“What was Maeve trying to tell you?” he prompted.
“What happened,” Chloe replied. “What I did.” Her eyes sparkled even more. “And what her message was for you...because I didn’t get it quite right.”
She didn’t need to say a word. He saw it in her eyes. Felt it as though Maeve were standing right here. “She told you what you now know. What you were to her.” He cupped her cheek and looked deeper, hearing her truth. Maeve’s truth. “Though only briefly, she saw you in that form but doubted her own two eyes. Then she understood upon death. She knew...”
Chloe released a shaky breath and continued when he could not.
“She knew that I had given my love for you to her,” she whispered, tears welling. “That I had loved you so much, I would give up anything so that you could be loved by her. So that your heart’s desire would be filled.”
“Why, though?” he said softly. “Why would you do such a thing?” He shook his head. “And why would Maeve have said I would find her again? That we would be together?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “All I know is what she told me.” Her eyes narrowed as she considered it. “To be honest, I’m fairly certain that while she’s been in touch with me, some of her communications weren’t really her.”
“Nay,” he murmured, sensing the same. “For we now know ‘twas definitely not her who tried to lure me off a cliff.”
“No,” Chloe concurred. “I have a feeling that her claiming you would find her again is likely the brotherhood at work too.”
“Aye.” He was positive she was right. “Trying to come betwixt you and me however they can. Trying to keep us from finding love and harnessing the power of our Claddagh ring.”
She nodded in agreement.
They sat in companionable silence for several minutes after that, thinking things over, their thoughts brushing one another’s. He liked the way her mind felt against his. The sweetness of it. Intelligence. Her never ending curiosity.
Which made him suddenly realize.
“’Tis from your former faery,” he murmured, knowing it like he knew nothing else. He looked at her fondly, for a flicker of a moment, on the verge of remembering more, but it got away from him. His certainty about this did not, though. “You were a verra curious faery.”
Though wobbly, a wry crooked grin curled her mouth. “That sounds about right.”
“’Tis one of my favorite things about you.” Unable to stop himself, having no real desire to, he traced his finger from her temple along her delicate jawline. “One of a growing list.”
“Then you’re the first of your kind.” Her eyes drifted a little at his touch. “But I’m glad.” Then, because she likely couldn’t help herself. “There’s a growing list?”
“Aye.” He smiled, not for the first time trying to keep thoughts of what lay beneath her fur from his mind, therefore from her mind. But it grew more and more difficult. Something he imagined she suspected based on an erection that no amount of magic would do away with. “There is a lot to like about you, lass.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said. “Because I’m not so sure now.”
“You’re not so sure who you were in another life as another creature,” he countered, wrapping his hand around the side of her slender neck, taken with how delicate she was. “But you are sure about who you are now.” He touched the area over her heart. “Here.” Then he touched her temple. “And here.”
When he did that, something passed between them he had never felt before. A warm pressure on his chest and temples that spread throughout his body.
Then an overwhelming sense of familiarity.
“You’ve done this to me before,” he whispered, searching her eyes for more truth. “You’ve let me see...”
“See what?” she said softly.
“I dinnae know.” He closed his eyes, basking in her warmth, her inner light, finding a sense of peace he had no idea existed. “All I know is we have been here before.” He opened his eyes to hers. “We have done this.”
Or something very similar. Something that bespoke an untouchable connection.
“I think you're right,” she whispered in agreement, yawning. Her tired eyes drifted, her exhaustion not just a result of quickly progressing magic but her trip to the Brodgar Stonehenge.
“You need to eat,” he said sternly, not allowing her to turn food away a second time. “Then sleep.”
“But I’m not hungry,” she mumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Regardless.” He brought a piece of game to her mouth and nudged her lips apart. “Eat, Chloe. Now.”
“I forget that you’re in charge for a living.” She dutifully chomped into the meat, chewed, then swallowed. “What’s it like being a chieftain, anyway? Are you—”
He put the meat to her mouth again and made her eat rather than chat.
In the meantime, because he knew it was the only way to keep her eating and not questioning, he told her all about what it was like overseeing Clan Hamilton. The ins and outs of daily life. About his parents, Conall and Lindsay. How ma had once been an actress and still charmed his clan at every turn. How the love betwixt his parents only compared to that of his grandparents, Darach and Jackie, who even in their ripe old age, were an active part of everyday life.
By the time he covered all the questions percolating in her mind, a soft smile lingered on her face, and her belly was full.
“You talk about them all with such fondness and love,” she murmured. “While I envy you that, I’m happy for you. I hope to meet them someday.”
“You will.” Because he would not have it any other way. Though he probably should have stopped at that, his heart went out to her for her upbringing. “They will welcome you as family and,” he nearly said love but caught himself, “be as fond of you as I am.”
“I hope so.” She leaned her head against his shoulder again, and her eyes slid shut, her words mumbled as she grew sleepier. “I could use a family...after all, I abandoned mine.”
At first, he didn’t know what she meant, then he did.
She was referring to her Fae family.
