by Ann Gimpel
I already did that, and he didn’t give up.
That he cared enough to keep trying kindled a warm glow in her midsection. She was drawn to him in a way that both thrilled and mystified her. But the possibility of sharing her life with anyone scared the stuffing out of her.
“Yara.” The single word was laced with entreaty. “Please.”
She’d reached the end of the corridor and faced two choices. Either she scrambled up the ladder and ignored the man closing on her. Or she stopped long enough to find out what he wanted.
Jesus. Who am I kidding? I know what he wants because I want the same thing.
She gripped the sides of the ladder bent on flight, and an ineffable sadness filled her wiping out everything bright and good in her world. Had he cast a spell to make her feel that way? It wasn’t like her to do anything beyond living in the moment. The last eight years hadn’t lent themselves to anything akin to long range planning.
Stewart reached her and stood facing her back, so close the warmth from his body seared her. “Lass. Turn around.” Something thick and desperate lay beneath his words, and she didn’t have it in herself to spurn him. Not when he sounded like that.
Letting go of the handrails, she turned and looked at him. The corridor had very little illumination, so she kindled a mage light. Raw pain twisted his features into a mask of sorrow and hopelessness. Anguish knifed through her, and she extended a hand, cradling the side of his face.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It’s just…”
Just what? What can I say besides I’m a terrible coward?
He leaned into her touch. “No need for apologies. I understand, and better than ye might think. When ye’ve had only yourself to answer to, even contemplating changing that is frightening.”
She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “Let me finish. Regardless of how this conversation goes, ye and I will remain allies. Our two magics complement each other. ’Tis far too potent a combination to not leverage when darkness attacks—and it will. ’Tis out there gathering forces, even if I canna sense it directly.”
Warmth from his stubbled cheek warmed her hand. “Maybe anything between us should wait until we see what happens with the demons and vampires.”
“Aye, and I’ve thought the same, but we may not be alive at the end of what’s coming.” He smiled crookedly. “Ye may be on account of Rhiannon. I suspect if she leaves Earth for one of the other worlds, she’ll take you with her. But I’ve never forgotten I’m mortal. The Celts may have needed me once, but that time is long past.”
She should stop touching him, but she couldn’t make herself move her hand. “I’m not sure you’re right about Rhiannon spiriting me off somewhere. Hell, I might refuse to go even if she wanted me to, but that part doesn’t matter.”
His direct gaze bored into her. “Ye know less than naught about me beyond me hiding what I was in order to travel with the Romani. Mayhap if ye understood a wee bit more, ’twould set some of your fears to rest. Would ye be willing to listen for a small span of time?”
Touched beyond words by how hard he was trying, she nodded, swallowing around a thick place in her throat.
“Druid priests werena bound by celibacy like their Christian counterparts.” He rolled his eyes. “Not that they practiced celibacy, mind ye. Mayhap because ’twas forbidden, they rutted with anything they came across—and all in the name of their god, but ’tisn’t important.
“Even though sex wasna forbidden me, I rarely indulged. Mostly only during the festivals—if then. I always thought I’d find a woman I could love, but it never happened. Centuries passed, and things grew difficult for anyone practicing a non-Christian faith. Came a time when even if I’d found a woman I wanted to take to wife, I’d have walked away because I’d not have willingly placed her at risk. Her or our bairns.
“Once I left Britain and inveigled my way into the Romani culture, I also steered clear of entanglements. I saw plenty of caravan leaders who misused their power that way, and I vowed to not be one of them.”
He took a measured breath. “That brings me to the present. I felt attracted to you the first moment we found you in that forest near the German border.”
“How do you know I didn’t find you?” she countered. “I know that territory well and could have hidden myself if I’d wanted.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She was rubbing the side of his face now, exploring the stark lines of bone and muscle. “I’m not certain it was as formal as my weighing plusses and minuses and coming to a conclusion. If I’d done that, the lot of you would have been long gone.”
“Would ye like to know what I think?” A soft smile played about his chiseled lips.
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me, regardless.”
“Aye, that I am. This may be self-serving on my part, but I lean more toward it being the truth. Ye came out of hiding because of me. Oh, ye dinna know I was there, but ye were drawn to my energy. Mayhap that book of yours made certain ye were in that precise place at the proper time to intercept our group.
“We were only there for a short time. Long enough to dispatch the vampire, and then we’d have been gone.” He angled his head to one side and continued to spear her with his direct gaze.
Yara thought back to the day she’d sensed the others and come out to investigate. She’d been curious—and afraid—but not so fearful she was immobilized. She closed her teeth over her lower lip.
“I sensed the vampire. When I figured out how near it was, I kept a close eye on it. Those things can trap you. I also knew shifters and Romani were moving toward me. An odd energy, one I couldn’t catalog, was there too.” She glanced up shyly. “Turned out that was you.”
“What drew you out of hiding?” He stood so close, heat from him enveloped her, along with his alluring scent.
“I’m not entirely sure. I felt the vampire die and was elated. I had no idea you could kill them. It gave me courage to leave my cave. I planned to remain hidden and just watch from behind some trees, but Aron knew I was there.”
