Dark Alpha's Caress

by Donna Grant

  “That is if you want to do the ritual,” Aisling said.

  Cathal’s face lined with anger as he glared at the Dark. “Of course, she wants to do the ritual. It’s the answer to everything.”

  “Is it?” Sorcha asked. She looked between the two. “I’ve not done the ritual in ten years. This is the first time I’ve been approached by Fae—any Fae. It’s too much of a coincidence. It has to be more than the family ritual. My mother never missed a ritual.”

  Aisling’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you sure about that?”

  “It’s what she told me,” Sorcha said. Then she realized that her mother had left out a lot of things about her past, including who Sorcha’s father was. “I…well, to be honest, I don’t know anymore, really.”

  Aisling shrugged. “There’s one way to find out if it is the ritual or something else.”

  “No,” Cathal snapped, his brows drawn together, waves of ire rolling off him.

  Sorcha ignored Cathal and stared at Aisling. “And what is your suggestion?”

  “Aisling, no,” Cathal said in a low, dangerous voice.

  The Dark raised a black brow and returned his scowl with one of her own. “She’s a grown woman and has the right to choose. And she’s right. If you’d put aside your feelings and look at the facts, you’d see it, too. No Fae have bothered her in ten years. That’s ten years of not doing the ritual. Why now? What was it that brought all the Fae to Skye for her?”

  Sorcha watched as a muscle twitched in Cathal’s jaw. After several tense moments, he turned his head to Sorcha. “As much as I hate to admit it, you are an adult. You can make your own decisions.”

  The fact that he worried for her was obvious—and something Sorcha felt deeply. From the first moment she’d met Cathal, he had affected her. She’d let him in when she had turned everyone else away. She still wasn’t sure why that was, and it didn’t matter right now. The important thing was that he and Aisling wanted to keep her safe from everyone else.

  She drew in a deep breath and released it as she held Cathal’s gaze. “I want to know the real reason the Fae are after me. However, I won’t make things more difficult for you in the process. So, what would you suggest I do?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cathal couldn’t believe that Sorcha had asked for his advice. He was so shocked, he could only stand there.

  “Well, look at that,” Aisling said in a low voice so that only he could hear.

  There was a smile in her quip, but he ignored it. He couldn’t take his eyes off Sorcha. No one had ever put their lives in his hands before. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. If he messed up even the tiniest bit, it could mean her life. The responsibility was debilitating.

  Why it had been okay when he was guarding her before, he wasn’t sure. Something about her saying the words altered…everything. He couldn’t tell her that, though. Instead, he began to think of anything that could keep her from being attacked by Fae hell-bent on forcing themselves on her.

  “Cathal?”

  Fek. Even the sound of his name on her lips with her slight Scottish brogue was enough to make his balls tighten. He was in way over his head. He’d probably been that way from the very beginning, but he’d been too enamored by her to realize it. But now that it was before him as huge as the moon with bright red blinking lights, he couldn’t forget it.

  “He’s thinking,” Aisling said for him.

  Cathal swallowed, or at least he attempted to. There was no moisture in his mouth. It was as dry as the Sahara. They needed reinforcements. All of the Reapers needed to be here. But would that even be enough? He needed to get Erith and Cael here, as well.

  He suddenly grunted as a small, narrow elbow jabbed him in the ribs. He glanced over to see Aisling giving him a look filled with daggers. Cathal blinked, then looked at Sorcha to find the Halfling giving him a worried look. Fek, but he had to get his shite together. And quickly.

  “I don’t think leaving is a possibility,” he said. “This place has kept the Fae out. They’ve yet to cross onto your property, and all we can do is hope that holds out until it’s time for the ritual.”

  Sorcha tucked a piece of hair behind her right ear. “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then we kick some arse,” Aisling said with a wide grin.

  Cathal shot her an annoyed look and directed his attention back to Sorcha. “Then we’ll take you someplace safe.”

  “Why not do that now?” Sorcha asked. “I don’t want to do the ritual. I told you already. I don’t want anything to do with magic.”

  Aisling released a loud, drawn-out sigh. “Look, Sorcha, I’m going to tell you like it is. Sure, you’ve been lucky, and no Fae have come before now. Let’s say you don’t do the ritual this year. What are you going to do when the Fae return next year? Or the year after that? How long do you think you can go before they find you and get what they want? We won’t always be around to save your arse.”

  “I’m not asking you to do it now,” the Halfling retorted.

  Instead of getting angry, Aisling smiled. “I like you. A lot. You’ve got steel for a spine, even in a situation where most would be crying in a corner.” The Reaper let the smile die. “We’ve gone to a lot of trouble to keep you alive. Don’t repay us by being stupid.”

  Cathal slid his gaze back to Sorcha. She stared at Aisling for a full minute without saying a word. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and he was prepared for anything. After all, Aisling was never shy about telling people the truth.

  “You’re right. I am being stupid.” Sorcha shrugged. “I don’t mean to make either of you feel as if I don’t appreciate what you’re doing. I do. But I’m not going to do magic. No one and nothing can make me change my mind. And being a part of the ritual means I’d have to do magic.”

