Passions of the Flame

by Passions of the Flame (NCP) (lit)

  “If no token of the affliction persists, then no forethought ta riskin’ life and limb would be considered the next time danger reared.”

  Stepping closer until he was just a span in distance from Fallon, Kane touched her, his palm coming to rest on her cheek.

  “‘Tis verra wise thinkin’.” He nodded in agreement, admiring this unique woman.

  “A druid must use all bestowed gifts prudently.” Fallon attempted to ignore Kane’s touch upon her face, but to no avail. The heat from his flesh seemed to ensnare her, flowing impressively within her, spreading from her cheek and through the extent of her body in one demanding sweep.

  And though she refused to look at him, through the corner of her eyes she knew his gaze was locked on her face.

  Kane lifted the flower to his nose and inhaled its scent once more.

  Fallon’s attention snapped toward him whilst at the same time his gaze fell to her mouth. With leisurely purpose, he brushed the petals across her lips.

  A tingling sensation caused by the soft petals being stroked across them caused Fallon’s mouth to slacken. She closed her eyes, taking the sensual fragrance deeply into her nostrils, finding it impossible to dissuade the intruding desires and pleasures that began racking all of her at once. It was bad enough Kane alone exhumed these feelings in her, but now, with the addition of the highly erotic whitethorn aroma, her senses became implausibly heightened.

  She yearned to be held by Kane, to be kissed and caressed and taken away to the depths of euphoric ecstasy.

  “Do ye have harmony with the whitethorn tree, Kane?” Fallon whispered.

  Was she swaying?

  “Why do ye ask?” Kane whispered in return, his voice a low, sensual pitch.

  “Ye stroked the sacred branches, appeased the tree before snapping off the bud, more so than the common man would.”

  “The tree is meaningful ta me, aye.” Kane traced Fallon’s cheek with the blossom and then continued along her jaw line. Moving inward, he skimmed the petals along the edge of her lower lip, his gaze tracking its path as he appreciated the exquisite contrast of the white flower against her dark skin.

  In a seductive motion, Kane lightly dragged the bud downward, following the line of Fallon’s throat until he reached the swelling of her breasts.

  Fallon’s head dropped back, and she inhaled a long, languishing breath.

  Kane’s gaze flicked upward resting on her face.

  “I was born beneath the whitethorn moon,” he told her.

  By gods she is beautiful.

  Fallon’s lids fluttered open as her head tipped toward Kane. She nearly caught his gaze, but averted the path of her vision at the last moment. “Then ye know of its legends.”

  It was an honor to be born under the whitethorn sign for the offspring of such a tree were honest and loving and wise.

  “Aye.” Kane smiled warmly at Fallon, noticing she watched his lips as he did so. It was not the same as her looking into his eyes, but he felt affection in her action just the same. “I know that when worn or carried the sprig brings happiness.”

  He tucked the bloom behind Fallon’s left ear and then smoothed admiring fingertips along the length of her long, silky hair, arranging it over her shoulders. “And a child of the whitethorn is ready ta meet any challenge.”

  “The whitethorn is the protector of faeries,” Fallon returned, gulping at Kane’s tender regard. Her heartbeat strummed a pounding tune. It felt as though it was about to burst.

  Kane’s smile grew wider. “Then ‘tis good I have come ta safeguard ye from The Bryan.”

  “Perhaps ‘tis The Bryan who will need the protectin’ from me.”

  Chuckling at her remark, Kane slipped his arms around Fallon, gathering her to him.

  Bending his head, Kane’s mouth met hers. A slight whimper left Fallon’s mouth and Kane felt her lashes flicker against his cheek. He pulled back, but nay, her eyes remained shut. He lowered his mouth to hers once more.

  Yielding to his touch, his taste, Fallon relaxed in his arms, no longer able to deny the impact of Kane Siosal on her being. She was falling in love with him and there was no turning away from it.

  Fallon could not resist.

  Nor could she protest when Kane’s fingers undid the fastener holding her cloak closed and he pushed it from her shoulders, revealing her naked body as the garment dropped to the ground.

  Unabashed at her bareness, Fallon allowed Kane’s hands to roam her flesh, his palms smoothing along her back and over her bottom. He held her to him, shifting his hips against her, the ardor of his hardness increasing her need, inflaming the ache between her thighs with yearning to have him inside of her body.

