Warrior of Ice

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘They did, yes,’ she whispered.

  He heard a slight rustling as if she were lying down upon the furs. ‘And I am grateful for what you said to my mother today. It might have been a lie, but you convinced her it was truth.’

  Killian doubted if the Queen believed them, but she had not tried to stop them. It made him wonder whether Maeve was telling lies of her own.

  Silence fell between them, and he stretched out on the cold ground. Despite the leather ground covering, he could feel the frost beneath his cheek. His shaft was aching, and he gritted his teeth against the discomfort. He’d brought this on himself by touching her.

  It was only to prove to others that she is yours. Not because you care about her.

  Not because he had grown to admire her over the past sennight, in the way she fought for someone she loved. In the way she continued to believe in him, despite what others had said. Taryn was a woman of fierce loyalty, and he envied Devlin for that.

  ‘Killian,’ she whispered. ‘Why did you touch me like that, in front of everyone? It wasn’t necessary to go that far.’ Her voice held no chastisement; instead, he detected an emotion he couldn’t read.

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘But...what you said to me outside this tent. There was no reason to say those words, for no one could hear you.’

  That was it. He heard the shyness of disbelief in her words. He moved in closer until he was lying beside Taryn, his knees touching hers. ‘Do you not believe that you are a desirable woman?’

  ‘I don’t know what to believe.’ She rested her folded hands against his chest. ‘Most men don’t look at me in that way. I’ve grown accustomed to it.’

  ‘Most men are fools.’ He reached out to cup her cheek, running his hands through her hair. Though he kept the touch light, his imagination roared with forbidden visions. He wanted to touch her bare skin, to make her feel things she had never felt before.

  Taryn said nothing, but her fingers moved against his chest in a silent caress. ‘Last night—when I invited you in, it was only meant to be an offer of shelter.’

  He didn’t take his hand from her hair. ‘Being with you at night is dangerous to both of us, a mhuírnín.’ And though he knew he could not leave her now, he sensed that the boundaries between them were shifting.

  ‘I am not afraid of you.’ She reached for his palm and covered it with hers. ‘I am more afraid of what will happen at Tara.’

  He could give her no answer, for they both knew the danger that lay ahead. ‘What are you most afraid of?’

  She moved in closer, turning to rest her cheek against his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent that haunted him at night. ‘I’m afraid that I’ll be powerless to help my father. That I’ll be forced to watch him die, and there will be nothing I can do to save him.’

  There was a soft tremor in her body, and he held her close. Her pain reminded him of what he’d felt for Carice—of all the years of helplessness, wondering when she would die. And though his sister was now safe, he knew the illness could take her at any moment.

  ‘Do you think Devlin was to blame for your scars?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ Her answer held the quiet weight of a daughter’s love. ‘I don’t know why she said what she did. Maybe it was greed. Or maybe it was her own hatred. But I can never believe that my father would do anything to harm me.’

  The whisper of her voice held years of pain and regret. He stroked back her hair, not knowing what to say. But the sudden intimacy between them was like nothing he’d known before. Here, in the dark, it seemed as if she was laying herself bare before him.

  ‘I used to go out walking with him. He talked to me, and no matter what Mother said, he did care about me.’ She paused a moment and added, ‘I know he had a terrible temper. My parents fought often, and I tried never to make him angry. He liked it when I obeyed him and remained quiet while he talked.’

  Killian said nothing, but her remark sent a warning through him. ‘And what did your mother think about the time you spent with him?’

  Taryn pulled back. ‘She hated it. I never could tell whether it was jealousy that he spent time talking with me or whether she was afraid of him. Maybe she thought he would set their marriage aside and send her away.’

  Killian said nothing, but inwardly, he sensed that there was a threat towards Taryn. And whether it came from her father or her mother, he couldn’t be certain. But he remained guarded, not trusting either of her parents.

