The Charm Stone

by Donna Kauffman

  “Would you like that?” she said, wanting to scream from the sweet edge of tension riding along every nerve. “To feel my hands like that?”

  “Aye,” he managed, jaw tight.

  “Then let go of me.”

  He grinned at her then and sat up, still gripping her wrists. He balanced his weight on his legs as he easily held both her wrists in one grip. He used his free hand to remove his kilt, tossing it aside, eyes shining in delight as her gaze moved unwaveringly to see the full glory of what she'd been feeling rubbing at her.

  He took one hand and guided her to him. Somehow the power had shifted again and her gaze shifted to his. His eyes were glittering as he wrapped her palm around the throbbing length, curling her fingers around him. This was unbearably erotic, watching him use her hand to stroke himself. Her hips jumped despite being trapped beneath him. Her other hand flexed in his grip, eager to touch him, to feel… anything. Dear God, but she might come if he didn't let her-

  He groaned then, deep and long, almost more of a growl. Their gazes met as his hand dropped away, leaving hers on him… to do as she pleased. He released her other hand as well. But as she moved to touch him… so did he move to touch her as well.

  She fought to keep her eyes open as his fingers did amazing things to her nipples. But their gazes were locked on each other's, as if by some greater force, each of them bearing witness to the havoc of pleasure they were wreaking on the other.

  She fought beneath him to move her hips.

  “I feel the same need,” he rasped.

  “Then take me, dammit!”

  The grimace of restraint that had locked his jaw broke then, into a grin so wickedly erotic she felt herself reach the first edge of climax right then and there.

  “As you command, my lady,” he told her, then slid down her body… and surged back up and into it in one bold stroke.

  Josie cried out and lifted herself onto him, opening herself to this sweet invasion, locking her legs tightly around him to ensure he stayed right where she wanted him. Where she'd always want him, she found herself thinking as delirious waves of pleasure built inside her.

  She grabbed at his hips, urging him on. “Faster, harder. God, Connal.”

  “I couldna be any harder,” he managed, and they both gasped and laughed simultaneously.

  And just then, for one brief moment, their gazes met, held… then broke apart again, the air filled only with the sounds of two people slaking their lust for each other.

  He did push harder, she did move faster, almost furiously so, reaching for that brilliantly mind-blowing release he'd driven her to once before… and trying to pretend that was all this was about.

  “Come apart for me,” Connal growled just then. “I want to see ye find the stars.”

  Josie's eyes blinked open even as he drove into her again, to find his gaze locked on her, his eyes so dark they were almost black, glittering with intent, the focus so tightly wound that she spiked instantly into a climax so strong it robbed her of breath, the glimmers that had come before it paling in significance to this overwhelming rush of sensation. It was all she could do to hang on to him and ride it out.

  “That's it,” he said, moving faster, grabbing her hips and shifting her higher so he could plunge deeper. “Hold on to me, Josie… and reach for the stars again. There are hundreds, thousands. I would give them all to you.”

  She was gripping his shoulders, then his head, pulling his mouth to hers, almost blind with need at that point, looking for something, something… needing- His mouth came down on hers, his lips pushing hers open, so he could invade her mouth as he was invading her body. She felt completely possessed by him, her entire body his to take, his to command. His.

  This time the groan of release came from deep within her. She felt as if her body would shatter with the soul-piercing pleasure that ripped through her. She reached for more stars… and found a galaxy of them.

  But even as their twinkling lights faded and her body still jerked with release, she knew she hadn't found what she sought… not all of it. She opened her eyes once again as he stroked her hair, damp now, from her face. He was still deep inside her, raging hard with need, but he held himself still, and from the tic pulsing in his jaw, not without enormous self-control.

  “Why did you stop?”

  He continued to push the hair from her brow, his gaze penetrating hers, as if he too were looking for something. “I've never met a woman who takes so much joy in the pleasuring a man and woman can give each other.”