  A purely male murmur rumbled from Kane’s throat, the desire smoldering as his mouth took Fallon’s in a frenzied claiming, their tongues sweeping one over the other with a heated urgency clearly definable as passion unleashing.

  Kane lowered Fallon to the ground, resting her atop of her cloak.

  And beneath the gleam of the copious moon, to the wispy sounds of a subtle breeze blowing through the brush, and the distant howls of creatures, mortal and mystic, Kane began making love to his faerie woman.

  Chapter Nine

  His hands sought her breasts, caressing them, his thumb skimming over the nipples as they peaked beneath his touch. His lips explored her, kissing her jaw, her neck, the top of her shoulder and then trailing back to her mouth. Her parting lips drew on him, taking his breath and he gave it to her.

  Kane moved to her throat and lower, nuzzling between her breasts, before dragging his tongue across a nipple, and then sucking it into his mouth. He was deeply emboldened by Fallon’s quiet moans and the arching of her back telling him she was begging for more.

  Lower he moved, worshipping her flesh, adoring her navel as his tongue swirled around it. And he kissed her lower still, nipping at her belly and then brushing his mouth along her female mound.

  On a whimper and a request, Fallon’s legs parted, and Kane groaned his reply.

  He tasted her there. Grazing his tongue and suckling the budding of her female flesh. Her scent as intoxicating as the whitethorn flower, he took in her flaming passion, drank of the feast known only to him as Fallon Moireach, the woman he desired.

  She bucked and rubbed against his mouth, and Kane could take no more.

  Rising over Fallon, his knees placed to each side of her hips, Kane unlatched the belt that held his blade and sheath, tossing it aside. He pulled the leine over the top of his head, and then looked down at her.

  She focused on his shaft.

  Her hands came up, one cupping his sack, the other surrounding his jutting erection.

  With earnest she studied it, ran her fingers along its length, felt the smoothness of the skin and its alluring warmth.

  “Have ye ever seen one before, lass?” Kane shuddered, resisting the urge to plunge into her. He wanted the moment to last.

  Fallon’s eyes lifted and roamed about Kane’s face. She looked at his chin, his nose, his hair, coming perilously close to capturing his eyes, but she successfully failed. “I have seen more than I can number.”

  “Ye are no’ untouched?” Kane’s heart fell.

  He was so hoping to be her first lover.

  Releasing a short laugh, Fallon pushed at Kane’s chest urging him back to his haunches and she followed him to a sit. Without hesitation she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the tip of Kane’s shaft drawing a hiss of pleasure from him.

  “Ye are forgettin’, warrior, I am a druid healer,” she returned. “I have seen many men in various states of undress.”

  “Aye,” Kane groaned at her lustful kisses upon his member and the way her voice vibrated on its tip when she answered him.

  “‘Tis their eyes on which I have never set me glance. And nay, I have never given over me body.”

  Reaching for her, Kane dug his fingers through her hair and they both rose up to their knees, their naked bodies coming together into an int
imate press for the very first time.

  “Look inta me eyes, Fallon.” Kane stroked his shaft against her as he whispered in her ear. He nipped her lobe gently. “Invite me in, faerie beauty.”

  “The madness….” Fallon’s head tipped back.

  Her breathing quickened.

  “‘Tis too late.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Twofold I have seen inta yer eyes, and the madness already beseeches me.”

  “Nay.” Fallon frowned, denying that her new lover would go insane.

  “‘Tis in me heart, Fallon.” Kane set his lips upon her worried brow and then took hold of her hand, flattening her palm to the center of his chest. “‘Tis here the madness calls out for ye, lass.”

  Releasing a gasp that was part relief, part delight, Fallon swept her arms around Kane’s neck and pulled his lips to her mouth. She leaned back against his embracing arms, her weight bringing Kane forward, and they reclined to the ground, Kane coming down atop of her, their lips remained locked in a searing kiss and Fallon’s thighs fell apart, taking Kane’s hips between them.

  “Invite me in, beauty.” Kane propped to his forearms and he swept his thumbs across her closed lids. His heart thumped a hardened beat, and he stroked his shaft along her folds, savoring in the feel of her naked flesh pressed beneath him.