  ‘I don’t know what will happen any more,’ she continued. ‘I don’t know if my father will live or die.’ She paused for a long moment and touched her fingertips to his face. ‘And I don’t know if you’ll help me or leave. For you only want my kingdom...and that is not in my power to give.’

  He wasn’t going to leave her. Though he cared nothing about King Devlin, he wasn’t going to walk away from Taryn Connelly. Although she now had the MacEgan soldiers, she needed someone who could intercede with the High King on her behalf.

  ‘It is not only your kingdom that I want,’ he said, moving his hand down her spine. The curves of her body pressed close to his, and the ties of her gown rested beneath his palm.

  A tremor passed over her at his words. ‘I don’t need your pity, Killian.’

  Deliberately, Killian caressed the puckered skin upon her cheek. ‘These do not define who you are.’

  ‘Yes. They do.’ She covered his hands with hers and pulled them back from the scars. ‘And I am well aware of it.’

  His skin tightened with the knowledge that she had been hurt for so long. Selfishly, he wanted to push back all the years of pain, teaching her what it was to be admired.

  ‘Don’t say it,’ he commanded. He didn’t want her to be anything other than what she was. ‘You are beautiful, Taryn. Anyone who cannot see that is unworthy of you.’

  He kissed her lips lightly, even knowing that it would not convince her. It was a kiss of invitation, a silent thanks. But this time, she did not kiss him back.

  ‘I think you are only saying what I want to hear,’ she said against his mouth. ‘This isn’t real.’

  He understood that she was trying to distance herself, to prevent him from touching her. She was vulnerable this night, wanting him to stay away. Words would not convince her. But perhaps actions would.

  ‘Then believe this is real.’ He took her mouth again, not letting her catch her breath. He kissed her hard, tasting her and enjoying the rush of sensation that roared through him. It was reckless and unrelenting, in an attempt to show her how desirable she was. He slid his tongue inside her mouth, coaxing her response, before he pulled back.

  ‘Did you think I liked watching Connor MacEgan kiss you the other night?’ He captured her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. ‘Does he make you feel this way?’

  She rested her forehead against his. ‘No one makes me feel the way you do.’ This time when he kissed her, she responded with her own kiss. Her tongue met his tentatively, and he never ceased his assault upon her senses. He wanted her to stop thinking about the past, to live only in this moment.

  Her hands moved around his neck, drawing him closer. Her legs were twisted in her skirts, and she adjusted her position until she raised one knee, bringing him closer on top of her.

  God above. No longer was he the conqueror, but instead, he was trying to learn what she wanted. Her hands moved beneath his tunic and the hauberk of chain mail, her fingers caressing his back. A surge of heat flooded through him. And if nothing else happened this night, he wanted her to know that she had a profound effect upon him.

  ‘Whatever you want this night, Taryn, I will give.’ He wanted to spend the hours pleasuring her, until there were no doubts that he desired her. He was so aroused, craving this woman in a way that went deeper than the need to breathe. ‘I will
be a slave to what you need, if that is your wish.’

  Taryn broke away, tracing the lines of his face. ‘You are not a slave and never will be, Killian MacDubh.’

  Her words were an invisible touch upon him. Never had she treated him as a fuidir. When he was with her, she seemed to see the man he was instead of the servant. He could not deny that he wanted her in a way he could never understand. She was his, and he would kill any man who dared to touch her.

  ‘I am yours to command, Lady. So long as I have permission to touch you the way I’m needing to.’ He loosened her laces, wanting her. Were it possible, he would rend the gown in half to bare what he desired.

  She was quiet, giving no answer yet. ‘And what if my kingdom is taken from me? What if my father is killed and there is nothing left?’

  ‘Your kingdom be damned,’ he answered. The only thing he cared about was protecting Taryn.

  He lowered her gown, baring one shoulder. His baser instincts were raging within him, and he wanted to take her over the edge of release.

