He drew back, yet his mouth still whispered over hers, nipping and tasting.
"I need you, Siobhàn, not just in our bed. I…" He swallowed. "I need you to keep my secrets too."
"I will," she promised and pulled him harder to her, hurting inside for him, to be the wife he needed, to have a mate who would listen to her private worries, to care when she was troubled, and give her tenderness and passion without making her feel ashamed of her desires. Again, she marveled at the complicated man unfolding before her eyes. He was more than she expected and Siobhàn craved him, his companionship, his touch. He made her feel feminine and beautiful and deliciously wicked with his daring words and seductive threats.
Lost in her kiss, Gaelan felt her fidget and looked down as she removed her girdle and tossed it on the grass.
"What are you doing?" His words came tightly laced with tension.
"Taking me a needed swim." She retreated enough to pull her gown up to her hips, her intention clear, yet Gaelan stopped her, glancing around at the terrain, at the fortress off in the distance.
"Are you mad, woman?" She smiled, her body tempting him more than her grin. "A swim you said, not to parade the countryside naked!" God above, he could not look at her like this and not want to have her.
"I'm not paradin', my lord. And did you think I would swim in me gown?" She jerked the garment off and flung it in his face. Spinning away, she dove, and Gaelan dragged the garment from his head and searched the water. Only the flow from the mountains rippled the current and his heart pounded. He stepped into the water and she burst through the surface like a fish, her shift clinging to her skin as if she was bare. Smoothing her hair back, Siobhàn smiled at him, splashing him once, twice. His eyes warned her of more than a water fight coming.
And Siobhàn wanted it, wanted him.
Like a water sprite, she walked from the water, each step revealing her splendor until she stopped before him. Gaelan's gaze searched her features, her smoldering eyes, and she took a step farther, bringing another fracture in his armor. He did not touch her, afraid he would hurt her, his need of her clenching his muscles, laboring his breathing. His hands folded into fists as he stared at her. Her pale skin was rosy, her breasts peaking hard against the wet shift. A feathery mist swirled over her skin and his gaze raked her over and over.
Gaelan felt himself come apart, the courage and restraint he'd learned in battle splintering. "I cannot look at you and not want you, Siobhàn. Why do you torture me like this?"
"I do not seek to torture you, my lord." She moved past him, dragging her gown from where it hung on his shoulder and moving to the seclusion of the trees and shrubs.
He still stood on the banks, his back to her, his hands on his hips.
"Come to me, husband."
He whipped around, his stare scorching over her as she lowered to the ground, her figure hidden by the trees and bushes.
Gaelan swallowed, his mouth dry. She lifted her hand and he walked to her on unsteady feet, then sank to his knees with a jolt. He stared, his gaze raking over her, the wet muslin shaping her beautiful body in a veil of seduction.
Water pearled on her skin.
"I do not have to trust you to want you, PenDragon." She inched closer, her hands flattening over his chest, the threadbare lawn shirt. "Come to me," she whispered, leaning to touch her lips to his throat as she pulled the fabric from his braies. "Give me again what you gave me two nights past." Her lashes swept up, revealing blue-green eyes snapping with hidden fire. "This time I take from you." Her hands slid under the folds of his shirt, mapping the contours of his chest, her nails rasping over his nipples as she pushed it up. "For I wish to taste you."
Gaelan searched her face. "Out here?"
"Aye." She helped the shirt off over his head, dropping it to the ground, and Gaelan was seeing the hunger she'd suppressed, the need for him she'd smothered in aloofness. Her eyes looked everywhere, pleasure giving and taking in one sweep, her hands moving over his chest with a fascination that stirred him beyond thought. Then she leaned close, her tongue circling a flat coin nipple and he gripped her waist, dropping his head back as heat ground through him.
"We could be seen and I would want to savor this." Gaelan's hand moved over the slope of her hips to cup her buttocks, knead the soft flesh.
"But I want now," she pleaded, her fingers hovering at the edge of his braies. His muscles convulsed beneath her touch. "I want to touch you as you did me."