Stewart nodded. “Aye, the lad is surprisingly powerful for one so young. I knew you were there as well, though. ’Twas I who told him.”
Yara’s other hand snaked around Stewart’s shoulder. The need to touch him was overpowering, and she didn’t have the willpower to resist. “I wondered about why I agreed to leave so readily. It’s not like me. Usually, I’m very cautious about anything that changes my life.”
She took a deep breath. “Things have been hard since my sister left. There’s only me, and my survival has depended on being vigilant—and guarded. Ready to take flight the second I sensed something wasn’t right. I had a system in place, but it wouldn’t have taken much for it to blow up in my face. That vampire, for example, would have put a real crimp in things. Normal invisibility spells don’t work predictably with them.”
He smoothed stray hairs away from her face. His fingertips sent small shivers running through her. “You’re so lovely. And we have so little time. I doona wish to speak of vampires.”
“I’d be happy if the lot of them disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“They remained on the sidelines for years. Modern life isna compatible with their magic. It mutes it, much as it does for the rest of us. Hitler and his Reich breathed new life into their abilities, and may they be damned to Hell for all eternity for their meddling.”
He continued to stroke her face. “I said I dinna wish to speak of vampires, and launched into an explanation of their newly risen strength. Apologies. Vampires will bother us soon enough, but I’ll not invite them back into this conversation.”
He cradled her face in his hands, and his magic rose, surrounding them in a warmth that made her long for things she could barely remember. For home and hearth and family. For passion and tenderness. For a world not teetering on the brink of annihilation.
“I would kiss you, lassie, but this time I’m asking, not taking.” His voi
ce rasped with unquenched need. Promise smoldered in the backs of his eyes, twin flames that could kindle and burn them both to cinders.
“I want you too.” The words surprised her. Not so much that she’d said them, but that she wanted his lips on hers more than she’d ever wanted anything.
Stewart angled his head and brushed his lips over hers. Sweet, tentative. Nothing like their last kiss where their bodies had crashed together. She pressed her mouth against his, savoring the contact and increasing the pressure as she bit and nibbled her way from his mouth across one cheek to an earlobe and back again.
This time when she reached his mouth, he slid his hands backward, threading them into her hair and holding her head steady while he urged her to open her mouth for his questing tongue. He tasted of honey wine she remembered from her days with the caravan, and she sucked on his tongue, desperate to inhale all of him.
Her breath quickened, and her nipples peaked where they pressed against his chest. It had been months since she’d lain with a man. Maybe years. Her lifestyle hadn’t been conducive to letting anyone know she existed. Hunger burned through her. Desire for the simple contact of flesh against flesh. For the dance where bodies ruled and minds took a backseat. Heat slicked her women’s parts, and the empty place between her legs screamed to be filled.
He ran his tongue down her neck to the hollow between her collarbones, leaving a trail of hot breath and kisses. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to never let go. A small voice in the back of her mind urged caution, but she shushed it. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but Stewart’s lust was so sharp, so palpable, it carried her along like an inexorable tide.
It’s not just him. I want this or I’d find the strength to break away.
He lifted his head and snared her gaze with his own. “We do this together or not at all. Do ye want me, Yara? Not just for the momentary joy our bodies can bring, but for what I am?”
The timing of his words couldn’t have been coincidental. “You were inside my head.”
“Aye, but only because ye’re the most important thing in the world to me.” He smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. “Ye’re so lovely and so elemental. I’ve waited many lifetimes for you, but this must be right for both of us.”
Yara leaned into his touch, reveling in the press of his body against the length of hers. She turned her mouth upward, hoping for more kisses, but he shook his head.
“Nay. If I start kissing you again, next thing, I’ll have your skirts rucked up, and I doona wish to take you like a common serving wench.” His eyes glittered with promise and danger. “Come with me.”
Desire flashed through her like molten quicksilver. She opened her mouth to say she’d ruck up her skirts in a heartbeat if it would quell the hunger beating a path from her belly to her core, but her throat was too thick to form words, so she just nodded.
The untamed look in his eyes deepened. “I ken well enough, for my cock is so full ’tis a wonder I havena spent holding you. Up the ladder, darling. My cabin is at the verra top of this flight.”
Yara wrenched away from him and started upward. The place he’d been pressed against her felt empty, hollow, but his unique energy pulsed behind her. She wondered which door was his, but one clicked open, unlatched by magic, and she walked through.
The small space was twin to her own except devoid of any belongings. It made sense since she was the only one who’d brought more than the clothes on her back. The door snicked shut and she turned slowly, suddenly shy now they were alone. Because they’d only be in the way, she bent to unlace her boots and kicked them aside.
Heat shimmered around him creating a golden nimbus as he crossed the short distance to her and began pulling pins from her hair. It had half fallen down before, but now it tumbled past her shoulders.
He fingered a curl or two. “Ye have hair that would make any dragon worth his salt weep with envy. ’Tis like a curtain of living flame. And your eyes shade from blue to violet. Right now, they look like amethysts, deep and full of mystery.”