  She kissed him again, and he spoke against her mouth, ‘If we continue this, Lady Taryn, I won’t be able to stop touching you. Your innocence will belong to me.’

  * * *

  God help her, but she wanted that. She wanted this man to touch her, to satisfy the longings that burned within her. And though a maiden was meant to save her virtue for a husband, she rather doubted if she would ever marry. This might be her one chance to discover what a bride felt upon her wedding night.

  ‘What is your command, my lady?’ Though he spoke as if he were her servant, she knew differently. He would reign over her, touching her in the way he wanted to. And she did want to experience the same thrilling touches he’d given her before.

  ‘Remove your clothes,’ she said softly.

  ‘Only if you do the same.’

  She pulled back from him and got to her knees. Though her hands were shaking, she removed her overdress and set it aside. Her léine beneath it was made of linen, and in the cold night air, her breasts puckered against the fabric.

  Beside her, she heard Killian removing his own garments, setting aside the armour.

  Don’t be afraid, she tried to tell herself. He will not hurt you.

  Of that, she had no doubt. And for once in her life, she wanted to know what it was like to feel cherished...beloved even. She had no doubt at all that Killian’s touch would feel wonderful.

  ‘Let me help you,’ he offered. But instead of removing the léine, he pressed her body beneath his. The heat of his skin was welcome, but she could not stop herself from shaking. She could feel the outline of every hardened muscle, the planes of his body shielding hers.

  He balanced his weight on both arms, and he lightly kissed her. ‘Are you certain this is what you’re wanting, a mhuírnín?’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t doubt her decision—it was only her fears of the unknown that held her back. ‘I want you to touch me the way you did before.’

  ‘Don’t be afraid.’ He shifted his weight so he was lying on his side, but he lifted her leg over his hip. She was aware of his hardened shaft nestled against the fabric of her léine, and the knowledge that it would soon be inside her made her grow wet between her legs.

  His hand passed over her shoulder to her breast. She bit back a moan when his fingers found the tight nub and stroked the nipple. The urge came, to press herself against his arousal, and he let out a hiss of air when she did.

  ‘Not yet, a ghrá. We’ve all night for this.’

  Although the linen léine was normally soft against her skin, tonight it felt almost abrasive. It was an unnecessary barrier, and she wanted his hands against her bare skin. ‘Help me take this off,’ she urged.

  But there came only a low laugh. ‘Later.’

  He pressed her back, stroking both breasts with his fingers. The tremulous sensations echoed between her thighs, and she squirmed against him.

  ‘I love the way these fill my hands,’ he murmured, cupping both breasts. ‘I want to suckle them and make you moan.’ He fingered the nipples, and they hardened, sending a flood of heat between her legs. ‘I dreamed of you last night.’

  His words wove a spell over her, and she reached out to his chest, feeling the ridges of muscle beneath her palms. ‘Tell me.’ She stroked him, learning the shape of his torso and the way his body felt beneath her hands.

  ‘I dreamed of tasting you like this.’ He bent his mouth to her nipple and sucked her through the fabric. Tempestuous needs stormed through her, and she dug her fingers into his dark hair, her legs tangled against his. He sucked and nibbled, and she was arching against him, wanting so badly to be joined with this man.

  The feelings gathered up into a tight ball of desire, and it was as if he were unlocking a secret part of her. This time, he moved lower, grasping the hem of the léine and drawing it up to her waist. His fingers skimmed her thighs, opening them gently as he moved higher.

  She realised what he wanted, and though she was embarrassed, she parted her legs. His fingers moved to her intimate place, and he let out a low growl when he touched the wetness there.

  ‘You’re ready for me, aren’t you, a ghrá? This is where you want me to be.’ He slid a single finger inside her, and she couldn’t stop the cry that broke forth. Slowly, he moved the finger in and out, coating it with her essence. His thumb moved against the delicate skin above her entrance, and she felt a blossoming sensation.

  ‘Don’t stop,’ she commanded.

