Legend

A Total-e-bound Publication

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Legend Anthology ISBN # 978-1-906590-61-1 A Legend Arises ©Copyright Brynn Paulin 2008 Gaining Hope ©Copyright Lacey Thorn 2008 Moonlit Magic ©Copyright Bronwyn Green 2008 Healing Doctor Ryan ©Copyright Carol Lynne 2008 A Legend Accomplished ©Copyright Brynn Paulin 2008 Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright June 2008 Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz Total-e-bound books This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-e-bound eBooks. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-e-bound eBooks. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2008 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning/Total-e-melting.

LEGEND ANTHOLOGY

A Legend Arises BrynnPaulin

Gaining Hope Lacey Thorn

Moonlit Magic Bronwyn Green

Healing Doctor Ryan Carol Lynne

A Legend Accomplished Brynn Paulin

A LEGEND ARISES Brynn Paulin

Author Notice Dear Reader, Research shows that glass bottles were produced as early as 1500 BC when Syrian workers discovered glassblowing. This art spread quickly throughout the Roman empire, taking glass bottles into many homes. Most bottles were opaque, but soon fully transparent, colourless glass became available. This is the sort of handcrafted bottle that would be available to Ailig in 1200. However, the sort of durable bottle used in this story will not exists until the 17th century. Despite this, I have used creative license to further this story. ~Brynn Paulin

Dedication To the Torrid Tartlets. I’m glad you’re my friends.

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Chapter One

Legend has it that long, long ago, a great knight fell in love with a fair maiden. He took her to wife and together they lived in his great keep high on a hill overlooking the ocean… Northern England, 1263 “Emma!” Ailig Bennett bellowed as he left his horse in the care of his squire and rushed into his keep. Behind him, the ocean crashed against the shore at the foot of the hills where his keep had been built. He cared little for it or the oncoming storm. He pulled off his leather gloves as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the great hall. Servants scurried around, lighting torches to break the oncoming darkness. “Emma,” he called again. He headed towards the doorway at the back of the wall which would lead to the stairs spiralling to the upper chambers housed in the north tower. The solar was there and no doubt Emma, as well, as she bent over her stitching. He smiled at the thought of pulling his new bride into his arms and unravelling her carefully braided hair. Would she welcome him with as much vigour as that which coursed through his veins? He’d left her behind on their wedding day, answering the urgent call of his king. On that day he’d hated his liege, but with King Henry’s contingent of messengers waiting, he had been unable to tarry. Today, finally, he would be one with his bride. Reaching the floor above the great hall, he strode towards his thinking chamber. Another set of stairs within it lead to the solar. “Emma,” he called more gently as he crested the top of the stairs. His bride stood in the large chamber, her back to him as she stared through an arrow slot at the waves below. His breath caught at the sight of her long brown braids cascading to her slim waist. He could not wait to give the bride gift he had purchased for her on his journey. She spun at the sound of his voice, a smile lighting her face.

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Perhaps he could wait to gift her. He would wait until after they’d united. His manhood stirred beneath his heavy knee-length mail, lengthening and thickening in his need for his wife. He had waited so long for her, more than the months this latest call to duty had required. Emma had long ago caught his eye. He had curried her favour in the ways he had learned in the king’s courts until her green eyes shone with the love he felt in his middle. “Ailig,” she exclaimed, dashing towards him. Her arms closed around his neck as he lifted her into his embrace. His mouth took hers as one hand lifted to bury in her hair, already pulling loose strands free. She tasted of honey and Emma. He groaned as his lips pushed hers apart and his tongue delved inside, scraping along hers as he reclaimed her sweet mouth. How he’d dreamed of the pleasure while he had been away, this one pleasure he had indulged before they were wed. This one pleasure he’d taken many times after they were wed, the last moments before the king’s messengers had dragged him away to his duty. Emma made a small sound and pressed into him, her arms tightening around his neck. Unlike many noble marriages, theirs was a love match. Indeed, Emma had not been a noble until he’d taken her to bride. She’d been the daughter of a merchant in the village a short distance from the keep. Though he was noble, it had taken some time to claim her. Emma had feared marrying a knight and losing him to battle. As if to feed that fear, the king had called him away immediately. It had ripped at Ailig’s gut to see the terror in her eyes. Today, he would show her he was safe and well and her fear was unjustified. He was one of the king’s best knights. He would always return. “You’ve had mead,” she laughed, when he pulled away to kiss his way along her jaw and down her neck. He nudged aside the fabric of her tunic and nipped the junction where her neck met her shoulder. Emma’s breath came in gasps and her head tilted slightly backward to give him better access. Her small hand cupped the back of his head, her fingers flexing into his hair as he aroused her. “Courage,” he told her. “You need no courage for me, husband.” “Mayhaps, I do.” “Nay. I am eager for you, love. I want you to make me your wife.” Leaning back in his arms, she stroked her thumbs along his cheekbones as she gazed into his eyes. Wonder filled her own eyes as she drew the pad of one finger over his bottom lip. “You have no fear?”

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She blushed, looking down. “I wish to be fully yours. Forgive me if that is unseemly.” Unseemly? Sweet Lord, she was everything a knight could dream of for his maiden wife. “Nay, love, I am pleased that you want me.” She met his eyes again, her innocence and curiosity wrapping around him. His brave love. “I am not afraid. The maids who attend me have told me of the…pleasures of having a man sheathed within. They say the pain is brief.” He felt her tremble as she spoke. Perhaps she wasn’t completely free of fear. Soon, she would learn. He would give her such decadent delight. They would lie abed for days, exploring each other. Slipping his arm beneath her legs, he lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the second set of stairs to the side of her solar which led the way to their bedchamber. “Ailig, how I’ve missed you.” “Is there no one else to bring you wildflowers?” he laughed. Her lips brushed his ear. “No one else to make me shiver inside.” “Sweet virgin mother,” he gasped. Emma smiled angelically at him. Holding her close so that he didn’t knock her head against the wall in the narrow stairway, he climbed to their bed chamber, shoving the thick door closed after he entered. He carried her to the heavy carved wood bed. She smiled up at him as he laid her in the centre of the mattress, the thick blankets and linens cradling her body. “Do not move,” he told her. “As you wish, my lord,” she replied. Still, she raised up on her elbows and watched him. He ripped off his mantle, surcoat and belt then tossed them aside before bending at the waist and letting his mail slink from his body and onto the floor. He pulled off his boots and returned to the bed, still wearing his thick tunic and hose. Even through those coverings, he knew his arousal was evident as it pushed forward, seeking its home. He knelt on the bed, crawling towards her, and she fell backwards, opening her arms to him. Carefully, Ailig lay along her side. His leg pushed between hers as he cradled her chin in his hand and kissed her again. His tongue swept inside her sweet mouth, tasting her treasures and promises. He released her chin to cup her head as he moved to lay halfway over her, and his fingers slid

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into her hair. Thankfully, she’d foregone the wimple she hated to wear, still he pulled back, his brow furrowed, as he encountered her intricate braids. He wanted to love her, but he wanted to feel her silky hair in his palms as he did. With a groan, he sat, pulling her with him and turning her to face away from him. “What—?” she started before he shushed her. “I want to see your hair. I have never had the pleasure.” Before they’d married, her mother had always forced her to wear head coverings, though he’d still seen Emma’s bound hair once or twice. And of course her hair had been covered at their wedding. He’d so looked forward to that night… He kissed her neck as he began to unravel the bottom of one plait. His lips travelled to her ear, tracing the sensitive lobe. “I’ve long awaited this intimacy between husband and wife,” he whispered. Emma looked over her shoulder at him, a blush tingeing her skin. She pushed back a chin-length strand of hair which brushed her cheek in the draughty chamber. Her teeth caught the inside of her bottom lip as she gazed at him with passion-darkened eyes still filled with the curiosity of innocence. “Hurry,” she urged. “I’ve seen my hair. I am eager to learn of other pleasures.” “You are a wanton maiden, are you not?” She grinned. “If it pleases you. Oh Ailig, I have missed your kisses and our time together.” As had he. He knew her well, as her parents had allowed many stolen moments in the months before their marriage—likely because of his status of overlord. He’d supped with her family on numerous occasions, as well. But he’d never taken any liberties that would jeopardise her reputation. His maiden wife was without stain. Within minutes, he had the lustrous strands freed to flow down her back and pool on the bed behind her. Burying his hands in the silken mass, he leaned forward and pressed his face to her sweet-smelling hair.

Emma shivered as Ailig held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair as if it could sustain him. And maybe the memory of her unfettered hair would go with him when he travelled afar. It was thoughts of him which got her through the long days and nights alone in this draughty keep.

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Unfamiliar sensations darted through her, gripping her womb in a warm, tight grasp that filled with the fire that seemed to grow there. That same liquid fire afflicted her woman’s flesh and she burned for something she could not name. Her maid had told her she would be filled with the need for her husband. And in truth, she’d felt this before—when he’d kissed her and murmured his desire for her and how he couldn’t wait to make her completely his. She forced herself not to flinch when his hands wandered around her waist to cup her breasts. It wasn’t that his touch repelled her—it was unfamiliar. As he found her nipple through the layers of cloth, rubbing it and pulling at the sensitive flesh, she moaned and tipped her head back on his shoulder. Her fingers clenched on his thighs as he knelt behind her. Every instinct told her to lift her hands to his and stop the illicit taunting of his fingers, but she would not. This was his right and she wanted him to do this. She craved it and she wanted more. Unbelievable ribbons of delight wove through her. The sensations stole her breath and sent a flood of moisture between her thighs. What would he think when he touched her and found her so wet with her desire? Abandoning her breasts, he reached down and grasped her surcoat, tunic and chemise. His fingers fisted in the fabric as he drew all the layers upward. A knot formed in her throat as he bared her legs and she glanced away. “Beautiful,” Ailig murmured. Emma looked up, meeting his eyes and seeing the hot desire burning there. His gaze dipped, but she continued to watch his face as he continued to draw up her clothing. The cool air licked at her heated flesh as her garments raised to her waist, baring her naked pussy, as her maid had called it. A moment later, he had her tunics and chemise over her head and tossed to the floor. Gently, he guided her to rest against their pillows. She fought the self-conscious urge to cover herself as he sat beside her and looked down at her. Her arms lay at her sides, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she fought her nerves. Despite her agitation, her body continued to respond to Ailig, flooding her with heat and drawing her exposed breasts tight. He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, carefully unfolding her fingers. “What’s this?” She tried to smile. “I find I’m not as brave as I’d thought. It’s not that I don’t want you—”

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Her words cut off as he drew a finger along her belly and the flesh quaked beneath his touch. “I know, love,” he told her. “Do not fret. I will care for you.” She nodded, more afraid of her reactions than anything else. She’d been taught to be reserved, something she often lost when she was with Ailig. But she wanted to be a good wife to him with decorum and the stateliness her parents had driven into her. “How will you care for me?” she finally asked as he pulled off her hose and slippers, tossing them aside, as well. He grinned, removing his own tunic and hose. She loved his boyish grin and it was perhaps what she’d missed most when he was away. Whenever his eyes twinkled and his lips twisted upwards with their roguish secrets, she knew something enjoyable was on the way. She barely knew how to think as she took in his nakedness. His wide chest had a sprinkling of dark curling hair which diminished to a thin line then disappeared until below his navel where it started again. His thickly muscled arms flexed as they rested on his thighs, framing the ridges of muscle in his abdomen. Finally, her gaze followed the thin line of hair there as it widened and cradled his manhood. She stared at his erect rod, her eyes wide. She itched to reach out and investigate its firm lines, trace the thick veins up the shaft and run her thumb over the wide head crowning it. Swallowing, she contemplated its length and girth and exactly what he was supposed to do with it. “How?” she asked again. He drew his hand over the length of his cock. “I’m going to make you tremble.” “I am already trembling. My insides are rattling like a stampede of horses.” “You will moan and shudder and cry out beneath me as pleasure overwhelms you.” He smiled as if he knew the battle that waged inside her—the fight for reserve while her insides screamed to be released to the wanton pleasure overtaking her. His fingers stroked along the inside of her thigh while her woman’s flesh quivered, yet he never touched it. “You look surprised. You did not think you would lay there while you ‘endured’ your husband?” “It is what my mother warned me to expect.” “And your maids?” Her cheeks flamed. “They spoke of things I cannot mention.”

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He leaned forward, his warm body pressed to hers. Sensation seemed to explode wherever their skin touched. His lips brushed hers. “There are no secrets between a husband and his wife,” he said against her mouth. “Not in their bed.” Kisses feathered along her jaw, down her neck and over her shoulder to the rise of her breast. Emma stopped breathing as his mouth travelled closer to the peak where her nipple had knotted into a hard little nub. Ailig traced the edge of the tanned flesh with flicks of his tongue until, finally, his mouth engulfed the crest. Instinctively, she arched up into him while her hands buried in his thick, black hair. Dormant reactions took life within her, filling her with feelings she’d never before experienced. Tiny explosions rocked through her middle, shooting from her breast to her womb in ever-strengthening succession. “Ailig,” she moaned. “I—” Her ability to speak deserted her as he cupped her other breast, working the nipple with his fingers in the same way he worked the other with his mouth and tongue. She pressed her legs together as he tugged on her pliant flesh and moisture began to leak to her thighs. Her eyes squeezed shut as she realised she was unable to control her reactions and prayed heartily that he’d find her pleasing. He lifted his mouth and blew on the tormented peak. “More,” she whispered. “Much more.” Ailig took the peak again while his hand travelled down her belly to her mound. She tensed as he brushed over her curls. One long finger worked between her clenched thighs and into the cleft no one else had ever touched. Immediately, spasms soared through her and she gasped, a small cry erupting from her lips. That single finger worked along her folds, sliding through the moisture there. “Oh, love,” he murmured. “You are so wet. So perfect. Part your lovely legs for me so that I might touch more of you.” She bit her lip and inched her legs apart. Aileg instantly worked his knee between hers, opening her further for his touch. Kneeling between her thighs, he pushed them wide and stared down at her woman’s flesh. Gently, he spread her folds. “Ailig…” she whispered, embarrassed.

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Without answering, he leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her exposed pussy. A sharp cry exploded from her lips as his mouth sent unexpected strands of pleasure shooting into her womb where the sensation clenched into a tight throbbing ball. Her entire body seemed to respond, reaction vibrating across her skin and muddling her thoughts. Nothing existed but Ailig’s mouth on her. Relentlessly, he lapped at her folds, nipping at the top of her opening and nearly sending her flying through the tower’s roof. She realised suddenly that she’d lifted her hips to him, silently begging for more. “Merciful heaven,” she murmured. With wide eyes, she stared down at his dark head between her thighs and felt her body clench at just the sight. Knowing she was losing her hold on control, she squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her head back into the pillows. Ailig continued his sweet torment. While he sucked at the apex of her flesh, he slipped a finger inside her. Immediately her body clenched around him. Slowly, he worked in and out. “Emma,” he groaned. “I must be inside you. I cannot wait.” “Oh, please, yes.” Rising over her, Ailig kissed her and she tasted a tangy flavour she knew could only be herself. She had little time to contemplate it as he fitted his cock to her opening. “Only a moment, love,” he said. “I promise.” “Wh—” Her question broke off into a small cry as he surged forward, breaching her virgin flesh and seating himself within her untried channel. Her breath fluttered from her as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings. Ailig didn’t move his hips, leaving his manhood lodged deep within her while he kissed her neck. Waiting… She sensed his tension as he fought to stay still until she grew accustomed to the feel of him. As he’d promised, the pain receded quickly. Experimenting, she moved. A slight twinge…but something else… There was so much more. Pleasure moved through her, tentatively at first, then growing. Clasping Ailig’s shoulders she moved again on his rod. She needed…more…but she didn’t know what to do. She’d die from unfulfilled need if this was all there was. His lips brushed against her ear. “Ready, love?” “Oh please…” Her words seemed to trigger his action and he surged, moving even deeper within her. She groaned as his pelvis rubbed into hers, then was suddenly gone as he withdrew. Over

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and over he thrust and withdrew. All the while, she cascaded higher on the waves of pleasure taking her while she hung onto Ailig’s shoulders as if he was her anchor to this life. She sought him, her body clasping his rod and meeting his whenever he moved forward. The crash of their sexes was no less powerful than lightning as it thundered through her. Suddenly, the sensations twisted within her, taking a life of their own and racing to every part of her body. Her fingers curled into him, her toes pressing into the bed and her back arching from it. “Ailig,” she screamed. “Yes,” he replied, pounding harder, then freezing mid-motion. He jerked, his face a mask of pleasure-pain. Heat poured into her. It flooded her womb. Another wave of release riffled through her, a beautiful breeze of love gently rattling her senses. “Oh love,” Ailig moaned, collapsing to her side. He pulled her into his tight embrace. His kisses covered her face and shoulders. “You are perfect. And finally mine,” he murmured. “Finally mine.” She drew back and pushed his damp hair from his brow. “I have always been yours.” “And you always will be.” Delight filled her, completing her happiness. She knew without words that she had pleased him well and already her body craved more of him. Coupling was like the finest mead. One sip was not enough. She must truly be as wanton as he had teased. She wanted to partake of him every day until the grave took her. Or until King Henry calls on him again. The dark thought intruded on her happiness. Her heart lurched with dread of what she knew would come and tears pricked her eyes. She buried her face in his arm for she’d been given the curse of vision and she saw the frightening things that others knew naught.