  She supposed she should be embarrassed, only he'd said it with a touch of awe and wonder, and made her flush with pleasure instead. “I've never met a man who could give me such joy,” she said, before she thought better of it. It was true, but the instantaneous surge of… she couldn't even describe it, something primal almost, she'd seen in his expression, told her she might have wanted to keep that bit of information to herself.

  Except at the moment she couldn't seem to care overly much. Because he did bring her joy. Blissful amounts of it. At least when they were like this he did.

  But along with admitting that her feelings had gone beyond the physical came the curiosity to know more of him. Surely if he could be this generous, capable even of laughing, a man who enjoyed blissful amounts of pleasure himself… surely there was more to him than the tortured, almost-angry clan chief she'd dealt with the rest of the time. The thought was tantalizing. The desire to find that man was dangerous.

  “Ye've gone from me,” he said, kissing her neck and making her body arch into his. How was it he knew just where to touch her, just how to elicit a continued response from her no matter how wrung out she felt? “Your body is here, mine to take, but your thoughts have traveled far.”

  Her body, his to take. Yes, she thought, there was no denying that any longer. But the rest? “My thoughts haven't traveled far at all,” she said softly, then nudged his mouth up to hers, sank her fingers into his hair, and kissed him. Not the dueling tongues, piston-imitating kind of carnal kiss he'd given her moments ago.

  No, she was seeking something else this time, too curious to find if he would be receptive to it to listen to the warnings clanging in her head… and more distantly in her heart.

  She kissed him softly, slowly. She made love to his mouth, but gently, wooing his response rather than demanding it. If he was surprised or confused by this sudden change of pace, he didn't show it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it… and he was a quick study, she found out a moment later. His own hands sank into her hair, his body pinning hers to the bed. He returned her kisses with devastating gentleness. His hips moved just as slowly, pushing himself within her gently, even as he felt fiercely hard.

  The combination undid her and she came again. This time it was swift and somehow soft. She cried out and he took the cry into his mouth even as he moaned. Ripple after ripple washed over her with excruciating gentleness and yet he kept on, gently pushing into her, kissing her softly, on the neck, the cheek, the eyelids, the lips.

  “Again, Josie mine,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “Again and again.”

  “I want…” She trailed off on a light moan as he moved her up… and over again. Could a person simply drown in her own pleasure? She thought she might find out. “I want you to…You… Your turn.” It was the best she could do, she was both breathless and so deeply sated she felt drugged with it.

  “It has been my turn since I entered you,” he said. “Wrap your legs around me, Josie,” he urged her, already pulling her thighs up tight. “Let me sink deeply into you, so deeply that you will feel joined to me even when we are no longer like this.”

  She did as he asked, knowing at that moment she'd have done anything he asked. And when he lifted her up, higher, then higher still, and moved deeply, so deeply into her… they both groaned as he pulsed into her, his climax one long, low growl of release.

  She managed to open her eyes to see his squeezed tightly shut, his expression… she wasn't sure. B
lissful yes, but there was something else-Then his eyes blinked open and he looked down at her, into her, and said, “We have done it, Josie mine. We have well and truly done it.”

  Of course we have, she wanted to say, preferably with a dry, oh-so-witty little laugh. About as well and truly as any two people could, she would add. But there was something else in his tone. Something… fateful. “What have we done?” she whispered, even though she wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

  Somehow she'd stepped into the rabbit hole and fallen deeply into a wonderland of her very own… only she was no longer certain she could find her way back out. There was no ferry ride out of this place, no plane ticket, no wave of a magic wand.

  He smiled then, a grin of such pure happiness and joy… neither of which had anything to do with sexual fulfillment.

  Suddenly she felt a chill deep inside her, and not a little fear. “Answer me,” she demanded softly.