  And he obeyed. He was opening her, preparing her for the invasion of his flesh. In return, she reached out to him, feeling the large erection. He was so thick, she could hardly curl her palm around him, and he stilled when she began to stroke his velvety shaft.

  ‘What else do you want of me?’ he asked. ‘Shall I kiss you here?’ He passed his fingers along the wet seam of her entrance, and the shocking idea made her shudder.

  ‘Later,’ she said.

  She continued caressing his length as he guided her to sit up. It was a revelation to touch his bare shaft, to feel the bead of moisture at the thick head, her palm surrounding him. The slightest motion made him react, and she gave in to her curiosity, enjoying the way he gasped at her attention.

  ‘This is about you,’ he said, removing her léine at last. ‘I want to pleasure you until you can’t hold back your scream.’

  But she was finding her own pleasure in touching him. In the darkness, she could almost pretend that she was a woman of beauty, that he truly didn’t see the scars. When she transformed her rhythm, moving her hand up and down, he suddenly forced her back, pinning her wrists to the ground.

  ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘I won’t last if you keep doing that.’ He kissed her again, and she pulled his hips on top of her. The feeling of his hard length nestled against her curls was so tempting. His tongue entered and withdrew, just as he reached down to slide his finger inside her. The sensation drove her wild, and she arched against him.

  She was desperate for more, and he guided the tip of himself into her wet entrance. Taryn braced herself for the joining that would come, knowing there would be pain when she surrendered her virginity.

  Instead, Killian didn’t move. He remained barely inside her, and with one hand, he began stroking the hooded flesh above her opening. Every part of her was sensitive to him, craving his body inside hers.

  ‘I won’t join with you until you’ve been well pleasured,’ he swore. Though she didn’t understand what he meant by that, she gasped when he began suckling her breast. It felt as if her body were turning itself inside out, fighting against the onslaught of arousing feelings. She was unable to stop herself from moving her hips, and he kept up the rhythm, stroking her into a frenzy. Her body was trembling hard, and a white-hot core of need began to shimmer within her. He had found a hidden place, and as he stroked it,
she heard herself begging him for more.

  She was pressing against his hand, feeling the blunt head of him teasing her. And the shimmer transformed into an ache. He sensed her need and began rubbing harder, driving her towards the brink of surrender. He sucked hard against her nipple, and she couldn’t stop herself from arching her back while a thousand pieces inside her shattered into a molten blast of desire. She let out a gasp as a release slammed into her, and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  My God, she’d never felt anything like this in her life.

  He surged forward, and she felt a slight pain as he breached her. The pain was quickly forgotten as their bodies joined together. She raised up her knees, and he filled her completely, taking a moment to catch his breath.

  It was right having him buried deep inside her. The weight of his body upon hers was welcome, but the yearning had not diminished. He kissed her gently. ‘We haven’t finished yet, a mhuírnín.’ With that, he withdrew lightly and filled her again. Her breath hitched as he began thrusting in a slow rhythm. It was like being caressed on the inside, and she welcomed the intrusion.

  Instinctively, she tightened herself against his erection, and he groaned at the sensation. ‘Do that again.’

  ‘Does it feel good to you?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye, Taryn. It does.’

  She obeyed, and he kept up the slow penetrations until her body began quaking with the tremors. ‘More, Killian.’

  ‘I’m trying to be gentle with you.’

  She realised that he was holding back for her sake. When he was deeply embedded within her, she framed his face with her hands. ‘I don’t need you to be gentle right now. I want you to feel the way I did.’

  He rewarded her by increasing the pace. ‘Am I hurting you?’

  The sensation was so overwhelming, she was hardly aware of anything else. ‘Only if you stop.’

  She knew the moment he surrendered to his own desires. He began plunging hard, lifting her leg against his waist, and she could hardly breathe from the pleasure of being filled. She gave everything of herself to him, meeting him thrust for thrust.