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Chapter Two

“I’ve brought you something,” Ailig said sometime later as he lay beside her and explored her body. Idly, he stroked her collarbone. His fingers trailed to the valley between her breasts and up one slope. He rolled one nipple between his fingers, wondering what it would be like to see their son suckle there. As God willed it, it would be soon. Perhaps even now, his child took root. Her back arched as she pushed into his touch. “Having you return safe and whole is gift enough. I need no trinkets.” “Ah, beloved, I would give you everything if I could.” She drew a hand along his back. “I have enough.” “You make it hard for me to leave your side long enough to get your gift.” He kissed her hard and leapt from the bed. It took him a moment to find his belt and the pouch attached to it. Grabbing the small bag, he returned to the bed. “You are not giving me gold,” she laughed. “Nay, nothing so crude for my beloved.” Sitting beside her, he opened the bag and withdrew the cloth-wrapped trinket within. “Close your eyes,” he told her. Then he pulled free his gift and placed it around her neck. The green orb wrapped in silver seemed to glow against her pale skin, accentuated by her dark hair and matching the green of her eyes. Opening her eyes, she glanced down then lifted the necklace in her hands. “It is beautiful.” “It is blessed. So that we might have an eternity together.” “Ailig. I want nothing else,” she whispered. A sadness seemed to enter her eyes, but she drew him down and kissed him before he could question her. His cock stirred. “I want you again, but I do not think it is wise.” “Why?” Reaching down, he stroked his fingers over her damp pussy. She winced as he touched her tender opening. “You are still too sore from our last coupling.” “Nay.” “Emma, we must wait.”

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She grinned and he saw bedevilment in her eyes. God help him, he loved it. He wanted whatever she planned—and he knew she had something in mind. Emma always had something swirling within her keen thoughts. He didn’t resist as she pushed him to his back. A blush coloured her chest and rushed up to her cheeks but it didn’t stop her as she straddled him. Her sweet pussy rested on his belly while she braced her arms on his shoulders. Her new necklace hung between them. It grazed his chest like a naughty finger as she swayed, rubbing her bottom against his rigid cock. “Where have you learned this, love?” he asked. Her blush deepened. “I came upon my maid and her lover in the stable. They shared such pleasure.” The necklace rested against his neck, the chain pooling around it as she leaned in and kissed him. “I am afraid I will need your help. I ran out before I saw very much of their loving.” His good intentions flew through the tower’s window. He wrapped his fingers around the necklace, holding her to him. Her face was mere inches above his. “Lift up, love,” he ordered. Obediently, Emma raised her hips. Reaching between them, he fitted his cock to her fiery opening. Its sweet liquid-filled warmth beckoned him, but he was determined to leave this to her. He stared into her wide green gaze. “Now, lower yourself. Keep your eyes open so that I can watch you.” Her lips formed a circle as she complied, her tight channel squeezing him as she slowly took him. She bit her lip, her brows drawing together as he filled her and a strangled moan caught in her throat. He released the chain and helped her up so that her arms were again braced on his shoulders. “Now ride me,” he told her. “I know not—” “Like your steed, Emma.” “But—” Clasping her hips, he showed her the way, helping her to ride his cock. He felt himself thicken within her as his arousal grew. Emma’s unschooled movements only drew his need higher. “That’s it, love,” he gasped.

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Little cries erupted from her as she bucked against him, her short jerking movements like a fist dragging him closer to release. He knew this position would take her quickly to her own release. Thankfully. He would not hold out long. “Ailig!” she cried. Her hips shoved back and forth against his, the necklace swinging like a pendulum between them. Leaning upward, he captured one beaded crest between his lips. The pliant flesh pushed against his tongue and he tormented the peak until Emma cried out. She lifted one arm to curve behind his head to hold him to her chest. He was so close. The head of his cock throbbed and his balls drew up to his body, tingling with the need to explode within her. Reaching down, he grasped her hips. Ruthlessly, he guided her up and down his shaft in a rapid rhythm that had her screaming her pleasure while his drew closer. Her honey flooded around him while the walls of her pussy closed on him so tightly he could barely move. The tight clasp shot him over the edge of his restraint. His seed exploded from his body. Long spurts jerked from him, flooding her womb with his pleasure for her. She giggled as she collapsed onto his chest. “What is it?” he asked. “It seems I was not too sore after all, husband.” He grinned, wondering what she’d think of some of the other things he enjoyed. “It seems you are in need of a thrashing on your behind, wife.” She lifted up and frowned. Her eyes showed her distress as she looked at him. “I have displeased you?” He sat up and pulled her into his embrace as he leaned against the headboard of the massive bed he’d had made for them. “Not at all. I am well pleased with you. I but teased you.”

Emma nodded, her bottom lip still drawn between her teeth. Relief filled her. For a moment, she’d thought she had angered her new husband—something she never wanted to do, but she knew eventually she would, especially if he discovered her gift. He wouldn’t. In all her years, no one else had. He left her momentarily and went to the basin. Quickly, he cleaned himself. After dampening another cloth, he returned to the bed and pressed it to her folds. Emma flinched more from the cold than any pain. With gentle strokes, Ailig cleansed her. A new rush of

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arousal filled her at his tenderness and she nearly melted into him as he set aside the cloth and pulled her back into his embrace. Silently, she traced the line of his muscular chest, her breath halting as her fingers ran over a wide scar on his abdomen. Without saying a word, she drew her thumb along the now silvery skin laying it sideways over the old wound. The mark was as long as her thumb twice over. “It’s an old wound,” Ailig said. She frowned, seeing the battle in her thoughts. “It could have killed you.” “It didn’t. I was a much younger knight then, less experienced and more impetuous.” She laid her head on his chest, hiding her face while she continued to trace the scar. “It is my greatest fear that you will die in battle.” His hand covered hers in a strong grip that halted her motion. “I will always return to you.” She frowned and didn’t argue with him. He couldn’t keep that promise. He had no power over it. Any day King Henry could call him and he’d go off to battle again, perhaps not to return. They could only live each day they had together, loving each other to their fullest. She was strong. She’d push away her fears until they gave up and went away, just as she always had since the day she’d realised she’d marry the knight on the hill. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply of his essence and the scent of their sex. A tingle ran to the place still aching from their vigorous love making. Even so, she’d happily take him again. Ailig’s hand settled on her lower back and he kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep. You are too sore for what you are thinking. A third time is impossible.” Defiantly, she flicked her tongue over his nipple, teasing the nub with her mouth the way that he’d teased hers. He moaned. “Where do you learn these things, Emma?” “From you, my love.” Slowly, she trailed kisses along his muscled chest, trailing over the hard ridges of his abdomen until she met his hip. Lightly, she bit the ridge, looking up at him to see his reaction. He watched her through half-lidded eyes. The scent of their sex was heavy at his groin. It infused her desire, stoking the sexuality he’d brought to life within her. She breathed it deeply, flicking out her tongue to stroke the salty crease of his thigh.

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She wanted to taste his manhood. Dare she? Could she put her mouth on him as he had his on her? On hands and knees, she paused, staring at the rigid column of flesh. “Yes,” he urged. “Put your mouth on me.” She wanted to touch him first. Her fingers wrapped around his steely manhood, nearly meeting as she slid her cupped hand up his generous length. Her thumb caught on the underside of the head and she trailed it long that edge, before she smoothed it upward and over the small slit where a tiny droplet of fluid had appeared. Curious, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue over it. He groaned in time with her satisfied hum. She licked him again, devouring the salty flavour. She swirled her tongue around him. “Put you mouth around me. Please Emma…” She couldn’t help her smile at his needy tone but happily complied. Through his begging, he was instructing her in what to do. Her lips spread wide as she stretched them around his girth. At Ailig’s satisfied groan, she continued working up and down his length. His hand slipped into her hair and he gently but firmly guided her. Her pussy flooded as she licked at his manhood and brought sounds of pleasure from his throat. She imagined him coupling with her in much the same way as he did with her lips—saw it, in fact. Soon… Ailig reached down and caught her under the arms, pulling her from his rod and up his body. “Much more and I’ll lose myself in your mouth. I do not want that…” She stretched, rubbing herself wantonly against him. “Then lose yourself where you do want to.” She laughed as he crushed her to him and turned, but her laughter soon turned to cries of bliss as he united with her once more.

**** Ailig woke to the light shining in through the window above his head. He stretched, reaching for Emma, only to find her side of the bed empty. He flopped back. While he was in residence, she’d learn to stay abed until he’d risen. He wanted to wake with her in his arms.

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Too many days, he woke alone on the trail with no woman to warm him. Even when other soldiers sought comfort in the village, he stayed away, wanting only Emma. Climbing from the bed, he stretched. Emma’s clothes were gone while his were neatly folded on the chest at the end of the bed. How soundly had he slept that he, a seasoned knight, hadn’t heard her moving about the chamber? Shaking his head, he shook out his hose and tunic then pulled them on. He shrugged into his surcoat. His clothing did little to hide his rampant arousal. Just knowing he was near Emma was enough to stir his rod to attention. He’d search out his lady wife and drag her back to their bed where he’d have his merry way with her. And remind her how much he loved her. By all holy, he was glad he’d not been forced into an arranged marriage by King Henry. It was bad enough he was pulled away from his land, his people and his wife by the king’s constant demands. And now with the threat of war amongst the nobles, he was sure to be called again. His time with Emma might be much shorter than he wanted. His stomach growled as he started out the door. Perhaps he’d stop for a bite to eat before he dragged her to the bed. He must keep up his strength if he was to keep her abed for most of the day. Emma wasn’t in her solar, so he continued lower into the main hall. If he didn’t find her there, he’d head for the kitchens and get some food before searching the grounds for her. Surely, she wouldn’t have left the keep’s walls. He heard Emma’s giggle first, accompanied by a deeper laugh. What was this? Ailig’s vision dimmed with anger as he followed the sound to the pair who hid from his sight in one of the hall’s antechambers. Rage drove through him as he poised in the doorway, frozen by the sight. Emma stood near a man, laughing while her hand rested on his chest. He looked familiar to Ailig, though he couldn’t place him. Likely, he was one of the servants who worked in the stables or as a field labourer. The man smiled down at her and Ailig wanted to run him through. His sword and dagger, however, were in his chamber. He crossed his arms, scowling at them. “What a cosy pair you make.” Emma pulled away from the man. “Ailig…” “Is it an inconvenience that I’ve come home?” he demanded.

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“Ailig, no! What are you thinking?” He swallowed, seeing his unspoken fears coming to light. How many nights had he worried that his beautiful wife would be lonely in her bed and seek another? “Thinking? It takes no thought to decipher this.” He swept a hand, indicating the pair. His wife and this man she so obviously loved. “Ailig. Please. I love you. You know that. This is—” “Love! What know you of it?” He glared at the boy, taking a step forward. “Best run. I will have you killed.” “Ailig! No!” Emma wailed. He captured her wrist, dragging her from the room, towards the stairs to their chamber. “I would never betray you,” she wept as he pulled her into the stairway. “He’s my brother. Ailig, please…” “Your brother?” His anger evaporated, and he stared at her, the guilt at his flash-fire rage condemning him. How could he explain that his greatest fear was that she wouldn’t wait for him, that she’d take a lover whilst he fought the king’s battles? His mother had. He knew other noble women did. And Emma was more beautiful than all of them. Surely men would seek her out, wanting to bed her whilst her husband was away. And that day might be coming soon with the talk of a civil war amongst the people. “My older brother. He lives in the hills, several days’ journey from here. He’s visiting my parents with his new wife…” “I’m sorry.” She turned her head, wrapping her arms around her middle when he released her. She drew in her bottom lip and closed her eyes while she took a deep breath. “You don’t trust me.” “I have never trusted anyone.” He knew it would hurt her, but he couldn’t lie. “Emma, I love you. I promise, I will learn to trust. Somehow.” She shook her head and started up the stairs. “After all this time, all the years I’ve waited for you, all the nights I’ve kept myself for you…was my virgin blood on your sheets not enough to prove my faithfulness to you?” “Do you want me to find him? Do you want me to tell him what a fool I was?” “He’ll think you mean to kill him.” “Shall I prostrate myself before you?”

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Emma turned and looked at him, her eyebrow raised in disbelief. “We did that last night, my lord. Perhaps you would like to tie me to the bed instead, since you do not trust me when I step foot outside it.” Ailig’s anger rose again, this time at the wife he loved. How many times could a man apologise for his stupidity? Perhaps he should tie her to the bed, so that she’d know who was her master. Emma shrieked as he scooped her over his shoulder and hurried up the steps. Setting her on her feet inside their chamber, he latched the door and turned to her. “Scream all you want. No one will save you.” “You’re a barbarian,” she accused, but he didn’t miss the excitement in her eyes. She liked this. Roughly, he pulled her clothes from her, suspecting she might like it. “Get on the bed,” he ordered. She crossed her arms beneath her pert breasts. “Surely you jest. You have just threatened to kill my brother.” Ailig narrowed his eyes. “You’ve grown wild and wilful while I’ve been away and I am unable to keep you in line with my strong hand.” “You’ve never…” “I think perhaps my lady wife is in need of a thrashing.” Her eyes went wide and she backed away. “No, Ailig.” “Too late.” He advanced on her until her back met the wall. She held up her hands to ward him off but he captured them in one large fist and lifted them above her head while he pressed against her. “You’ve taunted me. You’ve left my bed. I’m hungry.” “You are hungry? You want to beat me because you are hungry?” His kissed her, tasting honey on her sweet breath. “Emma,” he whispered. He brushed his cheek against hers. “I would never beat you. But I am hungry. Your activities forestalled my path to the kitchens.” “That’s not my fault.” “For all these things, you should be punished. Then I think perhaps I will tie you to the bed and have my way with your pretty body.” She didn’t say a word, only stared at him for a moment. There was no fear in her eyes, only a bit of uncertainty. She bit one side of her lip and he leaned forward, clasping the other side with his teeth. Gently, he pulled it free, then soothed the tormented flesh with a flick of

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his tongue. Her mouth called to him. Cupping her head with his free hand, he brought his lips to hers, hungrily supping at her mouth.

