Kilting Me Softly

by Persephone Jones

  Tonight she’d come full circle to have justice dangled like a carrot in her face and then cruelly snatched into thin air.

  My name is Morgan Keevy and I’ve come to kill you…

  Tonight the words had been a dress rehearsal. The time to say it once and for all was yet to come. Morgan considered the circumstances. All points northeast of their current position were isolated. She considered the geography of her location and took a small measure of comfort in the knowledge that unless the monster could swim, she would have him cornered. Where they were, there were few cars, almost no planes and few boats. Best of all, there would be few people crazy enough to interfere. Even fewer to render aid.

  She glanced at the slumbering man in bed, the dark shadow his lashes made on his cheek like a weeping willow’s wispy branches. His features were the same as the monster who’d done her so much harm, and yet on his twin were totally different. This man was tender, funny, loving. Everything she could want in a man and more.

  But it changed nothing. She would do what she came halfway across the world to do. She would kill her sister’s murderer. If not tonight, tomorrow.

  Morgan glanced at the bed. The sexy beast lay on his stomach, the sheet around his waist. Thank God he was facing the opposite direction. Quiet as a mouse, she sneaked into the bathroom and got herself together. Luckily, she’d packed her bags before Conall showed up and scared her half to death. Now all she had to do was make it past the bed and out the door.

  She turned the doorknob and held it in the event it might make noise when she let go. Turning it silently back into position, she stepped out of the bathroom without making a sound. One quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that Conall remained still and undisturbed, the silhouette of his shape under the covers.

  One more door. As she turned the deadbolt, she prayed the light from the hallway wouldn’t wake Conall. If she slipped out quickly enough, she would be home free. She pushed down on the handle and with a slight pull, the door sprang open.

  And quickly slammed shut with such force as to cause her to cry out.

  There against the wall, hidden in the shadow stood Conall, arm extended away from his body, his hand in the form of a fist. She looked back at the bed and realized he’d put pillows under the sheet and made it look like he was still in bed. A classic trick.

  Morgan looked at Conall, his expression one of quiet discontent. It was raining now. Pouring down the windows and casting a watery reflection on his face. Even angry he was breathtaking.

  “Conall, I—”

  He returned the deadbolt to the locked position without taking his eyes off her. “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  “I said, turn around.”

  God, it wasn’t normal to love the sound of his voice like she did. Especially when he was clearly pissed. But she complied. The weight on her shoulder disappeared as he removed her bags and tossed them aside.

  “Put your hands on the wall.”

  That sent up a red flag and she moved to protest.

  Impatient, he took her by the wrists and placed her hands on the wall above her. “I don’t care if the place is on fire,” he whispered in her ear and moved to the other. “Don’t fucking move.”

  Her mouth went dry and her heart pounded in her ears.

  “All packed and ready to go, I see.”

  “Conall, please—try to understand.”

  “I don’t recall asking you a question.”

  She set her jaw and bit back her colorful reply.

  “You’re dressed for travel. Where’s the slutty skirt?” Conall’s voice seduced from directly behind her, smoothing his hand around the curve of her ass.

  “The sweater that outlines your tits?” He ran his hands up and over her breasts, pinching her nipples as he went. Startled by his rough touch, she squeaked a sharp wordless reply.

  “Those thigh-high stockings?” His fingers traveled back down her trembling body and disappeared between her thighs. When she didn’t answer, he hoisted her off the floor with his hand, his forearm like a giant hook.

  “In my bag.” Overcome with relief, she squeezed her eyes shut when he set her back down.

  “So you’re gonna run? Is that it?” His voice was like an entity all its own. There in the dark it embodied everything about him—tenderness, humor and a hint of danger.

  “Conall.”

  “I think one of us is a little overdressed. What do you think?”

  She didn’t answer. Couldn’t find one suitable. Much less her tongue.

  He tugged a handful of her hair with the right amount of forceful tenderness. “That was a question.”

  “That’s for you to decide.”

  He paused, she hoped impressed by her reply.

  “That’s good, Morgan. That’s very good. Because it is for me to decide.” He brushed his nose on her ear.

  Conall bent down, the muscles in his upper back and shoulders on display, his biceps and the long lean muscles of his forearms twisting and flexing as he worked to unlace and remove her boots.

  At the risk of raising his ire, she twisted a little, trying to explain herself. “Conall, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “Face the wall.”

  She didn’t like that he wouldn’t engage her. Talk to her directly. She needed to apologize. To be forgiven. Explain once again until he understood.

  He stood close, wrapping his arms around her waist. But not to hold her. His fingers worked at her waist, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. Without gentleness, he pulled them down her legs. When he got to her ankles, he lifted her feet one at a time, eased them off and threw them in a wad across the room.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” In complete control, he ran his fingertips down the insides of her arms, evoking a shiver within her. The realization that he was naked behind her made her pussy weep with arousal. He couldn’t remove her clothes fast enough.

  Slipping a finger inside the elastic waistband of her panties, he breathed in her ear. “I don’t think you’ll be needing these.”

  Holding a handful of material in one hand, he gave the panties a sharp tug and they fell to the floor in tatters.

