Faerie Fate

by Silver James

  “Let me,” he growled. While he fought the buttons, Becca unfastened his belt. “’Twould be easier if we each worked our own,” he suggested.

  “Smart idea.”

  The tiny buttons on her formal shirt stymied her, though. She kicked off her boots and peeled out of her breeches. Socks soon followed, but she couldn’t decide about the lacy scrap of underwear she wore. She went back to work on her shirt buttons.

  Impatient, Kieran grabbed her shirt. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he growled against her lips as he ripped the buttons free. He pushed the material off her shoulders and gazed adoringly at her breasts as they peeked out of her bra. “Ah, cailín,” he murmured before he buried his face in the valley between them.

  They fell back on the bed, and Becca realized that Kieran was completely naked. The hard evidence of his desire pressed against her belly, but that wasn’t where she wanted it. He kissed her hard, then released her lips to rain kisses down her throat and across her chest. His tongue worried the edge of her lacy bra. She squirmed even more. He discovered the clasp to her bra in the front and as soon as he undid it, her breasts slipped from the lace. He lowered his head, and his mouth claimed the rosy tip of one breast. She arched against him. His tongue teased her nipple while one of his hands paid homage to her other breast. His free hand traced across her ribs and down to caress her hip. It slipped inside her panties and found moist heat waiting.

  He shuddered. She was as ready for him as he was for her. His hand dipped lower, between her legs, and his thumb found the nub at the entrance to her slick folds. He teased it, and her flesh grew slick as warm liquid pooled. Slipping a finger inside, he was amazed at how tight she was.

  Becca gasped when his finger pushed inside her. When a second joined the first, she couldn’t decide if she was feeling pleasure or pain. At that point, they were almost the same thing. She might be a virgin, but she wanted this man inside her with every ounce of her being.

  Kieran could wait no longer. She was ready and willing, and he was more than able. He stripped the scrap of lace from between her legs and nudged her thighs apart with his knees. He settled between her long legs, teasing the tip of his boidín against the slick folds hiding the entrance to her very core. His hand guided the tip inside her, and he pushed in with a thrust of his hips.

  Becca gasped as his hard thickness spread her. She took a deep breath, trying to force the muscles in that area of her body to relax. The anticipation had her so keyed up that not a single muscle in her body was relaxed. Her friends in college had spent hours in the dorm talking about sex. She knew this first time would hurt. She just wanted it over with so she could relax and enjoy the next time.

  He pushed in farther, still amazed by how tight she was. Then the head of his boidín met resistance—the thin membrane of her maidenhead. He stared at her, confused. She had so much latent sexuality, and was just has hot and excited as he was. It hadn’t occurred to him she might be a virgin—not in this day and age for sure. He grinned despite himself when he saw her face. Her eyes were screwed shut, and her brow was knitted into a ferocious frown. He kissed the corner of her mouth.

  “Why dinnit yee tell me?” he whispered against her lips.

  Becca cocked one eye open to look at him. “Does it make a difference?”

  “Absolutely,” he affirmed. “’Tis all the difference in the world.” He kissed her, his lips softening against hers. He traced her jawline with his tongue, following it up to the soft skin beneath her ear. “I want only pleasure for you, Becca, not pain. Are yee sure yer wantin’ to do this?”

  “Absolutely,” she sighed, opening both eyes. “You tie me up in knots, Kieran. Completely and absolutely. I’ve never felt like this.” Her long lashes shuttered her eyes. “I’m just afraid that it won’t be good for you,” she admitted self-consciously.

  “Ah, cailín, how could yee worry about such a trivial thing? Just let me love yee and ’twill be good for me.” He slipped out of her while kissing her lips again, long and hard, his tongue diving deep and withdrawing, mimicking what he was going to do with the rest of his body eventually.

  When he’d kissed her breathless, his mouth wandered down her neck and across her chest. He paid rapt attention to each breast, teasing the rosy tips into hard little peaks. Lips and tongue then skittered down her ribs to find the soft skin where thigh met belly. His hand splayed across her belly and he liked the little swell he found there. Someday, his child would grow there. He was as certain of that fact as he was of his name.

  His finger once again found her sheath hot and wet, but still too tight to accept the size and length of him without pain. He nuzzled the inside of her thighs then slid off the bed. Kneeling beside the bed, he grabbed her by the hips and swiveled her around so he would have easy access. He put her legs over his shoulders and dipped his head to taste her.

  At the first touch of his tongue, Becca almost jumped out of her skin. His tongue lapped at her silken folds, then flicked across the nub. His lips greedily sought that tiny little bud, his teeth nipping and gently pulling. A spring coiled tight inside her. His tongue pushed into her, tasting and testing. He raised his head to watch her as his long, strong finger replaced his mouth. That spring wound tighter. In and out his finger danced, until she was pushing against his hand. Two fingers went in and still she pressed for more.

  Slowly, surely, his fingers stretched and soothed her deep inside, preparing the way. His thumb found the nub again and rubbed. He was rewarded by a soft mewling noise. The muscles in her sheath contracted, claiming his fingers. His free hand found one of her breasts, cupping its soft firmness while his finger and thumb teased the nipple. Becca panted now, frantically pushing against his fingers and hand. He felt the shudder that began in her central core.

