Page 66 of A Celtic Vow
“I did, though,” he whispered hoarsely. “And I fantasized about it more than ye could possibly imagine,mo thine.” He chanted away their clothes and ran his eyes so slowly over her she could almost feel it. “I knew what men did to women. Other ways enjoyment could be found.”
When he trailed his fingers from the indentation between her collarbone all the way down to her navel, she trembled with awareness.
“I prayed that if nothing else,” he went on, “I’d someday be able to show ye the pleasures a lass should experience. See that joy on yer face.”
“Yet it was in my heart all the while,” she managed. “Youwere in my heart.”
And he was. From the moment she participated in the ceremony that made her an official Unnamed One for as long as she could remember of that life.
Aodh offered no response but trailed his fingers lower. Touched her the way he’d longed to touch her when they grew older in their last life. Touched her as a husband should have been able to touch his wife. A king, his queen.
While tempted to close her eyes in pleasure, she kept her gaze with his when he stroked the sensitive flesh between her thighs. When he pressed first one finger, then two inside her and kissed her. Murmured against her lips that he would have been willing to do this to the end of their days.
It became difficult to breathe when his mouth left hers, and he suckled first one nipple, then the other. Harder still when he traveled lower and showed her how very good he was with his tongue. With his fingers. How easily he could keep her on the edge. How quickly he could push her over when she arched, cried out, and climaxed against his mouth.
“But you never did,” she finally whispered once she caught her breath. He had rested his cheek against her belly and closed his eyes as if cherishing every little twinge and jerk of pleasure her body made. “You respected what I had become until the very end. I’m certain of it.”
“Not what ye had become.” He dropped kisses from her belly button to between her breasts before he met her eyes, and his dragon pupils flared. “What ye hadalwaysbeen.” He cupped her cheek and shook his head. “Don’t ye see? Even though what yer head druidess did was pure torture, ‘twas always where ye were meant to be. Always what ye were supposed to do.”
She went to deny him, but he put a finger to her lips. “Nay, my wife, my druidess,mo thine.” He shook his head again. “Surely ye see now. Surely ye understand that ‘twas the gods’ blessing, even mayhap yer own god, that saw ye into the hands of women who could guide ye. That could take yer gift and expand it even further than it already went.”
Constance went to deny it again but couldn’t because she felt the truth in his words. Knew he was right. She might not like that they were torn apart or what he’d agreed to but knew her coven had taught her about herself. Helped her grow into someone who not only helped people but nature and animals.
Someone who protected and helpedIreland.
They ensured all that sprang from her protection followed the natural order of things. Were kept as safe as they were meant to be. Born when they should have been born. Died when they should have died.
Just like King’s Heart, she had lent order and comfort in all things
“But I’m not King’s Heart,” she whispered, accepting yet confused by the timeless knowledge washing over her. “None of us are.”
“All of us are.” His tender gaze roamed her face with such love, admiration, and certainty she felt humbled. “All interconnected.” He brushed his lips across hers and settled between her thighs. “All part of this land.”
He didn’t say anything after that, but then there was no need when he pressed into her. When she spread her thighs and welcomed him deeper. Gasped and arched into the feel of him as he filled her completely.
That’s when she understood.
Making love at the waterfall had been their dragons consummating their marriage. What was happening now was their humans. The simple girl and boy they had been in their old life before they were torn apart. The connection they had shared before fate took them in different directions.
This time they got to be man and wife. Fall in love,bein love, like they never could before. Move beyond all the taboo and rules and ruining of pure beings and simply make love. Feel each other from the inside out. Experience what would have been had the druidesses not shown up that day. Had his father approved their marriage, and they were able to come together as one that very night.
“This is ours this time,” she whispered, sinking into the sensations he invoked as their eyes stayed with one another’s and he moved. Thrust into her not intensely, but with a heartfelt passion she felt deep down inside. “All ours.”
Sometimes it was fast, sometimes slow, but always loving. Always a merging of flesh and souls that transcended two lives. A coming together that was forever meant for them.
That he had followed her through time for.
They grew sweat-slicked as their passion intensified. Heated their skin. Steamed the air. Ignited both the magic of her inner druidess and dragon. Pulled everything inside her to the surface as they moved together. Loved one another. As everything swelled and swelled until release crashed into them both. One so strong they had no choice but to melt down next to each other afterward.
To give into a slumber that rolled back the clock once more.
She blinked, trying to acclimate herself when she stood in a dream that seemed so real. The forest was bright and lush. The brisk wind smelled of wildflowers and wood smoke. Of poignant herbs being cooked in a kettle over a fire nearby.
“How fare ye?” Siobhán asked, looking directly at her. Or so she thought until she turned and saw her former self behind her. She was older now. Somewhere in her early to mid-twenties. Siobhán looked just as she did today in the eleventh century.
“I fare well, mistress.” Constance’s incarnate lowered her head in respect before she gestured at what she’d been making. “Come. Join me. I think mayhap I have finally perfected my stew.”
When Siobhán offered a wary smile, Constance recalled she’d been many things, but a good cook wasn’t one of them.