  With her lower body fully exposed to him, she gasped, not out of fear but anticipation. Now there was nothing between them but skin.

  He ran a hand down one of her buttocks, squeezing the plentiful flesh in his grip. “You’ve got a beautiful ass, Morgan. You know that?”

  She shook her head, feeling her arousal grow in intensity. No. No man had ever told her that.

  “Makes me hard. So fucking hard.”

  He directed his cock to the crack of her ass and her breath hitched in her throat. Helpless to her desire, she bucked her hips, eager to have him fill her.

  “Oh no, no, no.” He chuckled wickedly. “You don’t get off that easy.” Teasing her, he rubbed her with the smooth head.

  To her surprise, a soft sob escaped her. The pent-up tension his caress created and recent events being what they were, she’d reached her maximum capacity for stress, good or bad. She needed a release. Now.

  Conall wrapped his arms around her and she awakened once more to the healing power of his touch. “You were thinking of leaving.” His voice hung in the air above her head.

  “Yes.”

  “He’d come after you.” Tenderly, he kissed the crown of her head. “And then I’d come after you.”

  He’d intended his words to be a joke. Morgan conjured a small smile. “I know.”

  “And then you’d never see the light of day.”

  A secret thrill raced up her spine at the thought. She knew he’d make good on his promise. The next time it would be she who was tied to the bed.

  “You must be punished.”

  Morgan swallowed hard, uncertain she would be able to remain standing.

  “You’re trembling, Morgan. Are you excited?”

  “Yes.” Excited wasn’t the word. Electrified was more like it.

  “Good.” He blew a
triumphant sigh softly in her ear. “Now spread your legs.”

  She did as she was told.

  “More.”

  The second time she overcompensated.

  “So eager. Too far.”

  Adjusting in tiny increments, Morgan brought her feet closer together.

  “Right there. Stop.”

  She concentrated on the sound of his voice guiding her. Everything else fell away.

  “Just enough that I can see all of you.” He backed up a little. “Do you know what I mean when I say all of you, Morgan?”

  “No,” she answered, her voice soft and subservient.

  “I mean I can see both your beautiful little pussy and your ass.”

  Beyond her control, a sharp chirp of surprise escaped her. Surprise and delight.

  “I can’t decide which one I want.”

  Sweat trickled down her side. She was still wearing her coat and was not permitted to lower her arms to remove it.

  “So I’ll have both.”

  Both? Until recently, she was a virgin. And she had never let a man near her ass. That would explain her thundering pulse. “But first things first.”

  He brought his hand firmly against her backside.

  She yelped, her entire body going up in flames.

  Then another. Enthralled, she blinked away her tears and concentrated on the delicious anticipation of the next whack.

  Then another.

  He slipped his hand between her thighs and dragged it over her clit, through the silken folds of her pussy lips, causing her to arch her back like a cat. “What’s this?”

  No way to hide it. Her desire laid bare, now he saw what he did to her.

  “Mmm.” His voice hummed in her ear, tickling her to her toes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked it.”

  Emotion taking her by total surprise, she started to weep uncontrollably. There would be no reining it in.

  “Oh God, Morgan.” Conall spun her around and brought her to him in a crushing embrace. “If something happened to you, I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.”

  Morgan let go and cried like a baby. And the beauty of it was he let her. He didn’t chide her, try to stop her or ask questions. He just held her. “You must know you can’t run from Destiny, Morgan. She has an uncanny way of finding you.”

  Lord, did she know the truth of his words. Right about now it seemed Destiny had her big thumb directly on her. And yet it was still difficult to accept. Especially certain parts. “Is it true, what you said about being a wer—”

  His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. “Werewolf.”

  She put her fingers to his kissable mouth and he took them in his hand. “Is everyone in your family like you and Ciaran?”

  He chuckled softly. “No. Just us.”

  Her eyes flooded with tears and instinctively she shielded her face. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes but…it’s crazy.”

  “No crazier than anything that’s happened so far.”

  Her eyes locked on him once more. Crazy as it was, the man who could morph into a snarling, salivating beast was now the voice of reason. He was right. God help her.

  “How?”

  He shook his head, casting his gaze downward. “It’s a long, ugly story.”

  “Tell me.”

  Conall sighed and paused as if collecting his thoughts. “My father, Alastair McCade, was a married man when he met my mother, Ismay. They had an affair and she got pregnant with my brother and me. My father’s wife Maire learned she was also pregnant. As you can imagine, Maire was devastated. She sought out Elspet, a woman everyone in the village feared, for obvious reasons as it turns out. She agreed to curse my father and his mistress, my mother.”

  Morgan’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh God.”

  “When my brother and I went through puberty, we began changing. When it happened, when we first turned, our mother saw us and went mad. She couldn’t live knowing her sons were monsters. She killed herself. And our father, rest his soul, drank himself to death trying to take care of Ciaran and me.”

  That hardly seemed fair. Any of it. “Why are you being punished for something you didn’t do?”

  Had she really said that?

  Conall’s deep eyes softened and he smiled.