“Aidan,” she whispered, nuzzling her face against his neck.
“Aye, lass?”
“Take me to bed.”
Adrenaline surged through him at her request. At what he felt she craved even from the edge of slumber. What her body craved. So though he knew better, that she needed rest, he didn’t ask if she were sure but took her straight to bed.
Chapter Nineteen
DREAMS CAME AND went.
Welcome dreams.
The sort she never wanted to wake from.
She dreamt of forests and sunlight. Of frolicking about, weightless as a leaf on the wind. She flipped and twirled, full of glee and joy, zooming in and out of the woodland.
Until she heard something and stopped short, drawn by the sound of a heavy masculine sigh.
Drawn by a broken heart.
Curious, when she should be cautious, she zipped down, only to come to a screeching halt when she realized it was a human male. He wasn’t much to look at, all skin and bones, really quite unattractive, yet his sadness as he stared at the sea drew her.
Called to her.
Though he could not see her, she sat beside him and stared out too. Had the sea itself broken his heart? For one way or another, it had done such to many a man before. Or perhaps it was something else?
“I do love her so,” he said sadly. Though he talked to himself, or the sea, she fancied he spoke to her. “I would die a thousand times over for her.”
“Would ye truly then?” she murmured only for him to do the unthinkable. Something no man or woman of his species had ever done.
He replied.
“I would,” he vowed. “And will.”
She eyed him curiously. “For what purpose?”
“Because I love her.”
She gave that some thought.
“’Tis a rather good reason
to die for another,” she conceded. “But a rare trait in humans. They may say it, but most often, when faced with it, they do not do it.”
Not only did he talk to her, but looked directly at her, his words quite confident. “Just watch what I will do for love.”
She blinked, caught unaware not just by his pure heart but by something else.
Someone else.
“Aidan,” she cried, jolting awake from the dream.
She opened her eyes only to find herself not flitting around a forest or sitting beside a lovesick man but wrapped up in Aidan’s warm arms.
Very strong, muscular arms attached to a very hard body attached to...
“Oh,” she whispered, then clamped a hand over her mouth, hoping she hadn’t woken him.
Not only were they naked, but he spooned her. If that weren’t enough, his impressive erection pressed against her backside. She froze, waiting, only to realize his breathing had stilled.
He was awake.
She bit her lower lip, remembering with vivid clarity what she had said when dozing off earlier. What she had wanted. Craved.
“Do ye still, lass?” His hot breath dusted her cheek. The deep rumble of his sleepy voice sent shock waves straight through her. When his cock leapt as though it had a mind of its own, a sweet ache blossomed between her thighs.
She nearly said, “No, I was out of it when I said that,” but couldn’t seem to find the words.
His breathing grew heavier along with hers, but he made no move. She knew he wouldn’t even if her thoughts and body said he could. She had to say it, or take the initiative. He was just that sort of guy.
Yet what to say? What did she truly want? Yes, she wanted to sleep with him because she was wildly turned on, long overdue, and he was hot as hell, but what if...
“What if what?” he said softly, not opposed, it seemed, to questioning her thoughts. Something that suited her just fine.
Keeping the blanket pulled up, she rolled on her back and met his gaze in the dim light of the fire's dying embers. Rain fell softly outside, and thunder rumbled in the distance. “What if I’m not standing my ground?” She searched his eyes. “What if by doing this now, I lose my footing altogether?”
“I willnae let you lose your footing, Chloe,” he said softly, his words so damn romantic they tugged at her heartstrings. “For if you did, I would too.”
He meant it. She could see it in his eyes. In the gentle way he looked at her.
She wanted more of that.
More of him.
She needed to take the plunge and have faith in the way he gazed at her. There wasn't just physical need in his tender regard but something more. Something different than before.
So she kissed him. Then kissed him again and again until kisses became touches and desire took over. Not slow and easy, building and romantic, but more like a bomb went off.
Hungry with lust, their kisses grew rough and frenzied before he made his way down her body. He touched and stroked and licked all the right places, but it was rushed because he needed it that way. She needed it that way.
That’s when she realized it had been far too long for both of them.
More than that, she realized he hadn’t been with another since Maeve.
No other but Maeve.
While she wanted to slow things down, to perhaps make this more special because of that, she just couldn’t. Coming together with him felt like breathing air for the first time. No, water. It felt like doing the impossible and crossing over into a new realm.
“Aidan,” she whimpered, desperate for him, tears leaking from her eyes. “I...us...please...”
While she knew what she was asking for, there was more to it than that. A deep need that went beyond sex. This was important. He was important.
Them.
Together.
Finally.
Desperate, needing him with a vengeance that barely made sense, she straddled him and kissed him again, caressing his broad shoulders, mesmerized by the strong flesh at her disposal. Taken with the way his muscles flexed against her. The feel of his strong legs spreading her thighs further, urging her on.