  The rolling tremble starting behind her belly button spread out all the way to her fingers and toes. “Ahh.” She exhaled. Just before another spasm consumed her, she managed a quick breath around the hitch in her chest.

  Kieran groaned as she shuddered against his hand. He almost came, too, but forced himself to hang on. He put her legs down, and slowly slid up her body. He kissed her long and deep. “’Tis only the first of many,” he promised.

  He thought his cock would burst if it got any harder. He had to bury himself in Becca, and he had to do it now. “Now,” he growled. “I will have you now.”

  Becca nodded, panting. “Finally,” she agreed.

  He’d already fitted himself between her legs, and his smooth tip hovered at her sweet entrance. She squirmed, trying to fit them together. “It will still hurt a bit, but ’twill be easier now,” he reassured. Once again, he guided his boidín into her. It was immediately surrounded by wet, pulsing silk. He pushed into her gently, stopping to allow her muscles to relax and accommodate him.

  “The hell with this,” Becca cried. She grabbed his buttocks with both hands and arched into him, driving the full length of him to her very core. It hurt more than she’d anticipated, and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes, but for the first time, she felt truly complete and alive.

  He lay still, afraid if he moved, or if she moved, he’d spill too soon. He kissed the tears from her eyes, propping most of his weight on his elbows, making it easier for her to breathe. He was a big man and didn’t want to crush her. He brushed a tendril of golden hair back from her forehead. He kissed the spot on her forehead where his fingers had brushed her soft skin, and then he kissed the tip of her nose before his lips found hers, kissing them tenderly as well. “I dinnit want to hurt you, cailín,” he murmured.

  Becca kissed the hollow of his shoulder. “No,” she argued, her eyes flashing with mischievous glints. “You’d have taken all damn night to get it done.”

  Kieran grinned at her cheekiness, but he was once more in control. He pulled back, his cock sliding out of her. Becca cried out, trying to hold him in. Kieran drove back into her and she cried out again, this time in relief. Slowly, he withdrew again, then pumped deeper. Each tim
e, her muscles flexed, trying to hold him deep within her. Slow, sure, in control, he rocked inside her. Withdrawing, then plunging with more intensity. Her hips rose to meet his, and then she took control. She sped up the tempo, urging him deeper and deeper still. Harder. Faster. She clung to his shoulders, wrapped her long legs around his waist, and locked her ankles behind his back. He groaned.

  They both spiraled out of control, reaching higher and higher. Becca’s sheath was slick and hot, and the sweet moisture of her passion trickled down his thigh. He put his hands under her hips, tilting her so he could drive himself into the very center of her.

  His boidín throbbed in time with the contractions running through her sheath. He was about to explode so he gathered her into his arms. She opened wide to receive him, and as he pumped his seed into her secret depths, she gathered him close to keep him. Becca shuddered as wave after wave of shooting stars imploded in her middle. She whimpered and Kieran immediately shifted his weight, afraid he was crushing her.

  “Did I hurt you?” His voice was tight with fear. He’d planned to take it slow and easy, but when she’d arched into him, forcing his boidín so deep, he’d lost a little bit of control. He grinned, ruefully admitting to himself, he’d lost a lot of control. She smiled into the hollow of his chest, and he could feel her lips curling against him.

  “How long before we can do that again?” she asked, her voice muffled by his warm skin.

  Shocked, Kieran braced his hands on the bed and reared back. He stared down at her. “What did you just say?”

  Becca trailed her fingers down his muscled sides and across his back, stopping when she got to the hard muscles of his buttocks. She squirmed, and then flexed the muscles in her vagina, caressing his entire shaft. “You heard me.” She grinned. “When can you do that again?”

  Kieran groaned. She’d completely drained him and now, not five minutes later, she wanted to do it again. “You are insatiable,” he teased.

  “Yes,” she replied truthfully.

  ****

  Two days later, Rory and Neal met Kieran in the bar of their hotel. When the big man was slow to sit and grimaced as he settled on the wooden stool, Rory guffawed and slapped him on the back. “And where are yee hidin’ the fair Rebecca?” he teased his cousin.

  “She’s gone back to her hotel to pack. I’m picking her up in an hour. I called the colonel, and he’s given me three weeks’ leave. Not much time to plan and execute a wedding, but Becca says her mother can handle it with her eyes closed.” Now it was Kieran’s turn to smirk. Rory and Neal both had to force their gaping mouths closed.

  “Yee’ve known the cailín only briefly, Kieran,” Neal counseled the younger man. “Are yee sure you aren’t thinkin’ with the wrong part of your anatomy?”

  Kieran smiled at his mentor. “How long did you know Chavonne before you married her?”

  Neal choked and had to cough, clearing his throat before he could speak. “That’s different.”

  Rory stared at the older man, a wicked gleam flickering in his eyes. “Bloody hell, man, you’ve never married her, have you?”

  Neal coughed again. “I would have,” he blurted. “In the Church even, but she’d have none of it. Your Uncle Finn fixed the papers for me so the Army would recognize her as my wife should something happen.”