Emma couldn’t stop the moan that crawled up her throat as Ailig plundered her lips. And the thought of him tying her down… She trembled, but it was not from fear. Illicit excitement ran through her. It confused her, but she was willing to play Ailig’s game, whatever it was. He was her husband and she’d missed him. He’d never hurt her—she knew that without doubt. She knew from earlier that he sought her pleasure as much as his own, too. Lifting into him, she pressed her breasts to him and met his forceful kiss with her own. The woollen fabric of his garments chafed her sensitive nipples, but even that sent tremors of pleasure to her womb. When he touched her, he’d find her ready for him. How wanton she’d become. Ailig stepped back and held out his hand. “Come, wife.” She crossed her arms. “I still hold that I’ve done nothing wrong.” He waited, arm still outstretched. “I promise you’ll like it.” That was what she was afraid of. She sniffed. “Being punished?” He pried her hand free. “Come along.” In moments, he was seated on the bed with her draped across his lap. Slowly, he ran his hand over her bottom. It tickled and she tried to wriggle away, especially when her arousal grew great enough that she feared it would dampen his leg. He held her fast, with one arm tight over her back. His fingers worked between her legs, finding her wet pussy. “I think someone protests more than is true,” he commented, slipping two fingers deep within her sheath. Emma bucked. Her legs spread slightly as she silently asked for more. He turned his hand so that the knuckle of his bent fingers bumped the sensitive spot at the front of her folds with each inward thrust. “This is my pussy,” Ailig muttered. Of course it was. He was her husband after all. Her brow furrowed and she twisted as best she could to look up at him. He thought she’d be unfaithful to the vows she’d made? Disappointment chilled her, even as his clever fingers built her pleasure. How could he not trust her after all this time?

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She tried to get off his lap. They needed to talk about this. With a sigh, he removed his hand from her folds, resting his palm on her bottom. “Ailig,” she started. Suddenly, his hand drew up then landed solidly on her behind. Fire shot through her and she cried out, trying in vain to get away again. His hold was too strong. Two more strokes landed and the fire grew. It spread down to her thighs and up towards her back. One more and she realised what he meant. She moaned as the flames from her thrashing licked at her pussy. How was it possible that a punishment could stoke desire? All at once, she wanted more. Her fingers grasped his leg as he continued. She felt the liquid flowing from her channel to fill her folds. Each shift against him drove her higher and she felt her release building as it tightened in her womb as it had the night before. Shots of pleasure streaked through her. She couldn’t stop her cries, which had turned from indignant to lust-filled. Ailig stopped, his hand stroking over her bottom, and she knew he was finished. She needed more. He couldn’t leave her like this. Turning her head to the leg she clasped, she sank her teeth into his calf. He jerked, as his bellow coloured the tower’s air. Two more hard swats thrust her over the edge. Hard spasms tore through her body. She barely realised it when he lifted her into his arms and positioned her on the bed, so that she knelt facing the corner. He pulled her arms forward and tied them to the post with his belt. “You are a delightful, naughty little minx,” he said, glowering down at her as she looked over her shoulder at him. He might have frightened her if not for the humour in his eyes. “I cannot believe you bit me.” “I cannot believe you struck me.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. He stared down at her, his lips pressed together. “I would suggest another, but I fear you would enjoy that.” “And you would not?” She stared pointedly at his arousal. She knew she was overstepping her boundaries as wife, but lack of sleep tended to make her peckish. And today she certainly was. “Perhaps I should bind your viperous mouth…” he suggested. “Perhaps you should untie me,” she retorted. Ailig dangled a length of cloth before her. “Last chance.” “You would not.”

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He shook his head, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “I think you enjoy this…” Maybe she did. And if it proved to him that she loved him, she would comply. The arousal shooting through her only urged her onward. She did not fight him as he wrapped the fabric around her head, pulling it between her lips and tying it behind her head. Merciful heaven, it only made her desire him more.

Ailig stripped off his clothes then stood over her. Emma looked beautiful, her pink ass high in the air as she bent forward. Her damp folds glistened with her arousal. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. That much was very clear. Carefully, he knelt behind her, stroking his hands over her heated behind. “You liked this.” Emma dropped her head to the mattress. He laughed, giving her a light swat. “Don’t be embarrassed, love. It’s all to heighten pleasure. Can you say this does not feel good?” She shook her head, underlining her assent with a quiet moan. He kissed the ridge of her spine, trailing his mouth to the hollow at the small of her back. Emma trembled beneath him. Holding her legs apart with his, he lightly dragged his palms up the backs of her legs. Finally, he traced her drenched pussy. His cock throbbed as her honey coated his finger. “Do you want me inside you?” he asked. “Tell me, Emma. Your husband? Do you want your husband inside you?” Her eyes burned her ire into him. She growled as she rolled her eyes heavenward. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back to the blankets. Her head gave a faint nod. He grinned. His fear was completely unfounded. He knew it. In all these years, Emma had never given him reason to doubt her faithfulness. Not when he’d courted her between calls to King Henry’s service nor while he’d been married to her and again called away. She was his love. He had no reason not to trust her. But how beautiful she looked tied as she was. Next time, he’d bind her arms and legs wide to each post and make her come until she cried for mercy. Today was not that day. As wet as she might be for him, he knew she still would have some soreness from her initiation to womanhood yesterday and their vigorous activities through the night. He’d have to be gentle.

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Splaying a hand on her back, he grasped her hip and slowly slid the tip of his cock into her waiting sheath. The tight muscles grasped him, daring him to move deeper into her. Emma tried to push back to him and take more, but her position forestalled her action. He withdrew just as slowly as he’d entered her. “No!” Emma cried behind her gag. Her fingers clenched on his belt and she yanked, trying to get free. “You want more?” She made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a curse. That was his woman. Just as he liked her. Full of fire. But she was not the one in control here. He traced the edges of her pussy with his cock, then dragged the slicked head along the crevice of her ass until her head thumped on the bed, her knuckles white with her need. With one last pass over her folds, he found her opening and pushed into her tight channel, ploughing through the tender tissues within until he was deep inside. They moaned in unison as they became one once more. The time for play had passed. He was too close to losing himself and Emma was too close to murdering him when he let her free. With measured, careful thrusts, he worked in and out of her. Her taut grasp drove him to a frenzy. The need for relief raced through his blood. It balled in his groin, pulling his balls close to his body as they readied for the moment of ultimate pleasure. Beneath him, Emma screamed. Her body went rigid as her channel clenched around him. A flood of her release gushed around his cock and dragged him down the path she travelled. Black spots flooded his vision and he felt his seed shoot from him. Then he was falling…

**** “Ailig?” Ailig stirred at the somewhat hysterical yet muffled calls. Shaking his head he came awake, his head throbbing. The scene came to him all at once. Their chamber. He and Emma naked. Emma beneath him. Merciful heaven! Groaning, he rolled to the side and quickly unbound her hands.

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She ripped off the gag and dove for him, kissing him wherever she could reach. “I thought you had died!” she exclaimed. “I am not going to die.” “I have seen it,” she blurted hysterically. “I have seen that we will be parted by death.” Horror shot through him, but he shook his head, holding her tight. “Nay. It has just been too long since I have had sustenance. A bit of mead yesterday is not enough—” He tilted his head. “What do you mean you ‘have seen it’?” Emma scrambled away from him. “Don’t hurt me! I am not a witch.” “I know you are not. Love, come here. I would never hurt you.” He had seen many things in his travels and he knew there were those who had visions. However, he had never expected one of the gifted in his bed. “Come. Tell me of what you have seen.” If death lurked in the shadows, he wanted to know his enemy and avoid him. For the first time since Emma had voiced her fears so long ago, a darkness fell over him. As she crawled into his arms and clung to him, he held her tight. He’d hold off what she’d foreseen if only by his will alone. “It’s unclear,” she began. “Our future has always stretched out before us but the darkness of an end draws closer. It’s so close now…” As she spoke, Ailig closed his eyes. He would not allow this ending she foretold. He clasped the stone around her neck. Emma was his for eternity. It had been ordained.

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Chapter Three

Emma heard the voices in Ailig’s chamber below hers, but she ignored them. Over the past months, he’d often had merchants and townspeople visit while he’d done business with them or governed their affairs. And whenever he could, he came to be with her, which wasn’t as often as she would have liked, but he was in their bed every night so she had no complaints. They hadn’t spoken of her vision and as the days went by, she could almost believe what she’d seen would not happen. Still, a pall hung over them and she wondered when King Henry would next call upon Ailig to serve him. Wealthier land owners could send knights in their stead. Ailig did not have that luxury. When the king called, he was bound to answer even if the call came more than once per year. The voices ceased while she stitched, and she wondered if he would join her in the solar soon. Ailig had had a sturdy chair brought to the chamber so that he could sit with her occasionally and talk. He’d taken her in that chair once too, an experience she’d like to repeat some time soon. A smile played on her lips as she heard his heavy steps on the stairs leading towards her. It faded as he entered the room, his shoulders dropped and his face sombre. “What is it?” she asked, coming to her feet. She knew immediately that the time had come. Her stomach seemed to drop from her body as dread stabbed through her. “I’ve been called.” “Now?” He shook his head. “On the morrow.” Her lip trembled and she bit into it to hide her fear. She wouldn’t burden him with her worries. Perhaps the darkness on the horizon was naught but their separation. He’d go, but soon they’d be together again. They had to. He took a deep, regretful breath and she knew he sensed her turmoil. He pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head as he held her against his chest. “Would that we could leave this all and travel far away where we are not the lord and lady and we have no obligation to king. I would do that for you if I could.”

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“We have duties,” she answered, wishing he could be a merchant like her father. “I will return, love,” he promised. “I promise I will return to you safe and whole.” “I know,” she lied as her hot tear rolled over her cheek and onto his hand. He lifted her into his arms. “Come. I will see no one else today and only hold you in my arms.” Ailig held her through the night. Neither slept as they clung to one another, touching, kissing, reaffirming their love. He rose at daybreak, dressing and gathering his mail and sword. Leaning over the bed, he kissed Emma goodbye and bid her to stay there until his horse had faded into the distance. Turning into her pillow as the door shut, she wept as bitterly as if he’d died, for deep in her heart she was sure she’d never see her knight again.

**** Emma stood outside the keep’s walls, watching the water catch the last rays of the sun as it sank low in the west. As she often did, she prayed that she’d see Ailig riding over the horizon, his horse tromping along the shore as it made its way home. That scene hadn’t greeted her in four months and as she drew a cloak tightly around her to fight the chill of fall, she didn’t see Ailig returning home today either. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps not. Perhaps never. News of the war between the barons and the king had reached even the far north and Emma knew Ailig was engaged in a battle which might keep him away far longer than either of them had thought. She hoped he’d come home soon. As the days passed, she became increasingly worried not only for his safety but for hers as well. There was word of marauders throughout the territory. None had travelled to this area, but Emma feared it might be soon and she wanted Ailig nearby if they did. Even today, she’d been terrified when she’d been in town. It was foolish. The three men had merely been travelling through on their way south. They had meant her no harm. They hadn’t even spoken to her, yet with her skin crawling, she’d immediately returned home with one of the men from the castle.

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Now, as she watched the sun set and wished for her husband, one of the men stood nearby keeping watch over her. It was foolhardy to be outside the stone walls. She should return before it grew any darker. Turning, she headed back for the keep and the lonely bed that awaited her. “Hello, pretty lady,” a deep voice rumbled to her left and she turned towards it in shock, realising too late that she should have run in terror towards the keep’s gates. She screamed, hoping to rouse help, but her cry was smothered by a hand clamping over her mouth. Struggle as she might, she couldn’t free herself. To her horror she soon heard more men’s voices as she was dragged onto the boat the men had hidden at the foot of the mountain. As soon as they let her go, she scooted as far away as she could. “Your husband chose the wrong side to support,” one of the men rasped. “He does his duty to king,” she argued. The man ignored her. “And so we will take all from him. Starting with you.” “I want her first,” the man who’d grabbed her announced. She realised she’d seen him before, when she’d visited town that day. He’d eyed her but she’d ignored him. “You cannot. I am wed to another before God,” she said, hoping to deter them. The trio laughed. “Where is your man, then?” one of them asked. “He leaves you alone, wandering unprotected while he fights his foul king’s battles. He deserves to lose you.” “No…” “I’ll take her now,” the first man said again, lurching towards her. “I rather fancy a fucking to the rock of a boat.” “No!” Emma screamed, attempting to stand and run. But where? She tripped over her skirts, tumbling forward before dragging herself upright again. The boat tilted in the violent waves just as the man reached for her. Emma fell sideways, hitting her head on the side of the boat as she careened into the icy waves.

****

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“Emma!” Ailig bellowed as he had the last time he’d returned from his duty. He dismounted his horse at the gate and headed for the keep. Inside, three bodies lay. Recently dead. Panic overtook him and he drew his sword, dashing into the castle in search of his wife. “Emma,” he called, the sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the empty keep. “Emma!” What had happened? She’d foreseen his death, had she not? Oh merciful heaven no! His breaths came so fast he couldn’t fill his lungs. Her solar was empty. Their bedchamber. Empty. He couldn’t find her anywhere. And where had the servants fled? “My lord,” his squire greeted him, when he re-entered the great hall. “The men in the courtyard were killed with knives to the throat.” “No…” “We must go to the village and see if there’s anyone who knows what has happened.” Ailig shook his head, only able to think of Emma. “I have to find her,” he whispered. “We will, my lord.” Shaking from the emotions choking his heart, Ailig followed his servant from the keep. On the shore below, a tangle of dark hair and green fabric caught his eye. No! He ran, heedless of the steep, rocky terrain, heedless that he stumbled and ripped skin and garments as he flew down the incline. Reaching her, he sank to his knees, tears burning his eyes as his world closed around him. “Emma, no,” he sobbed, lifting her against his chest. “No.”

**** Emma’s corpse lay on the long trundle table in the main hall, awaiting preparation for burial. So recently they’d celebrated their marriage here, and now… He’d take revenge on those who’d done this. But who? There were no traces of who’d taken her and the servants he’d located had no information that would reveal the assailant’s identities. He paced, occasionally stopping and brushing his fingers over Emma’s marble-like cheek. Without her, his life had ended…their time had been so short. All his dreams for the future were contained in her. His fingers slid over the rounded stone of the necklace still around her neck.

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The blessing he’d received had promised them an eternity together. An eternity, they would have. Carefully, he removed the necklace from his love. Their dreams could be others’ dreams. Grasping the stone in his hand, he ran through the keep gathering supplies like a madman, and perhaps madness had indeed overcome him. He’d seen too much, endured even more. He’d lost the only thing of worth to him. He retrieved a bottle and stopper from the kitchens, a quill and parchment from his thinking room, rope from the storage pantry beside the main hall. With a heavy heart, he returned to Emma and set the implements beside her. Dipping the quill in ink, he wrote: A stone that's blessed by lover’s hands To bless the wearer with a love that stands. Through time and toil, no stopping fate As lovers united, no hand can break. So take this token and wear it true, Destiny awaits with love for you. A favour I ask from you to me Once blessed return my gift to the sea. For others await the hand of fate My blessing to love's true mates. Quickly he signed it, Ailig Bennett December 1264. Gently he kissed Emma’s lifeless lips then kissed the stone. “Unite the lovers,” he said. “Unite them and give them the happiness we would have had.” With care, he rolled the thick parchment and placed it in the bottle along with Emma’s necklace. He sealed the bottle. Sitting again, he wrote a second letter, this time to King Henry. Leaving it on the table, he lifted Emma into his arms then picked up the bottle and the rope. Emotion escaped him as he looked around the keep which had been his home for so long. Once he’d been proud of this solid walls bequeathed him by the king. Once he’d had dreams of giving this to his son. None of it existed for him any longer. None of it mattered.