Though she rubbed herself along his shaft, there was no need to arouse herself. She’d never been so wet. So ready. Somewhere way in the back of her mind, her twenty-first century self told her she’d never been so unprotected either, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this vortex of lust and desire. She ached and throbbed in places she didn’t know existed.
Mindless, needing him badly, she sank onto him, startled by his girth. By the way it pinched when it stretched her then hit all sorts of nerve-endings she didn’t know she had.
She trembled and released what sounded like an animalistic groan when he clenched her ass and steered her down slowly rather than let her take him too fast. Inch by torturous inch, they came together, all the while watching each other from beneath half-mast lids. From within a haze of lust so thick you could cut it with a knife.
By the time she was fully seated, her toes curled with a mix of anticipation and what might very well be mini-climaxes. She clenched his shoulders as he massaged her backside, letting the sweet anticipation build. When she couldn’t take it anymore and squirmed, desperate for more, he steered her up then pulled her back down sharply.
“Oh,” she gasped, rolling her hips, chasing the pleasure.
Yet suddenly a novice.
It was the oddest sensation she’d ever felt. For a moment, she had no idea what to do next. How this worked.
“Aidan,” she whispered, scared until he flipped her beneath him, cupped her cheek, and spoke with a soothing voice that put her fears at ease. A voice that bespoke a man who might have done this before. “’Tis all right, lass.” His brogue thickened with his restraint. With his desire to see her pleasured, not frightened. “I will show ye. ‘Twill be all right.”
What was that about? Why did it almost seem like they'd had this conversation before?
Even he seemed startled by his words but kept going, pulling back before he thrust deep. She cried out and grasped his sides. It felt like this was the first time she’d ever felt a man’s thrust.
“Why do I suddenly feel like a virgin?” she gasped, moaning in pleasure when he thrust again and again, pulling sensations from her, she’d never felt. Never imagined. And certainly hadn’t experienced when she lost her virginity.
She didn’t expect an answer, nor did she get one as his thrusts intensified and their passion built. Completely engulfed in the way he made her feel yet at the same time oddly brand new to this, she was aware of his muscles moving against her soft flesh. The delicious friction between their bodies. Of his penetration going so deep that it hit her womb. Her every single nerve ending.
The faster he moved, the higher she went until she felt suspended in euphoria. Waiting. Close. Closer still. Then mind-blowing pleasure spiked through her, and she burst over the edge into an orgasm that seized her entire body.
Time stood still.
Ecstasy consumed.
Then suddenly, barriers fell away, and she saw clearly through his eyes.
She saw her own face in another life and understood yet another piece of the puzzle.
Chapter Twenty
WHEN CHLOE CRIED out in pleasure and release—without question, the most intense thing he’d ever experienced—she took him with her. He thrust deep one last time and locked up, his ballocks tightening so hard then releasing in such a heavy gush that his body shook.
He sank down onto his elbows with her heels still lodged in his arse, her muscles tight while her climax continued peaking. Lost in the moment, lost in her, he rested his cheek beside hers, immersed in the flowery scent of her heated body trembling before she relaxed. Rather than pull away, he stayed where he was, enjoying the way she milked him. How she seemed to draw him into her even more.
It felt like coming home.
Like he was wanted there.
Though Chloe remained silent, he heard he
r churning thoughts more clearly than before. Questions brimmed, but she kept quiet because she felt they were inappropriate. That she had no right asking.
Whether or not she did, he found he wanted to answer her.
He wanted only honesty between them.
So he tucked her beside him, enjoying the soft warmth of her curves. “’Tis all right to ask, lass.”
She hesitated before she spoke. “Yeah?”
“Aye,” he said softly, knowing this had to do with Maeve. That Chloe had sensed she’d been the only other lass he’d lain with.
“I guess I just had a different idea about this era,” she murmured. “That it was more old-fashioned. That people got married before sleeping together. Or at least women anyway because I can't imagine men holding back.” Her eyes met his, and she got to the point. What she truly wondered about. “I guess I was just curious if you asked Maeve to marry you at some point?”
“Aye, within days of meeting her, actually.” He sighed. “Then, God knows how many more times over the years.” He shrugged, remembering all too well Maeve’s evasiveness. “After a time, it became more of an assumed thing, and the intimacy just came with the assumption, I suppose.”
Looking back on it, the intimacy almost seemed like something they did out of curiosity more than anything. Because it had felt good. Nothing like what he’d just experienced with Chloe, though. Which made him wonder how real the passion between him and Maeve had ever really been.
“It seems faery magic can only do so much,” he said softly, knowing she had followed those thoughts. While Chloe might have given her love for him to Maeve, he now knew it hadn’t translated to the flesh. Not like it should have.
“Speaking of faeries,” she murmured on a yawn. “I think I figured out...”
When she trailed off, he realized she had fallen asleep mid-sentence. Interestingly, it wasn’t just from their intimacy, but because her magic had been igniting on and off the whole time. Though tempted to wake her to find out what she had discovered, she looked too peaceful. So he tucked her under the fur by his side and drifted off, not lured by monsters in nightmares this time but lulled by soothing dreams.
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