  Kieran smiled at the big man. “Relax, Neal. Your secret is safe with us.” He kicked Rory under the table just to make sure. “Be that as it may, yee still haven’t answered my question. Yee knew the minute yee laid eyes on her she was the one.”

  Neal sighed in defeat. “Aye, lad, I did.”

  Satisfied, Kieran ordered a Guinness from the bartender. “Rory, like it or not, you’ve been granted leave to be my best man. Neal, you’re to go with Evan and the horses back to Ireland.” As the older man started to protest, Kieran held up his hand. “Becca and I are coming to Ireland for our honeymoon. We’ll have a second ceremony at Boyle with the full clann in attendance so I can bestow the Knot. I’m fully aware of what Uncle Finn would do if we didn’t follow custom, however archaic it might be.”

  Neal and Rory exchanged a long look.

  “Kieran, we’ve all known forever you’d be Uncle Finn’s heir.” Rory shrugged. “Face it, you’re going to be the MacDermot whether you like it or not. Since Uncle Finn isn’t gettin’ any younger, and especially now you’ve chosen Becca, you have to give her the Knot.” Rory chuckled. “I swear there are times you’d think the clann would cease to exist if that bloody brooch wasn’t handed out once a generation. I’m just glad you’re the one who’s cursed with the true mate thing.” He leaned back in his chair and let out a satisfied sigh. “Me? I like the cailíns way too much to tie myself down to just one.”

  Kieran stared at the man who was not only his cousin but also his best friend. “Be careful what you say, Rory,” he cautioned. “You never know when foolish words like those will come back to haunt you.”

  Rory snorted. “Aye, and next you’ll be tellin’ me to spill a drop of ale to pay tribute to the fae.” The younger man stood up and stretched. “An’ speakin’ of the cailíns, I’ve got a hot date. Cousin, you know how to find me.”

  Without a backward look, Rory strode out of the bar. Kieran and Neal exchanged a long look, then glanced around the room to make sure no one watched. They both spilled the last drops of their beers on the bar.

  “To the faerie,” they toasted.

  Epilogue

  Becca floated in that delicious state halfway between falling asleep and dreaming. She snuggled into Kieran’s side and sighed, the sound happy and relaxed to her ears. On this first night of her married life, she was completely and totally satisfied. Oh, how this man had made love to her. And, oh, the things she had done to him. Her cheeks grew hot just thinking about all they’d tried in bed. She felt complete, like a huge hole in her heart had been filled and for the first time in her life, she was truly at peace and content. She snuggled closer to her new husband. How could she not feel whole when he filled her so completely?

  She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, her thoughts returning to their wedding. It had been a simple ceremony with family and a few close friends. He’d added some vows of his own for them to repeat.

  “By the life that courses in my blood and the love that resides in my heart, I take thee to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one,” Kieran had pledged to her that morning in front of their guests. “To desire thee and be desired by thee. To possess thee and to be possessed by thee, without sin or shame for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. There is no beginning, there is no end, but in you. You are my chosen.”

  They’d be married again in a church ceremony in a few weeks’ time when they arrived at his home in Ireland.

  Kieran stirred restlessly and tightened his arms around her. He made her feel cherished, as if she were the only woman in the world.

  “You are the only woman in the world as far as I’m concerned,” he murmured in her ear.

  She kissed the hollow of his shoulder and laid her head on the spot. “Love of my heart,” he told her looking deep into her cerulean eyes.

  “Light of my life,” she had replied as her eyes drifted shut and her breathing became deep and regular.

  Becca smiled in her sleep and he kissed her forehead. His last waking thought was that her eyes were the exact color of the fire opal mounted in the MacDermot Knot. As soon as they got back to Ireland, he’d give it to her.

  ****

  “He must still bestow upon her the Covenant,” the male complained.

  “’Twill be done. The binding is made. ’Tis all that matters,” the female replied.

  “Excuse me, but who are you?” Becca broke in.

  Silence.

  “I know you can hear me. Why won’t you answer me?”

  Still silence, and then a sharply indrawn breath.

  “She
still hears us. How is that so?” The male was distraught.

  “How could she not?” the female replied smugly. “She is our daughter.”

  A word from the author...

  At the age of four, I lined up my stuffed animals and told them stories I made up. At thirteen, I committed my first “novel” to paper—in a black-and-white-plaid spiral notebook. “The Talisman” had a decent plot along the lines of “Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court” though processed through the brain of an adolescent girl. Needless to say, it was abysmal.

  I’ve been married to my best friend, who also happens to be an attorney, for twenty-five years. Our wonderful daughter is in college, majoring in museum studies and history, a love she came by honestly from her dad and me both.

  Over the course of my lifetime, I’ve been a military officer’s wife, state appellate court marshal, airport rescue firefighter and forensic fire photographer, crime analyst, and technical crime scene investigator. I’ve since retired from the “real world” and live in Oklahoma. I spend my days at the computer with my two dogs, the “lolcat” who owns us all, and myriad characters all clamoring for attention. Eventually, I’ll get around to telling each of their stories.

  For more information about Silver and her books, visit www.silverjames.com

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