  He ignored her sudden urgency, apparently too distracted to note her withdrawal. He slid from her body and rolled to his side, carrying her with him even when she put up a little struggle. She should be clearing her head, exiting this sensual fog he'd gotten her lost in. Something had just happened, something far more involved than two people making love.

  That stopped her. Not having sex. Making love.

  No. She didn't love him. She didn't even know him. But she'd wanted to, wanted to show him there could be more, and she found she still did. And there could be more. Dangerously more, she thought as she looked up into the chiseled perfection of his face.

  “Connal,” she said, but he quietly hushed her, tucking her easily against his chest, as if they'd spent hours, nights, in this very spot. His hands were toying with strands of her hair, and he felt so immensely relaxed she found it hard not to follow him and let the delicious lethargy claiming her body take her mind along with it. Sleep beckoned, and she was in his arms… probably he hadn't meant anything by what he'd said. He'd just been feeling as exultant as she had. And yet, she heard herself asking, “Explain what you meant. What have we well and truly done?”

  He slid his hand down to her belly. “This.”

  She stilled, even as she acknowledged she'd sus-pected this was exactly what he'd meant. Had he thought that by making her miss a single pill, she'd be fertile again? She had to tell him, to explain… to shatter his momentary peace. But he'd said it so surely, with such obvious awe, that she couldn't find it within her to do it. Not now.

  So she said nothing. She let him tuck her head back against his chest, not sure how she felt about leaving him to imagine that he'd finally completed what he'd waited three hundred years for. She should probably feel used, except she didn't. What they'd just shared… well, it had been fully shared. If there had been using, then they were both guilty of it.

  Her thoughts were a jumble, not made any clearer by the slow stroking of his fingertips now along her spine. No, she didn't feel remotely used at the moment, she thought as sleep reached into her and claimed her. She felt… cherished.

  “I dinna think I could feel such joy,” she heard him whisper.

  “Neither did I,” she murmured, safe in the knowledge that it was all a dream.

  Chapter 15

  Are ye sayin’ ye love her, then?” Bagan wanted to know.

  Och, why he had gone and shared the news with the imp was beyond him at the moment. “Couldna ye just be happy for me, for yersel’ as well, and not ask a thousand questions?”

  Bagan hopped down from the window. “I explained this to ye. This is no’ about the bairn, lad, 'tis about giving yer heart. And I canno’ see where ye've done that.” He waved his hands in the air. “I'm no’ so certain ye've even located the thing within ye as yet, much less given it to another.”

  “Very amusing,” Connal said, then scowled. He'd awoken this morning feeling… well, he couldn't even describe it. Fulfilled, perhaps. So much so that his empty bed had only mildly upset him. He'd set out to find Josie, make certain all was well with her… and also make certain she knew there would be no more surfing now that she carried his heir within her. Only he'd encountered Bagan the Worrier instead.

  “I dinna mean to amuse, m'laird. I mean to warn ye no’ to get yer hopes up. The stone's promise has yet to be fulfilled.”

  Connal turned to face him. “I know what happened between us, Guardian. 'Twas… celestial ”

  When Bagan merely raised his white eyebrows, he said, “Dinna give me that look. I know I sound foolish, but there is no other way I can describe it. Only the gods would have enabled two people to join themselves as we did. Surely that union was blessed.”

  Bagan tapped his chin and paced. “Hmmm,” was all he said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Bagan paced on, silent for a moment, then turned to face him. “Ye say ye felt as if the gods had blessed ye. That it was no ordinary rutting about.”

  “It was no’ rutting!” he all but shouted. “It was—”

  “What?” Bagan asked, suddenly very interested in his answer.

  Connal folded his arms and stared once again from the tower portal. “It was no simple slaking of pleasure is all I meant to say.”

  “Hmmm,” Bagan responded again.

  Connal whirled about, this time he'd wring the dwarf's neck for certain, only he found himself alone in the tower. “Just as well, imp,” he warned.