  Cathal nodded as he met Sorcha’s gaze. “Then we come up with a plan where you don’t have to.”

  “Guess I’m in,” Aisling said with a twist of her lips.

  Sorcha smiled, and it hit Cathal right in the gut. Her emerald eyes crinkled at the corners, bright with happiness and trust. He’d never felt so inadequate for a mission before. He’d also never been so drawn to another. That played into it, it had to. What other reason could he have for reacting in such a way?

  Aisling rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “First, we need to strengthen the ward around the property. I can’t believe just one old ward has held the Fae off all these years.”

  “Good idea,” Cathal said. His eyes dropped to Sorcha’s mouth. He wanted a taste of it. Hell, he wanted to taste all of her.

  Aisling cleared her throat loudly. “That might hold them off for now. And perhaps next year. But after that? I don’t know. They may not wait for this time of year. They may come after her every day. The minute she leaves the property, they’ll make a move.”

  “I won’t leave,” Sorcha stated.

  Cathal blinked, taken aback. “You intend to spend the rest of your life in this house? You ventured out today. You liked it. I saw that.”

  Sorcha shrugged. “You know why I’ll stay here. Besides, they won’t want me all my life. Just during my childbearing years.”

  “You’re killing me,” Aisling said as she turned and walked to the sofa before she sat down and crossed one leg over the other.

  Cathal took a step closer to Sorcha. “I understand why you’re doing this, but you need to think about yourself. You don’t want to do magic, that’s fine. But the Fae don’t care. They just want what you can give them, and they’ll take it any way they can. You’ll drop your guard one day, and then they’ll have you.”

  “What would you have me do?” Sorcha asked. “The ritual? Bow down to what everyone wants me to do?”

  Aisling lifted a hand. “I’d like to point out that the Fae don’t want you to do the ritual. That’s why they’re here. Because you’ve not done it.”

  “I’m still not buying that. They’re here for another reason,” Sorcha said.

  Cathal had
to admit that he had begun to wonder that himself. He turned and looked at Aisling. Their gazes met, and she blew out an exasperated breath as she got to her feet.

  “You want us to dig deeper into that theory?” the Dark asked.

  Cathal nodded as he glanced at Sorcha. “You can stay here and finish healing. I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Oh, no. I’m good to go,” Aisling said before she disappeared.

  Sorcha’s head jerked to him. “What did she just do?”

  “Teleported. We also call it jumping.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Aye. Most Fae can after they achieve a certain amount of power through their magic,” he explained.

  Sorcha looked at her door and then back at him. “That’s how the two of you got in here.”

  “It is.”

  “I guess that makes traveling easy. I always thought the Fae had to use doorways like we have at the Fairy Pools.”

  He shrugged. “Some Fae don’t have a choice but to use doorways.”

  “And you’re Fae?” she asked with raised brows.

  Cathal frowned. “Of course.”

  “Tell me again why you’re helping me?”

  “Because you need it.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Do you always go around helping Halflings?”

  “Not usually.”

  “Then why me?”

  Damn, his words were getting tangled. “Because you needed it.”

  “You said that already.”

  Cathal dropped his chin to his chest and sighed. Then he looked at her. “The truth is, I can’t tell you what you want to know. Not all of it, at least. I’m a friend. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

  “I do believe that.” She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you for all of this. I know I’m not making it easy.”

  “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, either Aisling or I will be here to guard you.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m glad I met you.”

  Cathal wanted to look away. He needed to look away from Sorcha. Yet he was powerless to do anything but sink further into the emerald depths of her eyes. Did she know the pull she had over him? Did she realize how badly he ached for her? His hands still tingled from carrying her in Ireland, from feeling her soft body against his. The way her arms had wrapped around him had him craving her with a hunger that would never be quenched.

  Her arms slowly dropped to her sides, and she took a step toward him. Cathal felt the tug to her. He was so tired of resisting it, of ignoring it, that he gave in. The minute he moved in her direction, Sorcha rushed to him. His arms came around her instantly as their lips met.

  The feel of her was everything he’d thought it would be and more. Her hands tangled in his hair. He groaned as her nails softly scraped his scalp. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips. Her mouth parted, and he slipped his tongue inside to duel with hers.

  The kiss rocked him to his very core. The taste of her was captivating, electrifying. And with one kiss, he knew he had to have more. Unable to resist, he deepened the kiss. She sank against him. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her up as he plundered her lips.

  Suddenly, Sorcha ended the kiss and pulled away from him. He made his arms release her, directed himself to let her go even as every fiber of his being bellowed to have her back against him. No one had ever affected him in such a way. He’d felt desire, he’d experienced lust. Whatever this thing was with Sorcha was deeper, stronger than anything he’d experienced before.

  He knew the best thing to do would be for him to turn around and forget all about the soul-stirring kiss they’d just shared. But he didn’t. He didn’t have the will to do anything but stay with her.