He met her gaze, his body pulsing savagely, blood rushing through his veins. "You do and I will not last, Siobhàn." His touch rode wildly over her buttocks, her spine, palming her breasts.
"But can you stop me?" Her small hand dipped inside his braies and enfolded his hard flesh. Gaelan jerked and moaned, crushing her to him as she stroked him warmly, her fingers slicking over the velvety tip of him. He trembled violently, his groan almost an agonized roar.
"Oh, God."
She manipulated his hard flesh as she whispered hotly against his mouth, "I find I have an appetite for the dragon, husband." She licked his lips and his ragged breath tumbled into her mouth. "Come. Satisfy it."
* * *
Chapter 17
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The seams of his hungry soul split at the softly spoken demand. An eternity of unbridled pleasure passed before he gathered his thoughts and met her gaze, snatching her hand away from his arousal. "You are certain of this?"
"You tease me for days and ask that?" She nipped at his lips, his throat.
His eyes slammed shut, his breathing ragged. The anticipation would surely kill him. "I do not want what you do not wish to give me, Siobhàn."
"I plan to take, PenDragon—" Her tongue snaked over his nipple as she loosed his hold. "Mayhaps I was not clear?" Her hand dove again, her fingers sliding mercilessly over his erection.
"Aye—oh, sweet Jesu, woman." He pried her hand from him, a warning in his eyes. "Want me to slam into you and not please you?"
His excitement was hers, coating her, arousing her with the power of it. "You please me with your trembling, my lord." Without hesitation she climbed onto his lap, her moist flesh pressing hotly to his hardness, and Gaelan caught her jaw in his broad palms, the threads of his restraint snapping as he kissed her, a dark plundering of lips and tongue that ignited the passion to glorious heights.
She rocked against him, her body begging for more, and his hands rode down her shoulders, her arms, sweeping around to cup her buttocks and grind her to him.
"Someone could come upon us," he said, even as he hurriedly peeled her wet shift off over her head. Her arms above her head, he looked his fill of her swelling breasts, her naked belly and the dark red tuft between.
"I know." Her smile was catlike, wicked, as her hands floated to his shoulders. He cupped her breasts, kneading them, and she leaned back, offering him more. Gaelan bent to wrap his lips around her nipple and suck the tender tip deep into the heat of his mouth. She arched and gasped, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders. He held her suspended, bent back over his strong arms, his mouth torturing her bosom with heated kisses, his teeth scoring lightly over the soft cushiony underside.
The velvety tip of him slicked her and he growled like a beast, pushing her to her back, his hip spreading her.
Still she played. "I want to taste you as you did me."
"Nay, Siobhàn, and if you do not cease your squirming I will come now."
"Come where?" she teased.
She rolled him easily onto his back and straddled him, her hair a red veil of privacy as her mouth played over his throat, his chest. She suckled and stroked, molding the carved muscles of his chest, the ridges of his stomach. She met his gaze, her eyes darkening with seduction as she pushed his braies farther down, releasing him fully.
"Siobhàn. Siobhàn, nay, lass." He pleaded, even as she bent to him, taking him into her mouth. He flinched violently, curling up to watch and feel and absorb this woman unleashing her passion on him. His heart thundered
so hard he swore she could hear it, his body bleeding with fiery sensations, demanding that he toss her to the ground and pound into her. But her pleasure, the feel of her flesh brushing over his, was a prize he would savor and cherish, her surrender a step to winning her trust.
Her mouth played. He thickened and hardened, and he called her name over and over, begging her to cease and let him pleasure her. But she refused, her tongue sliding, her lips pulling until he was too near exploding to care, yet he did. He wanted her, her, and caught her beneath the arms, dragging her over him, thrilling at the feel of every inch of her laid bare to his touch.
Her skin was on fire, pure heat against the cool air.
