him.
Aye,
she’s ready for me.
His cheek nudged her
leg, and Becca spread wider for him.

He knelt between her
knees, his hands on her hips. He smiled, his full mouth curling at the corners,
while his eyes glinted with a flash of diamonds in their sapphire depths. “I
have much to teach you, Becca, and the first lesson is your pleasure.”

She watched in
fascination as his head dropped between her legs. She choked back a scream as
his tongue found the nub at the entrance to her slick folds. His lips teased,
and his tongue lapped her nether lips, kissing them before his tongue sought
the very core of her. Ciaran’s finger replaced his tongue, and he gently
inserted it into her waiting sheath. She was hot and wet and ready for him, but
he was not ready for her. He wanted her too much, and his
boidín
was
large, much too large for the virgin he knew her to be. Ciaran had to slow down
and take his time preparing her for his entrance. He would not hurt her this
first time, nor at any time. He wanted only to bring her pleasure for the rest
of their days.

When she relaxed
against his one finger and the press of his hand, he pulled it out, and she
whimpered. Ciaran smiled. He inserted two fingers, and Becca gasped. She pushed
against his hand, rolling her hips from one side to the other, in exactly the
response he sought.

“Please,” she
begged.

With two fingers and
then three, Ciaran caressed and stretched her, marveling at her body’s reaction
to his invasion. Becca’s whole body was flushed, and her nipples taut buds as
she writhed against his hand. “Yes, love,” he encouraged her.

Becca spiraled out
of control. Waves of heat, generated by his hand, washed across her body. Her
muscles clamped around his fingers, pulling and caressing. Wanting more.
Wanting him. Her hands found his face, and she pulled his mouth down to meet
hers. “Kiss me,” she implored.

He did. Hard and
demanding, his tongue mimicking in her mouth what his hand and fingers did
between her thighs. He felt her sharply indrawn breath, which she held for a
long moment, and then the shudders began.

Like a ticking bomb
reaching critical mass, every part of her exploded, beginning in her center and
spreading out to the ends of her fingers and toes. “Ahhh.” Her breath hitched
in her chest as another shudder consumed her, turning her sigh into a whimper.

Ciaran groaned as
she quivered against him. Even though his
boidín
was still hidden in his
trews, he almost spilled his seed. “
’
Tis but the first of many,” he
promised.

She’d never felt so
alive, so aware of her body. Rather than sating her, his foreplay just whetted
her appetite. She wanted him, all of him, buried deep within her. She wanted
him
to bring her back to that dazzling place she’d just been. She pushed at his
hard chest and rolled away from him.

“Turnabout is fair
play,” she purred at him, one eyebrow cocked as she favored him with a smile.

She pushed him back
on the bed and straddled his midsection.

He groaned. She
leaned over to kiss him, her hair trailing across his chest. Her lips nipped
his bottom lip, and then her mouth sucked his tongue into it.

He wrapped his arms
around her, savoring the feel of her taut nipples pressed against his chest.

Becca kissed him
long and hard, and as much as she loved his mouth, she wanted to explore his
body, tasting and savoring. Her tongue found a path along his strong jaw. She
traced the line of it to his ear. Nipping and suckling, she pulled on his
earlobe with gentle teeth, blowing softly, pleased when she felt his whole body
shuddered beneath her.

She nuzzled the soft
skin at his pulse point and rubbed her smooth cheek against the shadow-bearded
roughness of his. She rained kisses down his neck and across his chest,
bestowing attention on each of his nipples. Her head dipped, her tongue
following the fine feathering of hair down the center of his abdomen.

Strong hands gripped
her biceps, but she put him off, her voice both tender and determined. “Fair is
fair, Ciaran. I have waited just as long as you have, and now it is your turn.”
She looked as smug as a cat licking cream off her lips.

He smiled, knowing
how headstrong she was. Her silken hair trailed lower down his abdomen setting
his skin on fire. Her fingers found and defined each muscle along his ribs and
abdomen. She kissed the scar just above his hipbone before her tongue and lips
went back to find the downy dusting of hair sprinkled across his chest. Once
again, her tongue tracked to the trail arrowing to his belly button—and lower.
Her hands kneaded his hips as her tongue followed the dark trace until it
disappeared into his trews.

With sure fingers,
Becca unlaced his trews, and his erection eagerly spilled out. Ciaran managed
to kick off his boots as Becca curled her fingers into the waistband and peeled
the tight garment from him.

With his trews
finally off, she sat between his feet staring at him in awe. “Oh, my God,” she
whispered. “You are magnificent.” She licked her lips in anticipation.

Ciaran’s gut
clenched, his gaze following the pink tip of her tongue. He gulped.