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“Stay here,” he told his squire as he passed him in the courtyard outside the great hall. The man nodded, busy removing the remains of the men who’d died there. He barely noticed Ailig, which Ailig decided was good. He had no desire to argue with his servant. With measured steps, Ailig returned to the place where he’d found Emma. He paused as the icy water swirled around his ankles. “Find them. Unite them,” he whispered. Drawing back his arm, he hurled the bottle into the waves, watching momentarily as it bobbed and was drawn away. “And now our turn,” he told Emma. After binding her to him with the rope, he paused again, this time lifting a prayer to the heavens for salvation and forgiveness of what he was about to do. Then he walked. Emma cradled in his arms. “Our life here is ended,” he murmured. “But I will find you again, love. Our souls are entwined, and we will be together again…” Ailig’s body fought the water, but his resolve was stronger as the ocean flowed over him. His chest burned as everything went dark, with Emma still clutched to his chest, and he sank deep into the waters, dragged down by the weight of his heavy mail. And then brightness, unlike any he’d seen, filled him as he was drawn away. The pain from the cold and the water filling his body no longer tortured him. The pain from his loss lessened as peace flowed through him. Emma stood before him, smiling as she reached for him. “My love,” she said. “I cannot live without you.” “Nor I without you.” Ailig dragged her to his chest, distantly aware of ethereal figures circling them in the distance. He held no fear or wariness. They would not harm him. His mouth covered hers and she kissed him back. There was no urgency, no overwhelming lust. They had transcended human need. For now. Ailig knew when they again united it would be unlike anything he’d before experienced. Better. Perfect. “We cannot stay here,” Emma told him, her fingers smoothing his long hair from his face. “What? No!”

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“It is not our time to be here. We still have our life to live together. In another time and another place.” “No. I do not wish to be parted again.” “We must. For a time. We have much before us, love. But trust. We will be united again.” “No!” Ailig screamed as he was pulled from her by an unseen force. His scream turned to an unintelligible cry as his being was pressed and he found himself staring up into the exhausted face of another woman. “Sweet baby,” she murmured. “It’s all right, my Alexander.” Ailig continued to cry as the task before him settled into his soul and the memory of the one he loved faded from his mind. He would find her again…someday. And as the waves covered the great knight and his love, the bottle travelled across the waters, searching for other great loves to unite until the day when these two souls would again be entwined and the necklace would once more rest against the heart of the beloved…

About the Author When it comes to books and movies, Brynn Paulin has one rule: there must be a happy ending. After that one requirement, anything else goes. And it just might in any of her books. Brynn lives in Michigan with her husband and two children, who love her despite her occasional threats to smite them. They humour her and let her think she's a goddess...as long as she provides homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Brynn is president of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America and also hosts a weekly writing critique group. She’s conducted workshops at several writers’ conferences around the country as she enjoys mentoring and meeting new people. According to Brynn, her writing success can be attributed to 70's music, her local road construction crews, a trusty notebook, and of course, her husband (and willing research subject), AKA Mr. Inspiration.

Email: [email protected] Brynn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Brynn Paulin Redemption: Fallen Redemption: Incubus Tribute for the Goddess Circle of Three: Tempting Tamera

The Debtor’s Daughters

GAINING HOPE Lacey Thorn

Dedication To Michelle, Chris and Carol: May this be just the first of many

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co.

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Prologue

Shawn O’Grady looked at his mother and shook his head in disbelief. She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she did. “Oh, quit looking at me as if I’ve gone daft Shawn Michael O’Grady! Did you really think that you were keeping any secrets from me?” Maureen O’Grady was still a force to be reckoned with though she was heading into her sixties. She had outlived both her husband and Shawn’s older brother Robbie. She was small in stature, barely five feet tall but no one would dare think that meant that she couldn’t hold her own with anyone. And today Shawn was feeling the full force of his mother’s attention. “I’m not sure what you mean,” was all he could think of to say to her. Nothing else was computing in his brain right now. “You know exactly what I mean.” Maureen fired back. “You’re just embarrassed because I called you on it.” Her expression softened as she stepped forward and hugged Shawn tight. His mother’s head barely reached his chest as he loomed over her at six feet three inches. “It’s not that easy Mom.” He relented enough to tell her. “It’s just that easy.” She replied. “You and Tommy have been together since you were boys. You’ve shared a lot in that time, some things that even a mother doesn’t want to know about.” This last was added almost under her breath but Shawn heard it and blushed to the roots of his black hair. His mother glanced up and laughed before patting his cheek and stepping back. “You go after him and tell him that he was right. Patty wasn’t for you because she couldn’t accept that you and Tommy were a pair, a matched set if you will. Some day the right woman will come along and she’ll accept you both. Destiny has a true mate for you. You’ve only to be patient and let the fates bring you all together.” “Mom, you know that Tommy and I don’t…” he broke off, unsure of exactly what his mother thought they did do. He didn’t want to plant any ideas in her head if they weren’t already there.

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“I know that you and Tommy don’t share a physical love with one another if that is what has you all twisted up inside. But I do know that you love each other as brothers. I know that you two have shared your women since you were fifteen and snuck out to meet the widow visiting down the street.” Shawn lowered his head and felt his mother’s tinkling laughter wash over him. “Not much you can get past me, Shawn Michael, and best you not forget it. Now go find Tommy and together you’ll find your destiny.” Shawn kissed his mother and grabbed the duffel she had put together for him. It was time that he head back to his home anyway. Business would be booming and hopefully Tommy would be there, keeping the office running smoothly. How he had ever fancied himself in love with a selfish woman like Patty, he would never know. He could only pray that he hadn’t lost his best friend and blood brother through his stupidity.

Hope hid in the hallway listening to her father on the phone. She couldn’t believe he was already agreeing to wedding terms when her birthday was still three months away. But he was. There was frustration in his voice and she wandered at it. She’d love nothing more than to hear both sides of the conversation. But the only thing that she was sure of at the moment was that she needed to finalise her plans to get the hell out of this town and the life that waited for her here. Her father slammed the phone down and let a four-letter word loose that almost had her laughing. He would be so angry if he knew she was standing there listening. Sometimes she hated him and sometimes she wandered if any of them even knew him at all. She had caught him with odd looks on his face, almost as if he felt sorrow or pain or some other tender emotion that seemed beyond him on a good day. Faith had escaped three years earlier, the night before her wedding. Now it was up to Hope to take the place of the bride. It was something that she didn’t plan on doing. She still wasn’t sure exactly how her sister had managed to escape. She’d had word that Faith was married now and happy with a guy who once visited their town. They lived on the east coast somewhere. Hope had a postcard hidden in her room with the address. Once she made it out of this town, she’d find them and see her sister again. Her one shot was the fair coming to town. She planned to slip away during the festivities and if luck was with her she should make it to the Gulf and from there to safety.

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All she had to do was find a boat to sneak onto and somehow manage to hide out there until they were too far out to turn back. She’d just go with them and eventually make it to Faith. She’d search for a nice older couple. Hell, anything would be better than the guy who was eagerly awaiting their honeymoon. She’d swim the entire Gulf of Mexico first! She slipped quietly down the hall, peeking into her three younger sisters’ rooms along the way. She hated to leave them behind. But sometimes life presented you with hard decisions and you just had to do what you could and hope for the best. She was leaving…and hoping for the best for those she left behind.

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Chapter One

Hope waited in the shadows of the early night fall, watching the older woman move about the boat. It looked as if she was preparing it to set sail and that was just what Hope had been searching for. The woman was sixty if she was a day and was humming as she worked. She would definitely help Hope get away once they were far enough out. Hope had no doubts that she could talk her into what she needed. A man would be different. She’d been ogled enough by men to know that her full breasts and curvy body filled most men with lust. Hope watched the woman leave the boat and head up the dock and knew that her moment was fast approaching. It was now or never. Once the woman was out of sight, she crept out from behind the storage building she was using for cover and sprinted down the dock to hop on board the boat. It rocked a little and Hope held her breath praying no one else was on board as she cautiously crept down the stairs below deck. She had to find a place that she could hide for an adequate amount of time. It wouldn’t do her any good if she was discovered before they even left. She entered a large bedroom and marvelled at the beauty within. The furniture was gorgeous and decidedly masculine. It was also immaculate. Hope had only seen the woman on the boat and with the condition of the room she wondered if it was even being used. Doing a fast search of the room she finally found what she was looking for in the closet. There were several blankets haphazardly thrown on the floor and she was able to make a small nest with them. The clothes hanging up helped to hide her. She snuggled down into the blankets and by pulling one up and over her, she was completely hidden from view. Hopefully, it would still just look like a pile of blankets. At five foot three she wasn’t all that tall anyway so she should be okay. She’d just stay here for as long as she could and when enough time had passed with the motor going, she would come up with a way to be discovered and take it from there. She’d always had a great imagination. She’d wait and create her story when the time was at hand. She was fairly good at that. For now she’d just take a little nap.

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Shawn and Tommy stood on the shore watching the water of the Gulf lap the sand. It was a beautiful sunset. In the last three months, they had managed to mend the rift caused by the woman Shawn almost married and both agreed never to let a woman come between them again. “You really think that we’ll find a woman who will want to spend the rest of her life with both of us?” Tommy asked, his hands deep in the pockets of his worn Levi’s. Shawn sighed and ran his fingers through thick hair already blown about by the breeze. “I hope so. Mom seems to think that we will. Destiny and fate and all that blarney.” Tommy laughed and shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about your mom knowing about our sex life. I’m seriously glad that I wasn’t there for that conversation. And you’re just as Irish as your mom is. How can you call it blarney? You seemed to believe it well enough when you sold me on it the first time.” Shawn laughed and started to say something when he noticed something floating in on the tide towards them. “What the hell is that?” “I see it too,” Tommy said and they both stared as the object bobbed closer and closer to shore. “Can you believe the way that people just throw stuff out anywhere today? Some day we’ll have no resources left because of all the pollution.” “I know what you mean. It looks like a glass bottle or something.” Shawn almost laughed when Tommy impatiently tugged off his shoes and pulled his shirt off before heading out to retrieve the bottle. No way was Shawn getting in that water. It was only April and the water was still a little too cold for his blood. “Hey,” Tommy called as he grasped the bottle and waded back “There’s something in here. Looks like a paper and some type of jewellery. A necklace or bracelet of some sort.” “Let’s take it to the boat and have a look,” Shawn suggested and bent to get Tommy’s shoes and shirt for him. “Do you think Mrs. Davis is still cleaning and stocking?” “Nah, she’ll have headed home by now.” Tommy shook his mane of brown hair and water sprayed everywhere. “She’ll have everything cleaned and put away and all the supplies stocked for us. We should be able to leave anytime.” “Good, I’m ready to head out of here. Ready to get back to the office and see how things are going.” Shawn still wasn’t sure about leaving his younger brother in charge while he was gone. Patrick was still young and inexperienced but Tommy kept pressing that they had to give him a chance to prove himself.

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“I’m sure Pat is doing fine. He’s twenty eight now. Served ten years in the Marines. If anyone can handle the office while we’re gone it’s him.” Tommy was always sticking up for Patrick. He liked the fact that Tommy liked the kid and viewed him as a younger brother as well. Shawn just didn’t have Tommy’s confidence in Patrick. “Yeah but things aren’t the same in the private sector. We’re a security company and you have to use finesse in some situations and not just go in and take action. You know how hot-headed he’s always been.” “So were we when we were all kids. Pat has grown up a lot in the last few years. I’m sure he saw a lot while fighting in the Gulf.” Tommy leapt over the side of the boat as he made this last comment and stepped out of the way to make room for Shawn to join him. They moved about with the easy rhythm of friends who had spent a lot of time together. They both headed below deck to the galley and Shawn grabbed two beers from the fridge while Tommy worked at uncorking the bottle. Shawn saw that the bottle was old with thick clear glass and there was definitely something inside. He felt the hair on his nape prickle with chills. Somehow he knew that whatever was in that bottle would change their lives forever. “Wait,” he started to say but the cork slid out just then and the paper and a necklace spilled out onto the table. Tommy picked the necklace up by its silver chain and held it up to the light. “Damn, can you believe that someone put this in a bottle and just threw it out into the water?” It was beautiful. If he was not mistaken, and the Irish in him was pretty sure he wasn’t, the necklace was Connemara marble set in the silver setting. The silver cradled the stone, almost in a lovers’ embrace. And the silver had either been recently cleaned or was treated in something to make it appear so. There wasn’t a bit of tarnish on it anywhere. Shawn jerked his head up when he heard Tommy laugh softly. “You need to read this,” Tommy said and the smile on his lips sent another tingle down Shawn’s spine. Shit. He took the parchment from Tommy’s hands and rolled it back open. He couldn’t believe it when he readthe words. A stone that’s blessed by lovers’ hands To bless the wearer with a love that stands.

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Through time and toil, no stopping fate As lovers unite, no hand can break. So take this token and wear it true, Destiny awaits with love for you. A favour I ask from you to me Once blessed return my gift to the sea. For others await the hand of fate My blessing to love’s true mates. “Hell,” Shawn said. “If I didn’t know better I’d say my mother sent this.” “Yeah,” Tommy laughingly agreed. “It sounds like something she would say. You want to throw it back?” “No, I…” just then there was a crash from Shawn’s bedroom and they both jumped up and ran that way. “What the hell?” Shawn muttered as he took in the scene before him. The closet door was hanging open and the bar appeared to have been pulled from the wall. The shelf that rested on top of the bar had been tipped and books and boxes lay in shambles on top of what appeared to be blankets. But that wasn’t what drew the two men’s attention. No, it was the woman who lay partially hidden beneath the chaos. Her face was beautiful surrounded by a cloud of thick blonde curls and Shawn felt a tightening in his groin. One glance towards Tommy and he knew that his best friend was feeling the same thing. “How the hell do you think she got here?” Tommy murmured softly. “And what do you think caused that shelf to fall?” “Have no idea on either count,” Shawn muttered. “Let’s move her to the bed and then head out.” “Heading out to where?” Tommy questioned as he squatted down to help pull stuff off of the woman. “Heading out to sea. Getting the hell out of here.” Shawn grunted. “You plan on taking our stowaway with us?” Tommy questioned. They both bent down in front of her, just staring.

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“Well, what do you think she’s doing hiding in this closet? She was stowing away on this boat to get away from something.” Shawn shook his head, his thoughts tumbling through his head with numerous scenarios. “Or someone,” Tommy added, putting to voice what they were both wondering. “She was obviously planning on getting out of here for some reason. We’ll wait ‘til she wakes up and then find out what or who she is running from. By then we should all be far enough away that she can relax and talk.” Shawn immediately began to gently move the stuff on top of her away, uncovering her body inch by delicious inch. She had long tanned legs and high firm breasts, both of which sent another surge of blood to his cock and set his mouth to salivating. Fuck! He wanted her bad! “Yeah, I’ll go get started on that,” Tommy said as he stood up but his eyes were glued to the woman being uncovered and his feet were unmoving on the floor. “Need help moving her?” “Nope,” Shawn replied. “Coming up soon?” Tommy queried. “I’ll be up as soon as I get her settled on the bed.” “We’ll have to talk about what you want to do with her.” Tommy continued. Shawn heaved a sigh. “I know. Just get this boat moving and I’ll be right up.” Tommy and Shawn met each other’s eyes that spoke volumes with just a look. “I won’t touch her, Tommy. Not yet,” Shawn added and only after Tommy nodded and walked away did he add the rest of his thoughts. “Not without you. Not without knowing that she’ll have us both.”

Hope almost gasped out loud at the words of the man who was lifting her into his arms. Just what had she gotten herself into? Were they gay? Damn it! Why were all the gorgeous men either gay or married? And if they were gay what did they want with her? What did he mean that he wouldn’t touch her without knowing that she would have them both? And why were her nipples growing hard at the mere thought of having sex with both men? He eased her down on the bed and pulled one of the blankets over her. He ran his fingers down her hair, smoothing it away from her face and she wished that she had taken the time to really do her makeup before she left earlier in the day. But she hadn’t wanted to waste any of the precious time that she had left. Escape was all that mattered.