His broad hands mapped her contours, hands coarse with calluses, fashioned to wield a sword and crossbow, an ax and a javelin—hard, unyielding. Yet when he held her, the sensations of war turned to vapor and he knew he held a woman, ripely shaped, soft, with skin of silk and tasting of honey. His life was battle, survival and conquer, yet here she was the victor, leaving him vanquished and weak.
And he cherished it, wanted more of it, a willing prisoner to her power.
No woman had ever touched him as she did. No woman gave of herself in a single kiss, in a tiny stroke of his flesh, and Gaelan knew he would do aught to keep this woman his, close and private and in possession of his soul.
In the seclusion of a tiny dale, she abandoned the cloak of her position. Hidden beneath the shade of trees, the wall of shrubbery still thin from the winter's cold, she spread her thighs, toeing his braies further down with an eagerness that stirred him to explosion. When she rose up, sliding, slicking him, Gaelan could stand no more.
He sat up sharply, grinning at her started look, his arousal pushing between her thighs, seeking the warm nest, and he reached between their bodies, his gaze never leaving hers as he guided himself deeper into her. He filled her, loving the flare of her eyes, the way her tongue passed over her lips, the breathy pants … and the feminine muscles flexing wetly around him.
"Oh—oh—husband," she repeated over and over and threw her head back, gripping his shoulders and he shoved upward, sheathing himself to the hilt. Gaelan groaned, his body quaking.
Suddenly he pulled her hard against him, chest to breast, taking her mouth with all the heat and raw desire grinding through him. Her arms wrapped his neck and he gave her hips sweet motion, lifting her and lowering her, obliging the impatient whimpers of his bride. He could feel her body pawing his. He heard her whispers of encouragement, the telltale signs he was just beginning to know; a tuck of her hips, a fractured breath.
Then she spoke, whispering how delicious he felt inside her, that she could feel him throbbing, his blood pulsing, her words bold and meant to drive him mad. And they did.
He yanked her legs around his hips and pushed her to her back on the soft mossy earth, bracing his weight on his arms. He shoved and withdrew, his mouth whispering an apology, yet she gripped his hips and demanded more of his long torturous strokes. Her heels dug into the cushiony ground, her hips rising to greet his. The cadence buffeted, smooth motion, and Gaelan gazed into her eyes, watching her rapture climb to a peak.
Her eyes never closed, looking over him, watching his body disappear into hers. And each time, she bit her lower lip to hold back a cry.
"Let me hear you, princess."
She did, her gasps coloring the air, her emotions cresting with the tightness peeling through her undulating body. Delicate muscles gripped him.
Gaelan plunged, taking her mouth, wanting to taste her pleasure on his lips.
"My lord!"
He chuckled and she pounded his shoulders, then cupped his buttocks and drove him deeper. He retreated and plunged, tight and hard and spearing.
Gaelan conquered, only here, only now.
Siobhàn surrendered, receiving him, skin to bare skin.
Carved bronze against ivory silk.
Seeking, seeking, hastening toward the prize.
Then they found it, the clash shattering, swelling.
He drove her across the earth and touched her soul, and she arched, bowing beautifully beneath him, her fingertips digging into his chest as he slammed into her, once twice, and she cried out, scattering birds from the trees and begging for more. Gaelan gave, unable to contain even a shred of restraint and threw his head back, pleasure roaring through him like a caged beast set free.
Siobhàn felt his climax skip through her, every cell breaking, his throbbing arousal elongating to spill his seed into her. The hard base of him pressed and rubbed, sending exquisite convulsions down to her toes and she flinched over and over, taking all he had and finding her rapture in his release. She held his gaze, watching it, the flutter of his lashes, the softening of his creased features, the blaze in his eyes as she held him vulnerable inside her.
Suspended on the edge, Gaelan couldn't move, wracked with tremors trapping him in the grip of desire. He stared at her, his chest heaving for air, sweat rolling down his temples and the center of his chest as he took in every detail of her. A vapor simmered over her hot skin, her red hair spread in a halo around her exquisite face. God above, she was beautiful, headstrong, rebellious, yet here, in his arms, beneath him in loving, she was a magnificent savage, her release as untamed as she was, as if capped for too long.