He unwound her cloak from her shoulders and tossed it across the desk. The outline of her nipples had to be clearly visible beneath her thin shirt because he made a decidedly male noise deep in his throat and filled his hands with her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her erect nipples. Leaning forward, he fastened his mouth over hers once again.
A hungry moan ripped from her, so fraught with desire she hardly believed it was her. She’d always been a silent lover, mostly to ensure she wasn’t caught. He twirled her nipples harder and sank his tongue inside her mouth. Sensation spilled through her setting her on fire.
The outline of his cock tented the front of his kilt. Yara reached for him, closing a hand around his ridged flesh. He groaned, and his cock swelled still more, pulsing against her touch. With her other hand, she searched for how to undo the tartan wrapped about him, but if it had buttons or some other fastening, she couldn’t find them.
Their breathing quickened until it filled the room with evidence of their need. Stewart wrenched his mouth from hers and let go of her breasts long enough to snatch her top over her head. He whistled long and low at the sight of her naked breasts and undid the buttons holding her skirt on her hips. It slithered to the floor, and she stepped out of it pushing her soaked panties down her legs in its wake.
Beyond aroused, she reached for his tartan again, intent on removing it, but he pushed her hands away. “Let me. ’Tisn’t difficult, but there’s a trick to it.”
She tried to pay attention, but her mind was mush from wanting him. A twist here, a turn there, and the finely woven, woolen plaid fell to the floor. Next, he drew his shirt off over his head. Breath hitched in her throat as her gaze played over his nakedness. It might have been a trick of his magic, but his skin glowed a rich golden copper. Muscles slabbed his shoulders, arms, and legs, shapely and powerful. His nipples, also copper colored with a fine dusting of red hair around them, were puckered just like hers. Hard and proud, his cock jutted from a mat of tawny curls.
“You’re amazing,” she managed and grinned. “I even like the boots. They’re a nice touch.”
The magic surrounding him intensified, and the laces unwound themselves until he could step out of his stout leather footgear. He held out his arms. “I could look at you forever and die a happy man, but—”
She dove into his arms, cutting off his words. The shock of his body against hers, skin to skin, made her forget everything she’d ever known. None of her lovers had kindled desire so rampant it filled her entire universe with longing. She splayed her hands across his back, tracing lines of bone and muscle until she kneaded his high, firm ass in both hands.
He kissed her with a ferocity that left her even more breathless, and then slammed his consciousness into hers, joining their minds with magic. She saw his yearning for her, felt it with a poignancy that swept all her barriers away.
His cock jumped against her belly, and she couldn’t wait any longer. He crooned to her in Gaelic and swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Two strides brought them to the edge of the low, narrow bunk, and he laid her tenderly atop it. She scooted over to make room for him, and he lay beside her, cradling her against him.
She stroked all of him she could reach. Her fingertips came alive where they connected with his skin, and she couldn’t get enough of him. He was still murmuring Gaelic endearments as he turned her onto her back and slithered to where he could take a nipple into his mouth. He teased and bit until her belly clenched with need, and desire threatened to swamp her. She wanted to kiss him, touch him, lick him, absorb him into herself. Worship him with touch and tongue and her body until she lost track of where he ended and she began.
Squirming into a better position, she reached between them and curled her hand around his cock. It felt even better without layers of wool between it and her fingers, and she teased it from base to tip and back again.
He made the same sound he’d made before, like a big cat on the prowl
, and let go of her breast. “I canna wait, lassie. There isna much room in this bunk. Turn so your back is toward me.”
She fitted her ass into the hollow of his flat stomach and felt the press of his cockhead against the entrance to her body. He pushed inside her slowly, letting her stretch to accommodate his girth. She wriggled to seat him within her. Each tiny movement felt better than the last, and joy cascaded through her.
Reaching around, he rubbed the center of her sensation. Her nub was engorged and slick with her fluids, and she covered his hand with her own, showing him the rhythm she needed. At first, he just twitched his cock where it rested within her, but then he withdrew and plumbed her again and again, moving harder and faster as he rubbed her nub.
Sensation exploded as orgasm caught her up and spun her around. She’d thought he’d come when she did, but he kept on rubbing her, all the while fucking her from behind.
“Ye can do this, Yara. Let yourself go. Come again with me.”
Maybe it was the words, maybe their joined magic, but a second climax seeded itself from the embers of the first one. Time slowed until the world consisted only of their bodies and pleasure blazing through her. His cock shuddered. Jets of scorching semen pushed her over the crest a second time.
He held her tight, hand cupped around her vulva and cock buried inside her body as their panting breaths quieted. His magic ebbed and flowed around them, cradling her in warmth and caring. Yara relaxed into Stewart’s embrace, wanting the enchantment flowing between them to last forever. It might be illusory, but she felt safe in a way she hadn’t since her caravan split up.
A stout knock pounded against the door. Stewart cursed in Gaelic, but then called out, “Cadr. I’ll be topside presently.”
“Sooner rather than later. The coastline’s in sight, but another storm blew up out of nowhere, and it has the stink of magic about it.”