She skimmed her
fingers up his muscled legs, her touch as light as a feather. Curious, her hand
shaking a tiny bit, she cupped the sac beneath his erection
.
When her
touch elicited a sharply indrawn breath, she smirked. Using only one finger,
she skimmed her nail up the ridged underside of his cock.
Silken steel
,
Becca thought as her hand wrapped around the thick evidence of his virility.
She wondered how anything so hard could feel so soft and smooth beneath her
touch. Becca trembled, a tiny aftershock going off in her middle. Soon, what
she held in her hand was going to be right where she wanted it, and she could
barely contain herself.

She bent her head to
taste him. Her tongue swirled around the tip as if she was tasting an ice-cream
cone. Except this cone was formed with fire and heat, not ice and cold. Ciaran
groaned and went rigid beneath her. She felt him grow even more beneath her
hand—longer, stiffer, thicker. Her lips replaced her tongue, and she drew him
into the moist satin of her mouth.

Ciaran thought his
cock would burst if it got any harder. He had to bury himself in Becca, and he
had to do it now. They would have lifetimes to explore and tease one another.
Now, his need was as elemental as life itself. His hands fisted in her silken
hair and he dragged her head up. Kissing her hard enough to bruise her lips and
steal the breath from her body, he rolled them over.

“Now,” he growled.
“I will have you.”

Becca sighed.
“Finally,” she agreed, the word escaping from her mouth to his.

She spread her legs
and Ciaran fitted himself between them. As he’d once suspected, her hips were
made to cradle a man.
Not just any man,
Ciaran amended silently.
Me!
He would be her first and her last. His smooth tip hovered at her sweet
entrance and she squirmed, trying to fit them together. “
’
Twill prick
but just a bit,” he whispered into her mouth.

Ciaran used his hand
to ensure she was hot and wet, and still ready for him. She pushed against his
hand, panting into his mouth as he kissed her. He guided his
boidín
into
her core, where it was surrounded immediately by slick, pulsing silk. Ciaran
pushed into her, wanting to be gentle, and stopping so her muscles could relax
to accommodate him.

“Bugger this,” Becca
cried. She grabbed his buttocks with both hands and arched into him, driving
him deep into her center. There was momentary pain and tears glistened at the
corner of her eyes, but for the first time in her life, in all of her lives,
Becca felt complete.

Ciaran lay still,
buried deep within her. Afraid to move. Afraid of spilling his seed too soon.
He kissed the tears from her eyes, most of his weight propped up on his elbows
so his mass wouldn’t crush her. He brushed a tendril of golden hair back from
her forehead. “I dinnit want to hurt yee, cailín,” he murmured.

Becca kissed the
hollow of his shoulder. “Nay,” she argued, her eyes glinting with mischievous
lights as her mouth formed a teasing pout. “You’d have taken all bloody night
to do the deed.”

He grinned at her
impudence, once more in control. He pulled back, his shaft retreating from her.
She groaned and tried to hold him in her. He drove into her, and she cried out,
this time in relief. Slowly, he withdrew again and the muscles in her sheath
tightened, trying to hold him inside her. He pushed back, keeping his thrusts
slow and sure as he rocked inside her. With each withdrawal and answering
plunge, her hips rose to meet him. Then her tempo changed. No longer slow and
easy, Becca pushed against him, urging him deeper and deeper, wanting him
harder and faster.

Their breaths
escaped from their lungs in gasps. Her sheath was hot and wet, and the sweet
honey of her liquid passion trickled down Ciaran’s thigh. Her legs wrapped
around his waist, and he put his hands under her hips, tilting her pelvis up so
he could drive deeper and harder still.

Shooting stars
gathered in Becca’s middle, and skyrockets went off behind her eyelids. She
moaned in delight, her body gathering in on itself, the relentless waves of
pleasure building to a crescendo she could no longer endure. “Please,” she
beseeched.

His
boidín
throbbed and felt like it was going to explode. The silken sides of her sheath
stroked and caressed him, driving him mad with the sensation of liquid fire.
When her plea reached his brain, the stars themselves exploded. He buried
himself deep as he gathered her into his arms. His very life pumped out of him
into her. She opened wide to receive him, then gathered him close to keep him.

Feeling his seed
pumping into her, finally sent Becca over the edge, the pain and the pleasure
all mixed together. She lay whimpering in his arms, knowing joy beyond all
bounds, and completely awed by the experience.

Ciaran brushed soft
tendrils of hair back from her face and kissed her cheeks, her forehead, and
her eyes—trying to comfort her. “Did I hurt you, cailín?” His voice was taut
with fear. He’d not wanted to hurt her, had only wanted to bring her pleasure
this first time, but he knew he’d been too rough, too demanding.