  “You’ve come a long way, suffered unduly. But this is your place. Right here. Right now…” She liked the warm comfort of his hand on her face far too much. And his words even more. “With me.”

  Morgan opened her mouth but no good argument came out.

  “On me. On my cock.”

  He took her speechlessness for submission, claiming her mouth with a kiss that rendered her defenseless in his arms. Exploring the soft terrain of her body against him, he tested its sensitive responses with his fingertips. A gentle feather touch seduced her into his arms, tense with anticipation, while a rough squeeze yielded pliant obedience. The lower his hand moved, the harder her heart pounded in her chest.

  “Let me get your coat, “ he whispered, a delightful, mocking edge to his voice as he eased the heavy wool from her shoulders. Her body was covered in light perspiration, yet she shivered every time their skin made contact.

  His fingers found the edge of her sweater and pulled it over her head. In the quiet rush to leave the room, she’d opted not to wear a bra. Naked, she leaned against the wall for support as Conall’s hungry male gaze floated down her body.

  He took her by the hand and led her back to the bed. With a kiss, she was beneath him once again, captive in his embrace. Fingers laced in his hair, she braced herself as he kissed his way down her abdomen.

  She knew if he put his mouth on her, she would lose her grip on what remained of her sanity. Knew if he touched her there, claimed her, she was his. But she didn’t dare stop him.

  Her entire frame shook with the promise of it.

  “Shhh.”

  The hot river of tears that painted her cheeks dried under the scorching heat of her arousal. The warm expanse of his palm cupped her pussy, letting her hyper-responsive nerves adjust to the feel of him. Her hand clutched his and received a comforting kiss as her body relaxed. A finger dipped into her dewy center with ease. She watched him taste her and his expression made her dizzy with desire.

  “Your desire’s so strong, Morgan. It nearly matches my own.”

  Expertly, he brought her to the edge, until she was arching and mewling for more. Tuned in to her body’s frequency, he played havoc on her resolve, alternating in his heavenly assault from his fingers to his tongue to a wanton use of both. Paralyzed by the onslaught of sensation coursing through her body, she came in a sudden rush of exhilaration. Wave after wave of euphoria washed over her. Conall was her sexy anchor, holding her down, pinning her to the bed with his strong arms and sinful lips. When he sensed her climax was waning, he withdrew, calmed her and started all over again. It wasn’t long before she was begging him.

  “Fuck me, Conall, please, please, please…”

  “I intend to, love. For as long as you’ll have me.”

  His tongue and cock were in perfect sync, kissing and fucking her like a pair of twin lovers, reducing her to pure liquid fire. Upon joining with him, she sensed a delicious shudder rack him from head to toe, conveying how hard he worked to keep control.

  “You’re so tight and hot. I love it.”

  With skillful strokes that drew out their pleasure, he moved in and out of her with a tenderness she didn’t know was possible. Like an elixir in the hands of a healer, he used her body to relieve the anguish in her soul. Somehow he knew that was what she needed.

  “Was I your first, Morgan?”

  “Yes,” she confessed. An odd shame flushed over her. She’d let the wrong things define her life. Pain, anger, revenge instead of pleasure, joy and peace.

  “God forgive me.” Once again he referred to their first mating, heated and distressed. “Let me be your last…”

  Despite everything, her heart soared. “Yes.”
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  “Say you’ll be mine and mine alone.” He implored and kissed her, denying her a response, banishing any chance of rejection and not willing to wager it. But her kiss encouraged him, urged him not to stop.

  “Yes.”

  “Say you’ll let me make love to you forever and ever.” Conall’s words changed her. Not just physically and emotionally, but on a spiritual level. At his touch, the raw wound inside her healed and she stirred with longing. She surrendered to him and held back nothing of herself. Her hips lifted against him higher and higher, grinding against him, offering sweet surrender.

  “Yes. I will, I will, I will.”

  “Ah God, I can feel you…” His breathy sigh confessed the fading grip on his control.

  Seeing him in such a state of arousal made her mad with desire. She knew he was coming and she ached for it, yearned for it with her entire being, rocking her hips with his to a guaranteed path to bliss. “I can feel you coming.”

  Yet a sliver of the pain was still there. Megan would never know this ecstasy, this joy. And to think on it if only for a split second was not perverse but somehow reverent. This was love. Love was what made life worth living. And the notion that someone she loved would never experience this wondrous miracle broke her heart.

  The sweat-drenched sheet in her grip, she yielded to the euphoria usurping her pain and let the marvelous rapture take hold. Conall let out a cry that sounded as much like surprise as relief at the grand emotions radiating through every cell of his body.

  Something about this mating had been different, more powerful, richer. Flush with the warmth of their afterglow, he held her against him.

  “Forgive me.”

  “For what?” she asked, her heartbeat returning to normal.

  “You know what for.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “For the first time.”

  While it was true that she’d never been taken in such a forceful manner, Morgan was far from wounded by it.

  In the darkened room, she couldn’t see his shame but could hear it in his voice. “I’m not accustomed to behaving in such ways.”

  Moved by his consideration of her, she caressed his face. “I’m all right.”

  He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek. “You bring out the beast in me, Morgan Keevy.”