  She opened her eyes.

  Her gaze pierced him and Kane was awestruck.

  Sucking in a breath Kane held it.

  Though he requested it, desired it, craved it, her gaze took him unaware.

  Shook him to the core.

  Kane was captured—snared by an enchanting pool of lavender, her eyes ensnared him and refused to let go. Snagged in euphoria, entwined for eternity, he bent his head to kiss her, their eyes remaining locked.

  Hopelessly lost in her splendor, he cradled it, cherished it, breathed it into his soul.

  He could claim her now.

  Lifting his hips, Kane found the path to her opening and he slipped inside of her. She was warm and wet and welcoming, moaning her reception to his taking.

  Gently Kane pushed against the soft, but firm barrier within her.

  Refusing to close his eyes to relish her moist heat, Kane muttered, his voice raspy and uncontrolled, his breathing harsh. He felt her squeeze tightly around him, beckoning him into her.

  He groaned.

  And Fallon waited—for pleasure, for pain, she did not know which, for by legend it was said the female faerie found ecstasy with the breeching, her body surging to an exquisite, forceful peak.

  But her human side might feel tremendous pain and she would bleed.

  Fallon felt both.

  Kane plunged, ripping through her—a burning sensation igniting as she tore.

  Fallon screamed, clinging tightly to him, relieved when it quickly receded, replaced by a burgeoning fire of pleasure that spread through her and rippled along her flesh in a powerful bursting that pushed the human agony of being shredded into an incredible surging of erotic, faerie bliss.

  It flowed through her and ruptured through the breadth of her flesh.

  “Kane!” Fallon’s voice echoed throughout the forests.

  “Mi gabh bhuat neo-chiontach, mi chi sibh a breagha bioreannach,” Kane whispered to her. I take yer innocence and I leave a beautiful woman.

  On a rising cry, Fallon began peaking, her hips moving in a frenzied rhythm with Kane’s increasing thrusts and heavy breathing—her body quaking to a shattering rush, her climax broke through as Kane frantically pumped into her. And not once did she avert her gaze, staring directly into Kane’s eyes, watching with excitement as rapture flooded through him.

  And with a forceful plunge and a heavy growl Kane released his climax inside of her, accepting that it was he who was claimed but welcoming being lost in her forever.

  Kane collapsed, his head dropping, his lips planting kisses on Fallon’s cheek and then paying homage to her mouth. Finally, they both closed their eyes, breaking the intimate gaze that fed their passion, and Kane rolled to his side, dragging Fallon against him. He held her tightly, wrapped his body around her, his hand finding her breast and plying it tenderly, and they listened to the sounds of their passion’s breathing slowly subside into quiet, satiated silence.

  “Kane?” Fallon twisted in his arms looking into his eyes with a gaze that refused to let go of his soul.

  And Kane received it, welcomed it.

  “Aye?” He smiled.

  “‘Twas good?” Fallon asked simply.

  Kane’s smile widened—a warm presentation at her innocent appraisal of their lovemaking act. “‘Twas verra good, Fallon.”

  Fallon returned Kane’s smile and snuggling closer to him, she relaxed in his arms.

  “Well, isn’t this special?”

  Jolted by the sound of The Bryan’s voice, Kane snatched his durk and jumped to his feet pointing the blade toward the faerie, whilst Fallon scampered backwards and away.

  “I should thank you, Gael, for breaking in the druid for me.” The Bryan glared at Kane, a patronizing gleam in his eyes. “It’s such a messy business, debauching a woman, don’t you think?”

  “Be gone, faerie!” Fallon rose to her feet, her line of sight passing beyond where The Bryan stood. “Ye have no dealings here.”

  The Bryan’s mouth turned up on one side. He took liberty in perusing up and down Fallon’s form. And Kane saw his own red aura as his blood began boiling to an angry height. With his eyes still riveted to The Bryan, he bent to snatch up Fallon’s cloak and tossed it to her.

  She swept the garment around her body and then clutched it tightly closed, concealing her nakedness from the faerie’s leering eyes.

  “Your lusty cries were ear-shattering, druid.” The Bryan wriggled a finger in his ear as he snickered. “And the vigorous way your body moved … tell me, did it feel good?”