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“What are you running from little one?” he murmured and Hope prayed that he was only talking out loud and didn’t realise that she was awake. Her legs had fallen asleep and she had wanted to stand up and shake the feeling back into them. She hadn’t been in the closet too long and she wasn’t sure why her legs were already going numb. Must have been the way that she was sitting. But when she had reached up and tried to use the bar to pull herself up, the worst thing possible had happened. Instead of her going up everything else had fallen down. Right on top of her. Bringing the people on board right to her. And they weren’t even the nice older couple that she had envisioned seeing earlier. No, it was two of the hottest guys that she had ever glimpsed. Hope sighed with frustration. She hadn’t seen nearly enough before she decided to close her eyes and feign unconsciousness. What the hell else was she supposed to do? She needed time to figure out what the hell she was going to say to them. She’d wait until she was certain that the other guy had motored them far enough away before she suddenly awoke. Only she had no idea what she would do when they finally confronted her and asked just what she was doing on the boat. Something had pulled her to this boat in particular. Out of all of the boats docked her eyes had kept coming back to this one again and again. Maybe it was the name, Irish Dream, that called to her. Whatever it was she just had to maintain the hope that these two men would help her get away from the future that awaited her on shore. And pray that she hadn’t caught herself in an even worse situation. She did let out a sigh of relief when he finally moved from where she lay on the bed and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. What should she do now?

Shawn joined Tommy and stood staring out at the water as Tommy piloted them further and further away from shore. “She awake?” Tommy finally asked. “I’m fairly certain that she was when we got there,” Shawn replied. “I thought she was faking,” Tommy nodded his agreement. “Not sure what she’s hiding from or what she was planning when she climbed on board. But as soon as we’re far enough away we’ll go see what we can find out?” “How do you want to play this?” Tommy inquired.

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“I’m not sure just yet,” Shawn murmured. “We’ll have to wait and see what she tells us. One thing I do know for sure is that I’m not going to send her back if she doesn’t want to go.” “Think she’s running from someone?” Shawn sighed and ran his fingers through the thick length of black hair on his head. “Why else would she hide on a boat when she doesn’t know who owns it? Hell she could have found herself in a serious situation if she’d gotten on a different boat.” “Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Instead of stuck on board with two men hornier than hell to get her under them and fuck the hell out of her. Good thing for her.” “Shit,” Shawn muttered and Tommy laughed. “Yeah, shit,” Tommy agreed but his grin said something entirely different.

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Chapter Two

The men were gone for so long that Hope actually did fall asleep. She was in the middle of a very pleasant dream about the two men and herself in a very intimate position when she felt the gentle tug pulling her from her dream world. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay in the dream until she had soaked up every pleasure implied. She wanted them. Badly. Things were still a little fuzzy when she woke up, nothing seemed real and the dream was so fresh that when she saw the face looming above her with thick black hair and big blue eyes she did the first thing that entered her mind. She reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss, a kiss that exploded into carnal exploration with the first slide of tongue on tongue. God, he tasted rich and dark, like melted chocolate. She could drown in his taste and die a very happy woman. She felt a hand stroking her hair and pulled reluctantly away to glance at the man on the other side of her. He had shaggy brown hair with blond highlights in it that a woman would pay a lot of money for. His big brown eyes held a touch of gold in them and she could feel herself falling into them as his head bent to hers. Then she tasted him just as intimately as she had tasted the first man. And he was every bit as good. Not chocolate here but a rich minty flavour that made her think of Christmas and candy canes…and home. He pulled back and she let her head fall back to the pillow beneath her and sighed her contentment. Until she realised that she was awake and these were the two men that had found her in the closet earlier. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality and she had no idea what to say under the current circumstances. She was lying on her back in a bed with one man on either side of her staring down at her with lust filled eyes. And God help her but she wanted them. “Who are you?” she whispered the first thing that came to her mind. She needed to know who they were, if they were single, if they were gay. “Don’t you remember?” the devil with coal black hair asked her with a touch of a grin on his lips. She knew that she didn’t know who he was. Hell she had hidden on this boat knowing fully that she had no idea who she was going to encounter. It was a chance that she had been

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willing to take. And she was suddenly very happy that she had. She bit her lip and shook her head no. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing but she was willing to play along for now. “Do you know who you are?” He asked her gently, his fingers whispering tenderly across her cheek. At the moment she knew nothing but the feel of his hand, the smell of his skin and the taste of his lips. She shook her head no. Not a lie at the moment. “Your name?” the other one queried and she turned to him and felt wrapped in his essence, his masculinity. His smile was warm and beautiful and his eyes promised things she was desperate for. “Hope,” she murmured. “Do you remember anything else Hope? Who you are or how you got here?” He prompted her to continue but she couldn’t. She didn’t have any clue what to say. Her brain was in chaos and she only shook her head. “Your name is Hope O’Grady,” the dark haired man lied and then followed it with an even bigger one. “You’re my wife.” “Your wife?” she and the other man made the comment at the same time, both with a heavy dose of doubt in their voices. “My wife,” he repeated firmly, the dare evident in his voice. He was defying her to admit the truth, that she knew who she was and why she was on this boat. But Hope had more to lose than he could ever imagine. So making a snap decision, she decided to play along and see just how far he was willing to take it. “I don’t remember our wedding day. I don’t even remember your name.” She gazed up at him trying her best to keep her secrets from showing. “My name is Shawn. We were married just a few weeks ago in Ireland. It was a beautiful ceremony under the stars.” She wished that he wasn’t telling lies. She could almost visualise a wedding under the stars, only she had never been to Ireland. “Just the two of us?” she questioned. “The three of us,” Shawn nodded at the other man. “Tommy was there with us.” “With us?” she asked wanting to see what he would say. She had kissed both men rather intimately.

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“Tommy has always been with us darling. When we took our vows you said that we had to include him in everything. You said that you loved us both and that there would be no wedding unless you could have us both.” Shawn looked down at her and she saw more than he probably realised in his eyes. She saw his desire for exactly what he was describing. “I married both of you?” Hope wasn’t sure about the turn this was taking. How far would he go before one of them admitted to the truth? That they both knew she was lying about not knowing who she was. “The priest married us and you took my name. But you said that the real ceremony took place under the stars when you said your vows to both of us. You said it was the best day of you life. I can’t believe that you don’t remember it.” He was laying it on a little thick now but something inside her urged her to stay the course. “I wish that I could remember it all. The stars, the moon, and the three of us together. But I don’t.” She whispered the words softly, wanting more than anything for the words to be more, to be truth. “Maybe we can help you to remember,” Shawn bent close to her, his words whispered over her mouth before his lips teased hers. His teeth nibbled playfully at her bottom lip before his tongue licked over it, caressing where his teeth had nipped. “Maybe you just need to be reminded of how great we are together.” Hope was lost in the moment. The feel of his hands, his mouth, his very breath intoxicated her senses and left her gasping for air. She didn’t fight when hands eased her shirt up and over her head, leaving her arms lying limply beside her on the pillow. Her shorts were tugged down over her hips and suddenly she was in nothing but her bra and panties. She thanked God that she had chosen to wear the pale lavender lace set that Faith had sent her for her birthday, under the guise that it was a wedding present. Hidden in the lining of the box had been the directions to where her sister now lived with her husband, along with a little bit of money to help Hope get there. She’d planned to do just that. Until she found herself on a boat in the middle of who knew where at the moment, in her underwear with two gorgeous men looming over her with carnal intent in their eyes. They were going to fuck her. She knew that and should have been nervous, should have been appalled. But she was no shrinking virgin and Heaven help her but she wanted them, wanted this as much as either of them did.

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She heard them both moan and saw the pleasure in their gazes as they devoured her with their eyes, eyes that promised untold bliss. Soon. The front clasp of her bra was released and her breasts spilled out as the cups slid off to reveal her nipples, tight and hard with anticipation. And neither man disappointed as they both leaned forward and took a nipple into their mouths. Hope cried out with pleasure as they sucked greedily at her flesh, using lips, teeth and tongue to torment her. Bolts of carnal anticipation went off like fireworks in her belly as the flames seemed to travel from her breasts to her womb, making it cream with need and desire. They both left her breasts at the same time, replacing suckling mouths with fingers that plucked and pinched, maintaining the pleasure centres in her breasts. Shawn came back up to her face, nibbling up the column of her neck and spreading kisses along her ear. “So good, baby,” he murmured huskily to her. “It’s going to feel so good.” “Yes,” was all the response she could moan out as she felt the tug at her panties as the lace ripped. Cool air blew over her hot flesh for only a moment before it was replaced by the hot swipe of Tommy’s tongue, the feverish nibble of his teeth along the plumped lips of her sex. She cried out at the pleasure and Shawn was there to swallow it with his possessive kiss. Her legs thrashed and she reached out for both men with her hands, but Shawn caught them in one of his and guided them back to the bed, anchoring them above her head and keeping them there. His other hand continued to torment her nipples, going back and forth between them now that Tommy’s were busy on other parts of her anatomy. Shawn’s kiss was what she had always fantasised about. It was hot and wet and filled with need for her, with the promise that it would be worth it. He kissed her like she meant something to him. Kissing had always been personal to her, more intimate somehow than just sex. No one really understood how she could feel that way but she did. And Shawn. Well, he was every girlhood fantasy of what a first kiss should be all rolled up into one. Hope cried out as Tommy thrust two fingers into her channel and latched his lips around the swollen bud of her clit, sucking hard at the flesh, flicking it with his tongue before nipping it with his teeth. His fingers pumped harder and faster and she couldn’t fight her body’s need to rise up and meet every thrust, shoving her engorged knob further into his mouth. Ecstasy washed over her in wave after wave as she crested into orgasm. Tommy

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didn’t let up but pushed her still higher and higher until she literally felt like she might shatter into pieces. Shawn moved back to her breasts and bit down on one turgid point and she did shatter. She could feel her body exploding, feel pieces of her flying off in every direction. Then she was sinking down into the bed, weightless, boneless, like a doll with no capability of moving. “Are you a virgin?” Shawn whispered by her ear. She felt the movement as the men moved around her, felt Shawn settle between her thighs, the nudge of his cock as he spread the lips of her sex and lodged the latex covered head at the opening of her pussy. “I’m married to you,” she managed to whisper. “And to Tommy. What do you think?” Husky chuckles filled the air for a moment and then her knees were lifted and hooked over Shawn’s elbows, leaving her spread wide for him. With one hard thrust he sank completely inside her filling her to overflowing. She cried out at the invasion, shuddering as her flesh stretched and burned in its struggle to accommodate his large size. “You’re so fucking tight and hot around my dick,” Shawn gritted between his teeth and she knew that he was doing his best to maintain control and give her a few moments to adjust. Hope used his arms to lift her legs even higher, wider, lifting her pelvis from the bed and sinking him another inch deeper inside her. They both cried out at the sensations that rocked through them. He was big and thick and he felt incredible inside her. Slowly he pulled out and rocked back into her, then again, then again. Slow and steady he rode in and out of her but she needed more, needed everything that he had to give her. She reached up and tugged his hair bringing his face down close to hers for a hungry kiss. “I need you,” she confessed, overcome by just how much she felt with this man. “I want you.” And she did, more than anything else in her life she wanted to belong to him and Tommy, to know that they would always be there to watch over and protect her. “Make me yours,” she begged and something in her eyes must have shown him just how much she meant it. With a low groan Shawn spread his hands over her hips, coming up to his knees between her sprawled thighs and finally gave her what she wanted, what they both wanted. He fucked her hard and fast, pushing deeper inside her with every stroke of his shaft. His balls slapped against her flesh and she loved the feel of the taunt globes. She wanted to stay like this forever, wanted to keep the connection of body to body. But it was so much more

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than that. For some reason it felt like more than just sex to her. Hope was no virgin, she had snuck out many times to meet a boy from school and have a little fun. But there had never been a moment like this one. She felt the fiery tingles of another orgasm ripped through her womb before spiralling out and exploding throughout her body. Her cries pierced the air and vaguely she heard Shawn’s cry join hers, felt the wash of his seed as he filled the condom. She wished that the fantasy they had created was reality. She wished that she was his wife, that they had married under the stars in Ireland. He collapsed on top of her for just a moment before rolling to her side. She was still struggling to catch her breath when she felt Tommy move between her thighs and lift her legs high, draping her ankles over his shoulders. She glanced down at his sheathed cock, not as long as Shawn’s but just a little bit thicker. The lust in his eyes ignited a reciprocal need in her. She wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him the way that she had felt Shawn. She had fantasised many times about two men and this might be the only chance that she ever had to live it out. Then Tommy glanced at her and she saw so much more than lust in his eyes. She saw need and questions, as if he was unsure whether she wanted him or not. Without thought she nodded her head and whispered, “Take me, Tommy. Make me yours. Fuck me.” Both men groaned as the naughty words left her lips and Tommy used his hand to guide his cock to her opening and there was no slow and easy this time either. It was hard and fast from the beginning, his hips slamming into hers as he rode her. Her cries filled the cabin and only seemed to incite Tommy further. He fucked her mercilessly, his hunger primal, animalistic. And she revelled in every moment of it. God, help her, but she loved the raw quality of sex with him. No games, no uncertainty. Just a man claiming a woman like couples had been doing since the beginning of time. She felt her body racing towards another orgasm and knew that it would send her to places that she had never known or been before. She screamed as the pleasure spiralled through her in almost painful waves. She could feel her sex tightening around Tommy’s width and still he plunged in and out of her fighting his way back inside the pulsing channel. She could feel the tug towards unconsciousness pushing at her and knew that soon she would succumb. She heard Tommy’s cry and knew that he had reached his pleasure as well.

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“Need you,” she murmured, her speech slurred from the pleasure she had found with these two men. “Need you to love me, to save me.” She fell into a deep sleep unaware of just what she had revealed to the two men still in the bed with her.

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Chapter Three

Tommy and Shawn sat at the galley table drinking coffee. They had just left Hope sleeping in the bed. Though they had both desired to stay with her, to hold and watch over her, they both knew that they had to talk before things went much further. One moment of passion and it was inconceivable to contemplate not having her with them every day from then on. She completed the relationship they shared with one another. She seemed to accept them both and revel in the physical aspect as much as they did. “Your wife?” It was Tommy who finally spoke. “Jesus Christ, man. Could you have thought of anything other than that? And how the hell did we marry her last week under the stars in Ireland?” He shook his head in disbelief. “It just popped out of my mouth. I didn’t plan to say it. But you didn’t see her arguing with me now did you? She was just as enthralled by the idea as we both were.” Shawn glanced at Tommy and dared him to deny it. “She wants us just as much as we want her. And damn it, I will protect her from whatever comes this way.” “You know that I will too,” Tommy admitted. “I could very easily fall in love with her. But I think that we really need to talk to her when she wakes up. We have to find out exactly what we are up against. We have to know what she believes that she needs saving from.” “I agree,” Shawn replied glancing into his coffee cup at the lukewarm remains inside. “But just so you know. If she needs it, I will protect her in every way I can.” Tommy caught Shawn’s eyes and nodded. “Agreed. We’ll protect her no matter what she’s hiding from.” Shawn stood from the table and took his cup to the sink to rinse it. “I’ll start dinner while you go up top and check the radar. Maybe we should head a little further out to sea.” “I’ve got us pretty far out and the anchor is dropped. We’ll be fine. I’ll check again to be sure that nothing else has drifted our way.” “Good. I’m sure that she’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” Shawn opened the cabinet and began to rummage through their freshly stocked supplies. “And then we talk?” Tommy inquired. “And then we talk.” Shawn agreed.