  But as he looked once again out across the water, he couldn't help think on the guardian's words. This wasn't about surrendering his heart. He'd already surrendered his soul, surely that was enough. And it wasn't as if he found Josie abhorrent, in form or in intelligence. Nay, the Fates had seen to that. She'd do well in parenting their child.

  Somewhere deep in his heart there was a small clutch as he imagined it, truly pictured her with a bairn in her arms. Their child. He knew he wouldn't be part of that picture, and felt that small clutch grab at him once again. He swung away from the portal. It didn't matter. His own needs and desires didn't matter in this. Josie would do what Fate had sent her here to do and that was all that mattered.

  His part in this was done. He'd have to trust her as he'd trusted in the promise of the stone.

  Trust her. That was asking much, but it was little enough when the alternative had been to allow Glenmuir, and the hopes of all who came before, to die. His fists tightened and his heart began to pick up speed. Now there was hope. There would be another MacNeil to rebuild Glenmuir!

  He moved to the stairs, a maelstrom of emotions swirling inside him. He must find Josie. Merely to ascertain that she was well, and to put a few rules into place, he told himself. It wasn't because he'd missed seeing her awaken this morning, nor was it due to his own need to have her once again, taste her.

  That stopped him cold. His bargain met now, there'd be no need to have Josie again. Nor to hold her, taste her. This time the clutch was lower and his heart felt as if it paused in midbeat. With all his strategizing, he'd not stopped to think that part through.

  He'd only moments ago told himself his own needs and desires couldn't interfere, shouldn't. And yet… the idea of never touching her again… he couldn't even think on it without feeling that odd ache in his chest.

  He tried to shake off the malaise. He should be celebrating, joyous in the rebirth of hope for Glenmuir. He'd been through much this past night, that was all. The fulfillment of a three-hundred-year-old bargain was enough to toss anyone's emotions about and he'd had a tempest full of them. He resumed his descent. But just because he'd have no need for her in his bed did not mean he was about to leave her alone completely. Nay, he would be involved in this venture, at least in as much as the gods would allow.

  That thought had him slowing again as another realization sprung forth. He was still here today. He had not gone on to his greater glory… or to whatever plane the gods would see fit to send him. As Bagan had reminded him, they'd merely granted him the time to see the stone returned, his mate with it. But surely they knew as he did, as
they'd not taken him the moment he held the stone, that it was only in creating a new life, the next MacNeil, that his destiny would be completely fulfilled.

  Now that time had come. Finally, blessedly, amazingly. His knees folded and he sat hard on the stone step as the totality of this fulfillment washed through him. He'd truly done it.

  The emotions that swept through him were close to overwhelming, but he recognized and could not ignore that not all of them were joyous. Josie would go on alone. At some point, the gods would call him back. Whether it be at the child's birth… or in the next instant, he did not know. And shouldn't care. He'd done what he set out to do.

  Why then was there this piercing emptiness inside him?

  He rubbed at his chest, then pulled his hand away and tightened his fingers into a fist. He'd managed this long with his focus intact, he'd not lose it now with the end so close. But see her he would, as mother of his unborn child and nothing more.

  He stood then and finished his descent. He was across the sandspit and halfway up the beach, heading for the croft, when he saw the footprints. Narrow and long, but perfectly formed… just like their owner.

  He turned and looked down the shoreline and spotted her, trailing just along the water's edge, head bent as if deep in thought.

  “And Lord knows where those thoughts are this morning,” he murmured. Best he had as much influence over them as possible, he told himself as he took off behind her, struggling to keep his newfound determination from wavering. He'd think only of the bairn, no’ of the feel of her, the taste of her, or the way they'd laughed even as they'd gasped in anticipation of their roaring completion.

  Swearing silently as he struggled to block those images from his mind, he strode purposefully along the shoreline toward her.

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder before he caught up. She remained where she stood, waiting for him, but with her hand shading her face against the rising sun, he couldn't see her eyes to be certain of her thoughts.