Then she reached, playing with his nipple, outlining the contours of his breast before her fingers curved his neck to bring him down to her mouth. Her kiss was probing and turbulent, stirring him deeper than before, and with a groan, he sank onto her, rolling to his side and taking her with him. Her calf rubbed over his, her fingertips drawing patterns on his damp back.
He was still lodged inside her and her hips pushed deliciously to his.
"Did I hurt you?" He'd never pounded into a woman with such ferocity before.
"You did not hear me complainin', did you now?"
He grinned. "So then, you are still hungry for the dragon?" he teased, stroking her hair from her face as she tipped her head to look at him.
"You would deny me the pleasure now?"
He chuckled, kissing her again. "I would indulge you all day, but we will be discovered soon." His gaze swept meaningfully to the lowering sun.
"I do not care."
He scoffed, running his hand over her slender back, enjoying the peace and the feel of her skin. "You will when the entire keep sees your bare behind." He patted the tender area. "I am surprised Driscoll did not come a'running to see if I was killing you, your cries were so loud." Her gaze snapped to his, searching for the admonishment, but found only a tender humor.
"My cries?"
He arched a brow.
She shoved at his chest. "Oh, do not look at me as if you were not roaring like a beast too long in a pen."
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You opened the cage, woman, and let the dragon out."
Her gaze lowered briefly to where their bodies joined. "When one knocks long and hard enough," she said with a moan, thrusting softly against him, "one must answer the door."
Suddenly Gaelan rolled her to her back, plunging deeply and gazing into her eyes. "Knock, knock."
* * *
Siobhàn watched him walk from the stream, his naked body glistening with water like fairy dust. The sight of him made her heart skip, and she tipped her head as he neared. Truly a beautiful man, she thought, proud he was hers. Their marriage was unbreakable now, sealed before God, and Siobhàn did not have a single regret. She had kept them from being truly husband and wife. She had drawn a battleline between them, and the needs of her body and her heart had melted into one and she recognized hours ago that if she wanted a new life, she had to break from her own rebellion and give into the sweep of it. There had been no question that she'd wanted to be physically loved by him. 'Twas a pleasure she would never forget, a pleasure that would be remembered with a look and a touch. Her gaze followed him as he dressed, constantly astonished at the power he harnessed for her this afternoon. Muscles rippled and fle
xed as he stepped into his braies, then pulled on a poorly made lawn shirt, the cuffs and sides gathered. She could not take her eyes off him as he laced the boot thongs over his thighs and fastened the leather, unadorned codpiece over his manhood. Even flaccid, 'twas substantial, she thought, desire for him stirring through her again.
"Siobhàn," he warned. "That look is dangerous. Want to find yourself on your back?"
"I would prefer my knees," she said tartly, and his head shot up, his eyes flying wide. She nibbled on a cube of cheese, looking at him through a curtain of hair. "I have shocked you, I see."
"Aye," he admitted.
"Forgive me."
Squatting, he reached, tipping her face up, frowning softly. "Spare naught from me."
Her brow knitted and she shoved the cheese into her mouth, then studied the samplings. "Tigheran was unfaithful," she blurted. "To him bedding was a weapon. No matter how I tried, he saw me as a cruel second to Devorgilla. The enemy's niece." She scoffed rudely. "He did not believe a woman should have any desires."
Gaelan dropped to his knees before her, then snatched up a bite of food. "I am most glad you have them."
She glanced up, her smile slow, trembling a bit. He could not know what his tenderness, his coaxing and the freedom she felt in his arms meant to her. Her eyes burned for the giant of a man who hid this side of himself and gave it only to her, for letting her be herself and discover all she'd suppressed. Making love with him was new, fresh, and she felt almost virtuous. He gave her more than she gave him. And she knew she'd denied them both these past days for the mark Tigheran left on her, for the hateful words he'd say to her when she so much as patted his arm. But this Cornish knight craved her touch, and when she gave it, he wanted more. Siobhàn was most willing to deliver.
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