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Hope awoke to the tempting smell of syrup and bacon. She lifted her eyes and saw that Shawn was standing just inside the doorway with a tray laden with food. She could see the stack of pancakes and the bacon on a saucer beside it. Her stomach growled as if on cue and she sat up on the bed as he began to cross the room towards her. “I see that you’re awake. Hungry?” He asked, turning the tray so that he could place it across her legs. “Starved,” she smiled up at him. Shawn bent down and took her lips with a soft tender kiss that somehow felt perfect…and right. “What was that for?” she asked him. “Does there have to be a reason?” He lifted his hand and stroked his fingers through her hair gently while she tried to focus on her food. “How are you feeling now that you’ve rested?” “Fine,” she replied. “Even better when I fill up on this wonderful smelling food.” She was a little self conscious at first, with Shawn watching avidly while she tried to take dainty bites. But after the first few minutes hunger took over and she just enjoyed the feast. Crisp bacon, perfectly shaped pancakes with just the right amount of syrup and fluffy scrambled eggs all brought to light just how long it had been since she had eaten. When the last bite disappeared she leaned back and gave a sigh. A deep chuckle brought her eyes back up and a blush stained her cheeks. “There’s more if you’re still hungry,” Shawn told her with a big grin. “I’m sorry,” Hope said as the embarrassment overtook her. “I don’t usually eat like that.” “I love it. Nothing more arousing than a woman with a healthy appetite.” His grin deepened along with the colour of her blush. “Makes a man wonder what else might make her that hungry.” Hope’s gaze dropped down to his jean clad crotch and there was no disguising the bulge there. Her eyes flew back up to his and she could see the desire smouldering there. He wanted her again. And she wanted him just as much. He eased the tray off her lap and placed it over on the floor an arm’s length from the bed. “I want you again Hope. I want to feel you wrapped around my cock squeezing me, taking me deep and hard. I want to feel your pussy, your mouth, your ass. I want to know

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you in every way imaginable.” The truth of his words was right there in his eyes. He meant what he was saying and that fact both awed and enticed her. “Are you telling me that as your wife we’ve never done all of that?” She meant the question to be coy, to continue with the game that they had both started earlier. But he shook his head and placed a finger on her lips to stop her. “No more lies. No more pretending.” He tipped her head up so that she was caught by his gaze and he refused to release her. “We both know that we’ve never met before. We both know that there was no marriage in Ireland. As much as I wish that it was true, that you were mine in every way imaginable, you’re not.” He caressed her face with his fingertips, tracing the hollows of her cheeks, the curve of her jaw, skimming over her lips. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feel of his fingers, the light touch on her skin. “I wish that as well. I wish it more than you could ever know.” “Why did you hide out here Hope? What are you running from?” Shawn spoke softly to her, as if afraid that his questions might send her running again. This time from him. “Yes, I’d like to know the answers to those questions as well,” Tommy spoke as he entered the room and moved to join them on the bed. He approached the other side and lounged beside Hope, pulling her easily into the curve of his arm as if he had been doing it for years. “Who are you running from?” “It’s a long story,” Hope began but stopped when both men just shook their heads at her. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” Tommy assured her, leaning in to place a kiss on her temple. Shawn remained sitting beside her on the bed but he took one of her hands in both of his and held it tight, willing his strength into her. “Tell us what you can.” “I was engaged to be married,” Hope began and both men snarled at the first sentence. Hope smiled and shook her head. “Not by choice but to a friend of my father’s.” “How old is this fiancée?” Shawn demanded. “Late fifties,” she answered and stopped as both men cried out in outrage. “What the hell was your dad thinking of letting you marry a guy that old?” Tommy hollered. “No fucking way,” was all that Shawn muttered, his face suddenly hard with anger.

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“I’m not sure of all of the details but my older sister Faith was supposed to marry him. She fell in love with someone else and escaped the day before the wedding. With her gone, it fell to me to marry him on my twenty-first birthday.” She looked up at them and shook her head vigorously. “But there was no way that I could go through with it.” Hope shuddered and Tommy pulled her tighter against him. “So the first chance I got, I ran. I thought that if I could make it to a boat then I could hide away until it was far enough out at sea that they couldn’t possibly turn back.” “And what did you think would happen then?” Shawn was really angry now. “What if you found yourself on a boat with someone who decided to rape you? Or even worse, kill you and dump your body at sea? What the hell were you thinking Hope?” “I spent the entire day here checking out the boats. I watched and I watched. I saw the little old lady on this boat and I thought that she looked sympathetic. So I decided to hide out here. I had no idea that this boat belonged to you two.” Hope glanced back and forth between them. “Exactly my point. You had no idea what you were getting into. We could have been deranged perverts or serial killers or something.” Shawn was definitely not calming down which only served to piss Hope off. “I see your point. I could have found myself trapped with two sexual deviants who might try to convince me that they were married to me,” she glared heatedly at Shawn. “All under the guise of stripping me naked and fucking me senseless. Glad that I didn’t find myself in that situation.” Shawn glared right back at her until they were both startled by Tommy’s robust laughter. “Damn, I’ve never seen anyone get under Shawn’s skin like that. You two were made for each other. Something definitely brought you together.” Tommy smiled at them both. “Us together,” Shawn relented enough to say. “The three of us.” He looked at Hope as if seeking her agreement that it was a threesome. She glanced between the two men that she was coming to know so intimately and found that she couldn’t deny the truth. Something truly had pulled her towards this boat and these two men. “Yes, the three of us. It was as if something kept telling me to come to this boat, that I would find what I was searching for here.” “And what was that?” Tommy asked softly. “What were you searching for?”

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The first words that came out of her mouth were, “A way out. A new beginning. A chance to find love and not be stuck in a marriage that I never wanted.” “I think I know what brought you here.” Tommy jumped up from the bed and bounded out the door. He was back in a flash with a bottle, a piece of old paper and a gorgeous necklace draped over his fingers. “Read this,” he urged as he handed her the paper. “Oh, hell,” Shawn muttered but didn’t try to take the paper from her. It was a beautiful poem about true love and the hand of fate. It tugged at her heartstrings and made her believe for the moment that anything was possible. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Where did you get it?” “We found it,” Tommy told her holding up the bottle. “Both the note and the necklace were in this bottle floating in the water.” “Why would someone do that?” Hope wondered out loud. “You read the note.” Shawn stated. “It is found by those who have found true love, or are close to finding it.” His gaze caught hers and she found herself afraid of what the future might hold, of what he might be implying. She glanced down at the note in her hand. “It says, ‘so take this token and wear it true, destiny awaits with love for you.’ So doesn’t that mean that you have to wear it?” Shawn laughed and Tommy shook his head before speaking. “Yeah, Shawn. I think that it is just your colour and size. It will look great on you.” Shawn smiled and reached for the gorgeous necklace. He was still amazed that the silver had no tarnish on it. Perhaps someone else had discovered the bottle just before them and cleaned it up. Or perhaps the blessing bestowed on it kept it from tarnishing, much like true love. Either way it was one of the most exquisite pieces that he had ever seen. And it wasn’t just the Irishman in him that appreciated the touch of home in the Connemara Marble. It was easy to see that it had been crafted with love in mind and he wondered if the original owner had made it himself. Maybe someday they could research and find out where the piece originated from. He would have to be sure to photograph both the necklace and the note later. For the moment he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Reaching forward he slid the necklace around Hope’s neck and with Tommy’s help fastened it so that it hung between her breasts. It looked perfect nestled there. Like it was meant to rest there for a moment.

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“Wow,” Hope glanced down at the jewellery. “It is beautiful.” She reached her hand up and touched it reverently. “And warm. I didn’t think that it would be this warm.” Both men reached out to touch the stone that had indeed warmed in the brief time that it had been placed on Hope. It was like it was showing that it was happy, that they had done well. “It was meant to grace you,” Tommy whispered and leaned close to place a soft slow kiss on her lips. “For us,” she whispered, the uncertainty in her voice making it a question instead of a statement. “Definitely for us,” Shawn answered and leaning in, took her mouth not with softness but with hunger and ferocity. As if he needed to taste her, to consume her. His much larger frame dwarfed her and soon she was on her back on the bed. Tommy must have moved the pillows to help Shawn. “I know that we’ve only just met. I know that this will sound crazy, but I really believe that everything happens for a reason. And I believe that the bottle and you, and the two of us all meeting up at the same time is no coincidence. I believe that there is something bigger at work here than just us. Call it God, fate, destiny, whatever you need to. But, Hope, I feel like I’ve been waiting for you to come into my life.” He glanced over at Tommy and added, “Our lives.” “I sat on the beach, half hidden behind the storage shed and looked at every boat in the harbour. I sat and I watched. But for some reason my attention was always drawn back to this one. Even when I thought it belonged to someone else I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It was as if something was telling me that this was where I was meant to find the help I needed.” She reached one hand up to cup Shawn’s face and used the other to reach out for Tommy’s hand and lace their fingers together. “So, yes, I believe the same thing. I’ve never felt this comfortable this quickly with anyone. Yet with you and Tommy, I feel like I’ve come home.” “Home,” Tommy repeated and his eyes glowed like warm pools of gold. “No matter what comes this way,” Shawn reclaimed her attention with his urgent tone of voice. “I want you to know that I…” “That we,” Tommy interrupted.

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“That we,” Shawn agreed, “will do anything and everything to protect you. No one will ever make you feel the need to run again. And no one will ever make you go anywhere that you don’t want to.” “Even us,” Tommy added softly. “We want you to stay with us, to give this, us, a chance and see where it might lead. But if that is not what you want then we won’t force you to.” Hope glanced back at Shawn to see if he agreed. His face showed sadness at the thought of her leaving but he nodded his head in agreement. “You were heading to see your sister Faith?” Shawn asked. “Yes,” she whispered, so overcome with all that was being put in front of her that she was having trouble finding the words she needed. “Do you still want to go see her?” Shawn wanted to know. Hope nodded her head and Shawn dropped his head to his chest for a minute before glancing back up at her. “Then we’ll make sure you get there.” He started to move off of her but Hope grabbed him with both hands and held him tight. “Wait,” she stated. “Of course I still want to see my sister. But I want you two to go with me. I want to be with you,” she glanced pointedly between them. “Both of you. I want to see what the future might hold for us, what destiny awaits us.” “Be sure, Hope,” Shawn’s voice was almost guttural it was so choked with emotion. “Be very sure. Because once you agree to stay with us, to see where this leads, I’m not sure that I can be strong enough to let you go.” Hope smiled and leaned up to softly nip his bottom lip. “I wouldn’t want you to. I’m sure. I’m very sure. I think I might have known since you told me I was your wife and I agreed.” She laughed out loud and soon both of her men were joining her. Her men. The thought startled her, mostly because it felt so right to say it. She was a woman with not one, but two men in her life. She was sure that many would think her insane, or even question her morality. But then there would also be just as many, if not more, who envied her and wished they were as lucky. “We need to celebrate then,” Tommy said as he moved from the bed over to a cabinet. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a tube of lubricating jelly. Hope caught her breath as she realised what that meant. It was time for her to take both of them into her body

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at the same time. It was exactly what she had wanted to experience since she’d first encountered them. “Yes,” she agreed eagerly when she realised both men were looking at her, waiting for her approval and agreement. Shawn’s hands slid under the sheet until he was palming her breasts and rubbing her turgid nipples between his fingers. She groaned out loud, arching up into him, hungry for more, for everything. “You’re over-dressed,” Shawn told her as he bent down to replace one hand with his mouth, sucking and tugging her nipple with his teeth. She laughed at the absurdity of his words. After all, she was wearing a sheet and nothing more. Hope cried out and clutched his head in both of her hands, urging him closer still. “So are you,” she moaned and her glance went to Tommy as she prepared to tell him the same. But he was naked beside the bed, his cock gleaming with the lubricant he was still coating it with. His eyes were hooded as he gazed hungrily at her breasts before locking gazes with her. “Way ahead of you little bit,” he told her with a sultry smile. He ran his slicked fingers up and down his length, squeezing the head before sliding back down the shaft to his balls. “Have you ever had a man inside your ass before?” “Yes,” she breathed out. “I tried it a few times with a guy I dated in high school.” “Did you enjoy it?” Tommy asked her. She nodded her head. “It felt pretty good, tight and full. I was always on my hands and knees.” “We’re going to do it a little differently this time,” Tommy told her as he moved closer to the bed. Shawn let her nipple free with a pop and disengaged their bodies so that he could stand up and begin removing his clothes as well. Tommy joined her on the bed. His cock was hard and thick as it jutted out from his nest of brown curls. She licked her lips but he shook his head. “I’ve already got it coated with lube this time. You don’t want to taste that baby.” He leaned into her and claimed her with a hungry kiss. His tongue forged between her lips, licking across her teeth before she opened completely to him. He devoured her mouth, exploring every hidden nook and cranny with his tongue. His body felt so good against hers and she could now feel just how slick his cock was.

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“I want you to turn over and get up just a little bit, on your knees,” he informed her as he reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. “That will be the easiest way for you to take my dick. I’ll take my time and work it in nice and slow. I’m going to slick you up and stretch you with my fingers first.” He leaned down and kissed her softly again before pulling back completely and nodding at her. Slowly Hope rolled over onto her belly and rose to her hands and knees. Tommy moved beside her and then helped her turn so that she was sideways on the bed. She almost jumped when she felt the slide of his tongue over her anus. He continued on to her opened sex and dipped inside for a taste before moving back to her bottom. His tongue licked and probed her opening and she found it surprisingly erotic. Back and forth he went with his tongue using a mixture of her natural lube and his saliva to loosen and moisten her anus. Shawn stepped up in front of her, his cock thick and hard. This time when she licked her lips she wasn’t denied. Shawn smiled and used one hand to guide the head towards her parted lips. She opened wider, eager to take as much of him into her mouth as she could. He pushed slowly inside not stopping until she held as much of him as she could, until the head nestled at the opening of her throat. She wasn’t gagging and she was dying to see if she could take more of him, if she could swallow him. But he didn’t give her the chance to see. He wrapped his fingers around the flesh that rested against her lips and used it to measure how much of him she could handle comfortably. He used his other hand to thread through the top of her head and hold her at the angle he wanted. Then with a low groan and a nod to Tommy he moved his cock out of her mouth and then thrust quickly back inside. As she felt him butt against the front of her throat and the slight gag reflex that she couldn’t contain she realised that he knew exactly what he was doing. Back and forth he pumped into her mouth, fucking her with his cock. She sucked eagerly at his flesh wanting to consume him, so lost in him that it startled her when she felt the intrusion of Tommy’s lubricated fingers. Gone was his tongue, replaced by his fingers which he was using to manipulate and lubricate her small pink opening. He rimmed around and around her hole, barely dipping the tip of his finger inside as he worked to loosen and soften her anus. Just as she became used to that sensation he changed again and begin to slowly work one of his fingers inside her.

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“Relax, baby,” he encouraged her as he pressed harder against the ring of tight muscles. When he made it inside he held still for a moment before slowly beginning to rotate his digit inside her, rubbing along the walls of her tight channel. She moaned around Shawn’s cock and his groan matched hers as the sensation vibrated along his shaft. Shawn thrust into her mouth and stopped with his cock buried there. His glance fell to her spread buttocks and what Tommy was doing there to prepare her for what was to come. One finger had been joined by another and Tommy was pumping them inside her and then scissoring them apart to help stretch her. She was no virgin there but it had been a while and she was grateful to how carefully he attended her. But she was too eager to remain patient much longer. She wanted them inside her, their cocks, and she wanted it now. She tried to speak but couldn’t. She glanced up at Shawn with pleading in her eyes and he smiled and nodded, cupping her cheek with his hand and slowly gliding all the way out of her mouth. “She’s ready,” he said to Tommy. She felt the shifting on the bed behind her and the slow removal of his fingers. She cried out at the emptiness but it only lasted for the barest of moments before it was replaced by the nozzle of the tube of lubricant. Tommy inserted it inside her and squeezed a generous amount before sliding it out. He let the lube coat her opening again before flipping the cap shut and tossing the bottle aside. Then his cock was there, running along the crease spreading the lube and coating his already slick length. “Ready?” he breathed out roughly behind her as he placed the head against the pucker of her anus. “Yes,” she cried pressing back against him and forcing the head to press hard against her. They both cried out as he began to slip inside. She was slick and well stretched and it was a welcome sting as he entered her. He used his hands to hold her ass cheeks wide so that he and Shawn could watch as Tommy’s cock slowly disappeared into her. He was slow and gentle and as much as she appreciated it, she was ready for more. He was only halfway in when she gritted her teeth and lunged back into him, using her grip on the side of the bed to aid her. The last inches filled her until she could feel his balls against her ass and the cry that left her lips was only slightly softer than his. “Fuck, Hope,” Tommy said, holding her hips with a death grip that was sure to leave bruises to keep her from moving any more.