  She hesitantly touched her lips that were now swollen from his kisses. At the base of her throat, he saw the erratic beat of her heart. She was just as affected as he was. The difference was that she’d had the strength to pull away. If only he had the same. There was no room in his life for someone. It didn’t matter if other Reapers had found love. Cathal had never wanted anyone. He’d been content on his own, giving his life to the Reapers and Death. It was all he’d signed up for.

  This…whatever this was…couldn’t continue.

  Even as he made up his mind, his heart laughed. He wanted Sorcha. Wanted her as he’d never wanted another thing before. Not even revenge. When he was with her, he didn’t feel the baggage of his past. He forgot that he’d been Dark. He forgot…everything but her.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first night I saw you in that storm in Ireland,” he told her.

  She smiled shyly and lowered her arm. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he’d never been good with words. They always got tangled up in his mind. He was better in battle, where he’d been used most of his life. Yet he found he wanted to be something different with Sorcha. He wanted to be able to voice the feelings within him.

  His lips parted, but all the words evaporated. Then he realized he didn’t need words. He could show her. Cathal held out his hand. Sorcha slowly reached out and took it. He then tugged her toward him, back into his arms where she had been. He gazed down at her, marveling at her beauty.

  He traced the pads of his fingers down her face to her neck. Then he slid his hand around to her nape and held her. Slowly, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. The moment their lips met, the flames of desire flared higher than before. She rose up on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck. Then, she sighed.

  The sound went straight to his hard cock, making it jump. Their attraction was too intense, too forceful to be denied. He backed her up until he had her pinned against a wall. Then he slid his hands down around the backs of her thighs. He lifted her, and instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist.

  She tore her mouth from his, gasping for air as he kissed down her throat. He rocked his arousal against her, wringing another moan from Sorcha. Cathal was so far gone that the house could be burning down around them and he wouldn’t know.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Breathe. She needed to breathe.

  But everything felt so good. Sorcha’s body was on fire, and it was all because of Cathal. The way he held her, the way he kissed her, the way he touched her. She still couldn’t believe they had kissed. She’d been standing there thinking how fortunate she was that he’d come into her life, and how goddamn beautiful he was. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms.

  And she didn’t regret a single second of it.

  Their ragged breaths filled her ears while her blood heated in her veins. When Cathal ground his arousal against her, she groaned, wishing he was closer. His kisses curled her toes and made her weak in the knees. All she could think about was having him inside her, of feeling him move against her.

  She tried to tell him what she wanted, but she couldn’t think while he touched her. Between his mouth and hands, she could barely string a thought together. Finally, she gave up and yanked at his shirt. He must have understood because the next thing she knew, the shirt was gone. Except it wasn’t just his shirt. It was all of his clothes.

  Sorcha pushed him away until she stood on her feet once more. She saw his frown, and knew she should tell him that she didn’t want him to stop, but she couldn’t manage it. Instead, she stared in awe at the man before her. He was…perfection. A work of art. She couldn’t understand why anyone with that kind of body would keep it hidden beneath clothes.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured and pushed away from the wall.

  Only a few inches separated them, but it was far too many. Sorcha put her hands on his chest and marveled at the thick muscles beneath her palms. There wasn’t an inch of fat on him anywhere. Every muscle was shaped to perfection.

  Slowly, she ran her hands down his chest to his washboard stomach and then back up again to smooth over his broad shoulders then down the hard sinew of his arms. She couldn’t
stop touching him. As she made her way back down his stomach, she kept going. She moved over his hips to his tight ass, then around to the front. She purposefully didn’t touch his cock.

  When she glanced up at his face, his neck was corded, and his eyes were shut as if it pained him to remain still as she enjoyed her perusal of his amazing body. She hadn’t asked him to stay still, but once more, he had proven that he knew exactly what she wanted. It was definitely something she could get used to.

  Sorcha didn’t want to think of the future. She wanted to keep focused on the present moment and what was before her. A stunning man, who made her feel like she was alive again. A Fae who brought out her desire and forced her to surrender to it.

  With her gaze locked on his face, she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his length. Instantly, his eyes flew open and pinned her. In his crimson gaze, she saw his desire, his need. His…hunger.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She might have shut herself away from the world, but even she knew this was something special, something not to be ignored. She didn’t deserve this, but she was going to take it anyway. One night. That’s all she wanted. One night with a man who was everything she hadn’t known she wanted.

  Or needed.

  She used her free hand and reached for the button of her jeans. Cathal placed his hand over hers. In a blink, her clothes were gone. They never broke eye contact as he moved her hair away from her face. She stroked him slowly, moving her hand up and down his shaft.

  “You’ve no idea how beautiful you are,” he told her. “Or how much I hunger for you.”

  His words had been unexpected and touched her deeply. She didn’t know what to say to such a compliment, so she rose up on her toes and placed her lips against his. Then she released his cock and took his hand as she led him down the hall to her bedroom.

  He turned her when they got to the bed and put a knee on the mattress before he lifted her and gently laid her down. She reached for him, but he smiled and pinned her hands over her head. Sorcha should have expected that he would make her remain still so he could look at her as she had with him.