  Disgust and outrage racked Kane—at the faerie-man’s invasion, at his abhorrent taunts, at the strange way he used his words and the crudeness in them.

  That he intrusively watched Kane and Fallon sharing their passion.

  Raising his blade further, Kane prepared to strike, but with a jerk of The Bryan’s head, the weapon was whisked away from Kane’s clutch. It flew through the air impaling a nearby whitethorn trunk, and Kane could swear he heard the spirits shriek.

  The cut was an insult to the sacred tree, an assault to its glory. The spirits that lived within it would be sorely irate for the disrespect. Ill fortune would be brought down upon all of their heads.

  “For what purpose do ye come here, fae?” Kane demanded. He would never surrender Fallon.

  With a casual strut, The Bryan strolled to the whitethorn. Yanking the blade from it, he examined the weapon, blew a breath on the blade and polished it with his sleeve. “Why to hand over your swag.”

  Kane eyed the faerie-man suspiciously. “What swag do ye speak of?”

  “Your silver.” The Bryan tucked the durk into his belt, looked toward Kane and snickered. “You win. I lose.”

  “What dost he mean?” Fallon questioned.

  “Oh,” The Bryan clucked his tongue. “Perhaps I should’ve kept silent. Of course she wouldn’t know.”

  “Know of what, Kane?” Fallon frowned.

  “Why the wager as to which one of us would bed you first,” The Bryan answered flippantly whilst eyeing Fallon at the same time. His attention shifted back toward Kane. “Did I say too much?”

  “Nay!” Kane growled. “The fae lies!”

  The Bryan responded with a shrug. Turning up his palm, he slashed it through the air in front of him.

  Cullen appeared lying face down in the dirt, and he was completely unclad. Somewhere in the distance and beyond the trees a woman screamed that her lover had been stolen by a faerie.

  Looking up from his prone position, Cullen’s face showed his puzzlement as he glanced first at Fallon and then to Kane. He lifted a brow at Kane’s nudity and was about to speak when he spied the faerie.

  Standing ab
ruptly, Cullen realized his own naked state. And thinking about what he had just been taken from, his confusion turned to discomfiture as he covered his still swollen shaft with one of his hands.

  “The silver, mortal,” The Bryan demanded, and something materialized in Cullen’s other hand—the sack containing the faerie’s coinage.

  Fallon looked on with confusion and dread as The Bryan stalked toward Cullen and snatched the sack of coins from his grasp. Turning, he tossed it through the air, and the sack landed at Kane’s feet, the coinage clinking inside.

  Kane did not pick it up.

  “Nay, Kane,” Fallon gasped with dismay. “Say ‘tis no’ true.”

  With anger in his voice, Kane gainsaid The Bryan’s accusation. “I did no’ wager with ye faerie!”

  “‘Tis a bet I would easily win.” The Bryan’s face went expressionless, his eyes a chilly glare. “Aren’t those your words, Gael?”

  “Did ye say such a thing, Kane?” Fallon’s body quivered with unease. She held her breath as she waited for Kane to answer.

  Doom rent the air.

  It was not a good sign.

  Thinking carefully on his meeting with The Bryan earlier, Kane sifted through the conversation he exchanged with the faerie. He could have chopped off his own tongue with his teeth, his words coming back to haunt him. Kane had said those words, but not in the circumstance that The Bryan was attempting to convey at the moment.

  “Kane?” Fallon gave him a troubled look.

  Turning to her, Kane’s chest wrenched at the worry on her face. “Those be my words Fallon, but….”

  “And did you not say you could match the wager?” The Bryan stepped forward interrupting Kane before he could say more.

  Kane’s body shook with fury as he realized what the faerie-man was attempting to do. He was going to kill the immortal with his bare hands.

  “Ach.” Cullen spit into the ground. “I warned ye ‘twas foolish ta bargain with a faerie.”

  The words hit Fallon’s ears, her eyes snapping to and fro as she thought about all that was being said.

  “‘Tis true?” Fallon asked. “Ye wagered me body for a sack of silver?”

  Fallon shook her head at Kane and her lovely lavender eyes seemed to drain of their luster. Her expression twisted with horror and disbelief.