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“Yes,” she cried straining to move anyway. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.” “Shit,” Tommy said and softened his grip on her. She used it to her advantage and pulled forward only to slam back again. His groan was long and low and he easily took control, fucking into her hard and fast before ramming deep and staying there. Once again his grip kept her from moving. “No,” she cried out frustration ripe in her voice. “It’s too good, Hope,” he told her. “I won’t last. I’m going to come.” “Yes,” she agreed and since she couldn’t move, she ground her hips into his, pushing his cock the barest bit deeper. “Not yet,” he gritted out. “Not until we’re both inside you. Not until you scream with the pleasure we’re going to give you.” He wrapped one arm around her waist holding her tight to his body. Shawn eased her death grip on the side of the bed and together the two men managed to manoeuvre her until Tommy lay under her on the bed, his cock still buried in her ass. Tommy’s legs were between hers and he used that to spread her wide. It was only when they saw Shawn’s now condom covered cock that they realised that he had forgot to do the same. “Shit,” Tommy cussed under his breath and made a move as if he was going to dislodge her. But Hope was having none of that. “Are you clean?” she asked him clasping his hips with her hands. “Yes,” he gritted out. “But I shouldn’t have entered you without protecting you. I’ve never in my life been inside a woman without a condom. Fuck. That’s probably why it feels so fucking fantastic.” “I’ve only ever been with a few local boys . And they always wore condoms.” She tilted her head back and to the side seeking his lips for a reassuring kiss. “I don’t want you to pull out. Besides I’ve been on the pill since I was eighteen. So as long as we’re both clean and there is little risk of pregnancy, then it should be okay. Right?” “You’ve been on the pill since you were eighteen?” Shawn asked. “Dad had me get it when I turned eighteen. I think he knew that I was fooling around and didn’t want me to get pregnant and ruin my marriage.” Both men just grunted at that response but Tommy placed his hands on her breasts and began to fondle them. Shawn moved onto the bed placing his knees just inside her spread

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thighs. Tommy made no more attempts to move and Hope relaxed down into him as Shawn leaned down and braced a hand flat on the bed beside Tommy’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a tight fit,” Shawn said as he pressed the head against her pussy. She moved her hands from Tommy’s hips to Shawn’s wanting to grab him and urge him inside her. But he wouldn’t be hurried. It was torture as he slowly worked his shaft into her gaining a mere inch at a time with every thrust and retreat. Tommy moved his hands down to her hips and used them to hold her firmly impaled on his cock while Shawn continued to make his way inside. “Hurry,” she begged arching her back up so that her hips were pressed tighter between them and her breasts were closer to Shawn’s face. Shawn closed the last distance and took one of her nipples between his teeth as he thrust the rest of the way inside her. She screamed at the pleasure/pain as her flesh was stretched and filled. There was a slight burn, and that with the streaks flowing from her tortured nipple to her womb were almost enough to send her into orgasm. Both men seemed to know it and with a silent communication between them the slow torture was over and gone. Shawn’s hands gripped her hips just above Tommy’s and he began a fast and furious rhythm that had her screaming with ecstasy instantly as one orgasm after another ripped through her. The pleasure began in her very core tightening her like a vice around both men as she exploded in wave after wave. The warmth flowed from her until even her fingers and toes, hell even her scalp was pulsing with the intensity of her releases. “Going to come,” Tommy grunted out and lifted his buttocks up off the bed, driving as deep inside her as he could go. “I’m with you,” Shawn cried out as he pumped harder and faster into her clenching sex before surging just as deep as Tommy and holding still. Hope could feel the hot jets of Tommy’s uncontained semen as he found release in her ass. The hot liquid filled her and made her long to feel the same from Shawn in her pussy. But his was covered and the condom kept each precious drop of fluid from her. Soon she would have them both, just flesh on flesh. It was something she was definitely looking forward to. Shawn collapsed to the side of them and Tommy shifted with him so that they all lay on their sides, both of her men still inside her though already softening from release. She felt

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more content than she had ever been in her life. Never had she felt so sheltered, so loved, so safe. She snuggled down between them. For the first time in a long time she had no fear of what tomorrow might bring. For now she was positive that she could and would face anything, with these two men right beside her every step of the way.

**** Hope’s father stood on the beach watching the boat as it moved out further and further. His second had found her escape. Hope would not have to face the mess that he had made. He prayed that she would be safe and well, that she would get the chance to have the life that she deserved. He had placed the gift on her bed with the money and directions to Faith’s hidden inside. He couldn’t give it to her himself so he had said that it was from Faith. One day maybe his daughters would forgive him for what his grief over losing their mother had done to him, had led him to do. Making a deal with the devil would have been better than the pact he had made. But slowly he was doing everything that he could to help his daughters leave. No one could ever find out that he had a hand in it though. Not his daughters and especially not the man he’d made his deal with. Three more daughters to go and the next one would be the hardest. Charity was already known as the most beautiful girl in the county. She was the spitting image of her mother. She would be watched like a hawk. But somehow he would see her free as well. In fact he already had a plan in mind. With a smile he walked back along the shore headed to the parking lot and his car. He’d tell them that she hadn’t made it in this direction and continue searching frantically for her for the next few days. It was the least he could do.

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Prologue

Hope stood on the deck of the boat two weeks later, Tommy on one side of her and Shawn on the other. She held the bottle in her hands once again filled with the necklace and the letter. Tommy had re-corked it and used hot wax to ensure that it was tightly sealed and that no water would get inside. The magic had worked for them as far as she was concerned. She most definitely had found true love with these two men. Two weeks may not seem like a lot of time but it was long enough for her to know that she was the happiest she had ever been. And she would gladly spend the rest of her life with Tommy and Shawn. “Are you sure?” she asked as she passed the bottle back and forth from hand to hand. “Yes,” Tommy answered placing his hand around her waist and snuggling up against her. “You should be the one to throw it back out there,” Shawn agreed. “You’re our blessing.” He leaned in to her and kissed her softly on the lips before placing his arm around her shoulders and snuggling close to her other side. “It is only right that you throw it out so that it can bless someone else.” She smiled up at them thinking how magical it all was. From runaway bride to contented lover in mere days. It was enough to make her head spin. “I’m the one who has been blessed, not once, but twice,” she told them before turning her gaze out to the sea. “And if I can give that gift to someone else by throwing this bottle, then I would gladly do it every day for the rest of my life.” “Then throw it,” Tommy encouraged. “For others await the hand of fate.” Shawn quoted from the poem. With a contented sigh Hope stepped out from between them until her belly pressed against the rail. Lifting her hand high she heaved the bottle as far out as she could, watching as it landed and bobbed across the surface. Tommy and Shawn joined her and they all linked hands as they watched it move further and further away. “Happy journey,” Hope whispered as she clung to what fate had delivered to her. “As lovers unite, no hand can break,” she quoted. “Never,” Tommy agreed, giving her hand a squeeze.

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“Not true love,” Shawn added and with a tug he turned them towards the stairs that would take them down to the bedroom, and an afternoon filled with loving.

About the Author Lacey Thorn spends her days in small town Indiana the proud mother of three. When she is not busy with one of them she can be found typing away on her computer keyboard or burying her nose in a good book. Like every woman she knows just how chaotic life can be and how appealing that great escape can look. So toss aside the stress and tension of the never ending to do list. For now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride with Lacey. It’s your world…unlaced.

Email: [email protected] Lacey loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Lacey Thorn The Debtor’s Daughters: Faithful Beginnings Brit Party: Maggie’s ménage

Celtic Fire

MOONLIT MAGIC Bronwyn Green

Dedication For Matt - Tá mo chroí istigh ionat

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Chapter One

“You can’t avoid him forever.” Glaring at her best friend, Beckett Matthews crossed her arms over her chest and turned towards the window, watching the lush, green countryside race by. “Sure I can. Just watch me.” There had been nights when she thought it would kill her, but she’d avoided him perfectly well for five long years. Of course, the fact that the Atlantic Ocean had stood between them had made staying away from him somewhat easier. Now that she’d returned to Ireland, steering clear of Kieran Brennan was going to be a bit more difficult. But, she reminded herself, she was just visiting. This was simply a last minute stop on the European museum circuit. She’d be in Dublin only as long as the Tapestry and Textile exhibition. When the tapestries went back to the U.S. so would she, and Kieran would once again be relegated to the land of memories and mistakes. It hadn’t all been a mistake, had it? Longing flooded her at the memory of his lanky, muscled body pressing her into the cool earth under the stars. Shaking off the past, she focused on the present. The present consisted of riding from the airport to her aunt’s cottage outside of Wicklow with Tara. Every landmark they passed brought back memories better left buried. The standing stones where he’d first kissed her. The pond where they’d gone skinny-dipping after dark. The castle ruins where they’d made love. She closed her eyes, willing away the memories. All roads led back to Kieran. “Admit it,” Tara chided, her lilting accent bringing back memories of every summer she’d spent here at her aunt’s home. “You can’t stop thinking about him.” Beckett sighed. She’d never stopped thinking about him. At twenty-three he’d been gorgeous. She’d loved running her fingers through his long tawny hair and staring into his deep, sea green eyes. And God knew she’d never tired of touching him—lean and muscular —golden perfection. She clenched her hands, remembering the feel of his sweat-slick skin against hers.

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She needed to stop behaving like a hormonal eighteen-year old. That chapter of her life was long past. She’d willingly walked away from everything he’d offered—ran was more like it. She ran home to a lonely existence. It was stupid to think that her relationship with Kieran would have turned out like her parents’ relationship had, but she couldn’t free herself from the bone deep fear that he would leave when she needed him most. That he would abandon her like her mother and father. Granted, her mother hadn’t had a choice, but her father did. And he chose to leave her and her siblings after her mother died. Part of her knew that Kieran would never do anything that cowardly, but old fears died hard, apparently. Instead, she’d focused on the physical, fucking him at every opportunity and when he wanted more...she’d run. She pushed away the almost tactile recollection of the way their bodies fit together, only to wonder how they’d fit now. How had he changed? She could only hope he’d developed a receding hairline and a beer belly. Of course, his voice was probably the same. He’d been able to seduce her by simply whispering endearments in his low, sexy brogue. It wasn’t just the accent, though thinking of the way he murmured her name against her neck as he moved inside her had her ready to insist that Tara drop her off on his doorstep. Frowning, Beckett shifted in the seat of the cramped economy car. “It’s been five years. If he’s not married, I’m sure he’s involved with someone.” No matter how much she might still want him, she refused to get involved with a man who belonged to someone else. For all she knew, he could have kids. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him with children—he’d adored his younger siblings and cousins. For a moment, she pictured him happy and in love with someone else. If she’d stayed when he’d asked her— Beckett tried to swallow past the rock that suddenly lodged in her throat. The sting of tears burned her eyes and she blinked rapidly, hoping her friend hadn’t noticed. How could she still feel so strongly about him? Sure, he’d been her first love, not to mention her adolescent-long infatuation, but how could she still be moved to the point of tears by imagining him with someone else? “He’s not involved with anyone.” Tara glanced meaningfully at her. “He hasn’t been with anyone since you left.”

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Beckett snorted. “How stupid do you think I am?” There was no way someone like Kieran would go a few months without a lover, let alone five years. “I’m serious.” “So am I. There’s no way. It’s just not possible.” Her friend glanced away from the road, again. “Have you been with anyone?” she asked even though she already knew the answer. “That’s different.” “I don’t see how.” Why had she asked Tara to pick her up from the airport? If she had taken cab, she could have dodged the topic for a while longer. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t discussed it during the time they’d been apart, but now it seemed impossible to avoid. Beckett dropped her head against the seat rest. Maybe she was still in love with him. Was that the reason she’d never managed more than one or two dates with the guys who’d asked her out? God, she was pathetic. She released the steering wheel and laid her hand on Beckett’s arm. “He needs you, Beck.” She didn’t bother to stifle the laugh that bubbled to the surface. Kieran had never needed anyone—least of all her. She doubted that had changed since she’d last seen him. “He only slept with me because I threw myself at him.” She didn’t bother to disguise the disgust in her voice. “That’s not true,” Tara admonished. It was, and Beckett knew it. She sighed, wishing it were possible to erase the remorse and humiliation. From the time she was thirteen, she’d followed him around like a lovesick puppy. Which, to be honest, was how she’d acted. At the time, he’d been eighteen. The last thing he’d wanted was to deal with a kid with a crush. When she’d turned sixteen, she’d begun flirting with him in earnest. He’d ignored it, treating her like a little sister—just like always. The summer she’d turned eighteen, she’d attempted a clumsy seduction. Her face flushed with the memory of her awkward advances. He’d probably given in because she’d worn him down. Maybe he’d simply had nothing better to do. Or worse, he’d felt sorry for her. The only reason he’d asked her to stay was guilt. Guilt and regret. She’d seen it in his eyes, and she’d still been tempted to say yes. But she didn’t. He would have grown to resent

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her, and that would have hurt more than outright rejection. No. She’d done the right thing by leaving when she did. How often had she tried to convince herself of that over the last few years? More importantly, how long would she continue to try? She squinted against the late afternoon sun as the car turned onto the gravel road that led to her aunt’s home. The whitewashed cottage sat nestled in a brilliant green valley, filled with heather and gorse. Red and yellow roses climbed the outside of the house and garden trellises. Wildflowers in vibrant pinks, purples and blues rioted haphazardly around the yard. In the distance, she could see the crumbling bell tower at Glendalough. She couldn’t wait to wander through the ruins of the monastery again. Situated in between two valley lakes and ancient forests, it was the most peaceful place she’d ever known. There was nothing better than June in Ireland—except maybe June in Ireland with Kieran. But that wasn’t happening. Not this year. Not ever again. With a sinking feeling, she knew she’d have to remind herself of that as soon as she saw him. It was going to be a long summer. Tara parked the car behind an unfamiliar motorcycle. Beckett nodded towards the vehicle. “Is Aunt Bridget riding a bike now?” “No...that belongs to her friend.” Getting out of the car, they unloaded the luggage and brought it into the house. Tara glanced at her wrist-watch. “Shoot. I’ve got to pick up the poppets from my mum. Are you okay to get settled on your own?” “Of course. Bring the kids by later. Aunt Beckett needs hugs.” Tara wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you’ve come back. I’ve missed you like mad, you know.” Beckett hugged her friend in return. “I know. The phone and email just don’t cut it.” The other woman stepped back and smiled, but a dark shadow crossed her eyes. “We really need to talk when I get back.” Worry crawled like bugs over her skin. “Is everything all right, Tara?” “It’s fine—really. There’re just some things you need to know about sooner rather than later.” Beckett scowled at her friend. “It’s not about Kieran, is it?” “Not entirely.” With a wave and that cryptic comment, she was gone, leaving Beckett alone with her thoughts.

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Needing a distraction, she dragged her suitcase towards the bedroom. Sighing, she walked through the familiar cottage rooms. Since she’d been gone, it seemed that time had stopped. The whitewashed walls gleamed brightly in the late morning light in stark contrast to the heavy, dark wood furniture. Colourful scrap quilts covered the beds and the oak mantel glowed warmly above the fieldstone fireplace. A gentle breeze, heavy with the scent of summer roses, blew through the open windows and she breathed deeply. Sun-warmed grass, sweet flowers and bitter greens. The smells brought back a collage of memories—most involved Kieran. How many nights had she spent with him lying in the dew-wet grass staring at the stars after making love? Pushing those thoughts away, Beckett ran a hand over an ornately carved chair— Kieran’s work. He’d still been working on it when she was here last. Absently, she wondered when he’d finished it. What other changes had she missed? The whir of a lawnmower drew her to the window, away from her memories of Kieran —only to be replaced by a whole new set of memories burned into her brain at the sight of him. He’d unlocked Bridget’s shed and had begun mowing the grass along the stream that wove through the property. His chestnut coloured hair hung loose about his shoulders and a silver chain around his neck glinted in the afternoon sun. In deference to the June heat, he’d stripped off his shirt, and his jeans hung low, exposing the glorious curve of his hip and the trail of hair that disappeared into his waistband. She closed her eyes against the almost tactile memory of brushing her cheek and lips over the glossy swirls that covered his stomach. She could remember the sensation of hot, hard silk against her tongue as she’d taken the wide head of his cock between her lips. She could still feel his shuddering intake as she’d engulfed him, still feel his fingers twining and tightening through her hair, still hear his groan as she’d gone down on him. Beckett rested her rapidly heating face against the cool pane of glass and took a deep breath. Reliving these memories wasn’t going to help her deal with him when they finally had to interact. She might insist to Tara that she was over Kieran Brennan, but she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered the sudden silence. The mower had stopped. Opening her eyes, she scanned the yard looking for Kieran. She didn’t particularly want him to know she was here yet. Especially while she was alone.

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The creak of the front door shattered the silence and she whirled to face her past. “Beckett?” The rough need in that single word trailed fingers of anticipation along her spine and set her heart pounding in her chest. She swallowed hard, unable to answer any of the questions reflected in his deep green eyes. Before she could open her mouth, he crossed the room and dragged her forcefully against him. The heat from his sun warmed skin seeped into her as she breathed in his familiar woodsy scent. Now it was overlaid with the tang of sweat and the sharp fragrance of freshly mown grass. His firm, full lips tightened into an annoyed line as he stared at her. Beckett’s head spun and to her own ears, her breathing sounded too fast and uneven. Kieran’s own inhalations brushed his chest against hers with every breath he took. Her nipples pebbled against him, tight knots of near pain. “Five fucking years,” he growled. “And not a goddamn word. I don’t know whether to turn you over my knee or take you now.” He shifted, insinuating his thigh between hers. The rock hard proof of his arousal pressed against her stomach and she bit her lip to stifle the threatening groan. Her cleft flooded with need for his body. Need for him. She hadn’t been in the country for more than an hour and she’d already creamed her panties with want. She was in the same sorry shape she’d been in when she’d fled all those years ago. Daring a glance at his face, she pushed at his chest. “You don’t want this.” He laughed, the sound an almost angry bark as his nostrils flared slightly and he pressed her back against the whitewashed wall of the cottage. Lowering his head, he hovered a fraction of a centimetre above her lips. “The fuck I don’t.” Spearing his fingers through her hair, he held her immobile as he took her mouth, forcing her lips open and delving inside. All thoughts of fighting vanished at her first taste of him. How had she lived without it for so long? He tightened his grip on her, moulding her to his body as she clung to him, digging her fingers into his sweat-slick skin and pulling him closer. How many nights had she made herself come with the memory of fucking this man, only to fall asleep in her cold, empty bed? Too many. She needed the real thing—needed him inside her—filling her—if only for a little while. Even though it was a mistake of epic proportions, she wasn’t about to stop now.

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Kieran groaned as Beckett writhed against him. The rough sound tingled through her body, making her pussy clench. He’d always made that sound when he entered her—like her body was the best place he’d ever been. It was the same sound she imagined when she made herself come with her vibrator, but her toy had never brought her to the same heights Kieran had. Sliding his hand up her waist he cupped her breast. Her tight nipple hardened further at the brush of his hand. Tight coils of need travelled from her breast to her pussy as he plucked and rolled the tender flesh between his thumb and fingers, catching her needy whimpers in his mouth. Leaving her lips, he followed the line of her jaw, trailing kisses to her ear and down her neck. He swiped his tongue across the wildly beating pulse at the base of her neck, and her breath hitched as he tasted her. “I need more,” he murmured against her neck. Dear God, so did she. Slipping his hand beneath her shirt, he palmed her breast, smiling against her skin as her nipple knotted and pressed eagerly into his palm. With a hurried motion he shoved the bra cup aside and rolled her tightened flesh between his callused thumb and forefinger, pinching gently and tugging. The feel of his work-roughened hand on her body had her trembling. It was everything she could do not to beg for more. As it was, a breathy moan that barely sounded like her escaped her lips before she could stop it. He brought his mouth to her ear and bit down on the lobe before whispering, “Remember all the times I made you come just by sucking your nipples?” “Uh-huh,” she whimpered, her breathing shallow. Like she could forget that. The sound of him murmuring to her in Gaelic would drench her panties in nothing flat. God help her if he tried it now. “Think I can still do it?” She shivered at the brush of his lips against the outer shell of her ear. She met his heated gaze and drew a shuddering breath. Her tongue darted out to dampen her lips. “I think you could make me come just by talking.” He plucked at the nipple he still held and his eyes glittered brightly at the challenge. “Shall I try, then?”

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She trembled, clutching onto his waist. The way he looked at her, she felt like the floor was about to slide out from under her. Her fingers slipped beneath his waistband and she noticed his nostrils flare as he took a breath. Sliding his free arm around her waist, he pulled her flush against him. His cock was a hard, thick ridge behind his jeans pressing against her belly. She shifted and tried to pull him closer. He grinned, his smile almost wicked. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” Instead of responding, she dragged her fingers over his torso, stroking his chest, his back, anywhere she could reach. She wanted to make him as crazy with need as he made her. “You should know,” he grated as she dropped eager kisses on his chest, “that as soon as I make you come, I’m going to spread those pretty thighs of yours and eat you until you come again.” Something low in her abdomen fluttered and clenched at his coarse words. “It’s been forever, but I can still remember the sweet taste of your cream.” He nipped at her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do you still like to have your pussy licked as much as you used to?” She couldn’t catch her breath. His words wound around her, stroking her, promising her pleasure she’d only dreamed about for the past five years. “I remember laying you down in the ruins and burying my head between your legs while your juices soaked the ground beneath us. Do you remember that, Beckett?” Feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment, she looked away, but he nipped at her lower lip and she met his eyes, trapping herself in his deep green gaze. “Do you remember what it felt like to have my tongue and fingers inside you? Bringing you off? Do you remember how it felt to have my cock inside you?” A fresh rush of moisture flooded her, dampening the insides of her thighs. Right. Like she could forget that. Leaning closer, she pushed aside the pendant that hung around his neck and closed her teeth around his nipple, biting gently. Sliding his hand into the hair at her nape he tugged her head back. He held her motionless, consuming her with his gaze. “Keep that up, céadsearc, and I won’t last long enough to make you come before I take you.”

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Céadsearc? Her breath stalled in her throat. Had he called her that from force of habit or did he still consider her his beloved? Her heart stuttered in her chest as she tried to force the stalled breath into her lungs. He stared at her like he was starving. For her. She wished he’d just touch her already. Her breasts ached, swollen with need. She needed his mouth on her. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it off, dropping it on the floor. Kieran’s eyes darkened as he stared at her nearly bare flesh, his chest heaving. She shifted under his intense gaze. She’d never stripped for anyone else and his intense perusal left her feeling suddenly nervous. She lifted her hand to cover her exposed breast, but he stopped her. “Don’t,” he grated as he skimmed his hands along the curve of her waist, upward to unfasten her bra and slip it from her body. “I need to see you,” he whispered as the fabric fell from his hand. Reaching out, he snagged the button on her shorts and released the closure. “All of you.” As the shorts dropped to the floor, he leaned forward and closed his lips around her nipple, sucking it into the wet heat of his mouth. Her back arched and she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him more tightly to her. Kieran alternated between her breasts, devouring one, then the other. Desire slammed through her and her pussy ached with neglect. She needed him to fill the gnawing emptiness inside of her. She sighed. It was more than a physical void. Her heart was just as barren as her body, but with Kieran in her arms, that loneliness was beginning to ebb. Beckett closed her eyes against the tears that gathered, reminding herself that her body was all he was interested in. They hadn’t gotten enough of one another before she left, and he was just making up for lost time. Hell, wasn’t she doing the same thing? She didn’t want anything permanent with him. She just wanted him to fuck her. And she’d repeat it to herself as often as it took to believe it.

Kieran lifted his head and stared into the eyes of the woman he’d feared he’d never see again. Sliding his hands through the strawberry-blonde silk of her hair, he held her captive for another kiss—laying claim to her body and soul. He still wanted to throttle her for the

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hell she’d put him through, but first he planned to bury himself between her legs until she screamed like a beansidhe. Sex first, fight later. For so long he was convinced he’d never see her again. Never touch her. Never taste her. Never lose himself in her lush body. But now she opened for his kiss and pulled him closer. He could scarcely believe she was actually here, grinding against him, dragging her fingertips over his back, urging him closer. If he was any kind of decent, he’d tell her what awaited her in a few days’ time, but he couldn’t force his mouth to do anything other than worship at her body. Her hand slipped under the waistband of his pants to stroke his skin. The sensation of her touch ratcheted through him. Her hands on his body felt better than anything he could recall in recent memory and he considered dropping trou to give her better access, but first he wanted to see her come. Two minutes in her presence and he was reduced to nothing more than a randy school boy. He was pathetic. Irritation edged his lust. He wouldn’t be in this position had she stayed when he’d asked her. He’d begged her to stay. Begged her to return to him. He’d have followed her to the States if he could have. Hell, he’d tried to leave this godforsaken isle more than once only to have the geis—the fucking curse of the Faery King—rain down upon his head. Willing away the pain of the past, he breathed her in and the scent of roses and sandalwood twined around him. Innocently erotic—just like Beckett. Well, like she’d been five years ago when he’d first taken her. Unease filtered through his awareness. Who knew what she was like now. She hadn’t been bound by the same curse he had. Tara had promised him Beckett didn’t have a lover now, but that didn’t mean she’d been without one since they’d been apart. Pain shot through him at the thought of her with other men. He pushed it aside and focused on her—on this present moment. “I know I promised I’d make you come with words alone, but I can’t keep my hands and mouth off you.” A wry smile curved her lips. “Do you hear me complaining?” He dropped to his knees, bringing his mouth even with her belly. The heady scent of her arousal drifted to him as he brushed his lips back and forth over her silk covered mound. His mouth watered with the need to taste her. Hooking his fingers in the elastic of her panties, he dragged the satiny fabric down her legs, loving the shiver that wracked her body.

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Swallowing hard, he spread her lips with his thumbs and gazed at her. She was beautiful—pink and glistening. Leaning forward to taste her, he swiped his tongue through her gathering cream as she gripped his shoulders for balance. “Kieran,” she groaned. “I’m right here, céadsearc,” he murmured between tastes. “And I’m not going anywhere.” Her juices spilled like honeyed wine across his lips. Thrumming his fingers over her clit, he darted his tongue into her snug passage as she thrust her hips against him. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as tremors shot through her body. He welcomed the sharp bite of pain. It kept his focus on Beckett instead of spilling in his pants like an untried boy, but he was close. The taste of her made his cock throb and his balls pull up tight. He wanted nothing more than to drive inside her until they were both sated and breathless with exhaustion. Five years worth of pent up longing and need raced through his body and he knew he couldn’t contain himself any longer. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom that had been hers whenever she’d stayed with her aunt. “But my clothes, what if Aunt Bridget comes back...” Kicking the door shut, he tossed her on the bed, glorying in her nakedness. “I’m sure she’ll figure it out.” She glanced once at the closed door before sitting up and unfastening his belt and unzipping his jeans. His cock sprung into her waiting hands and she brushed the leaking head across her lips, stopping briefly to lick the droplets of pre-cum from him before engulfing his head in the warmth of her mouth. He heard his response as if it belonged to someone else. Teeth gritted, he inhaled sharply, his hands tangling in her hair. “Beckett,” he ground out. Taking him from her mouth, she met his gaze, impish humour in her eyes. “Yes?” He’d almost forgotten how much he loved her playful nature. Except for the aching in his gut to take her and the residual hurt at her refusal to speak with him before now, he could almost believe they hadn’t been apart for so long. But they had and there was plenty of lost time to make up for—particularly since she’d likely no longer be willing to speak to him after she found out what was in store for her.

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Shoving the inevitable from his head, he sank to his knees and pushed her back to the bed as he pulled her legs over his shoulders. “What are you doing?” she asked with a yelp. Staring past the tight strawberry blonde curls that covered her mound, up the slope of her slightly rounded belly, past her pink-tipped breasts to meet eyes the colour of bluebells, he grinned. “What do you think I’m doing?” Holding her gaze, he lowered his mouth to her slick sex and lapped at her sweet honey. He slid a finger into her sheath, nearly groaning when he felt how firmly she gripped him. He wasn’t going to last five seconds once he got inside her tight pussy. Gently, he added another finger and began to work in and out of her as she writhed beneath his touch. Her skin flushed a deep pink as she thrust against him. “More Kieran. Harder, please.” As if he’d deny her. He added a third finger and worked harder against her, pushing in and out while a fine sheen of perspiration broke out on her skin. Her cries made him long to drive his cock into her, but he wouldn’t—not until she came and came hard. “I can’t wait to get inside you, céadsearc. I need to feel you come.” She whimpered at his words, murmuring unintelligibly. As he watched, she fingered her own nipples, pinching and twisting them. Christ, she was fucking gorgeous. He wished he had another set of hands to pleasure her with. Of course, in a few days’ time, they’d have exactly that. The King of the Sidhe would be joining them. Anger and unease twisted in his gut. He didn’t want to share the woman he loved with Aohdan. The bastard had made his life a living hell for the last five years and it didn’t look like he was about to stop any time soon. Frustration drove Kieran and he finger fucked her harder. Her heels dug into his back and she pulled him more snugly against her pussy. She hovered on the edge of orgasm. He was beginning to think he needed her release almost as much as she did. He pulled her clit between his lips drawing on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Her body bowed off the bed and she screamed out her completion. Gently, he lapped up the juices that coated her cunt and thighs as her eyes slowly fluttered open. “Kieran, please...” “Please what, love? I’m right here.” She reached towards him. “I need you inside me. Now.”

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She didn’t have to ask twice. Letting her thighs fall from his shoulders to settle on the bed, he urged her to the middle of the mattress and covered her with his body. His cock settled heavily between her legs, slipping through the moisture pooling there. He wasn’t even inside her yet, and he was ready to come. Beckett grabbed his ass and dug her nails in, urging him forward. Bracing his arms alongside her, he slammed into her, stopping as she gasped and stiffened beneath him. Carefully, he brushed the hair from her eyes. “Did I hurt you?” Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “No. It’s just been a while.” A shy smile curved her lips as she stared into his eyes. “Since that last night you and I spent at the ruins.” He wondered if his relief was as evident as it felt. He hadn’t expected that she’d be faithful to him—after all, she’d left him, presumably to never return. But the fact that she hadn’t fucked anyone else gave him hope that she still loved him. She shifted against him in a none-too-subtle hint. Slowly he withdrew, pulling against her grasping muscles before driving back in. Christ, how had he lived without this exquisite pleasure for so long? More blood surged to his cock as he swelled almost painfully within her. He ploughed forward again and again as he urged her legs around his waist. The angle of contact changed and he shafted her deeper, harder, gritting his teeth to keep from coming too soon. The heavy pendant he wore dug into his sternum as he gathered her into his arms, moulding her body to his as he continued to bury himself, revelling in the welcoming clench of her pussy. Contractions rippled around his cock as her release rushed through her, shaking her violently as he held her. She milked his cock relentlessly. Sharp sensation centred at the base of his spine then streaked outward along his limbs, pooling at the base of his skull before bursting through his cock. His orgasm shot through him, filling her in shuddering gushes. Beckett clung to him as their breathing gradually returned to normal. Unwilling to pull from her warmth, he continued to hold her close as she toyed with the stone pendant that dangled between them. The words from the note he’d found with the necklace wound through his mind and he wondered if having Beckett in his arms again was due to the magic the note had promised. A stone that’s blessed by lovers’ hands

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To bless the wearer with a love that stands. Through time and toil, no stopping fate As lovers unite, no hand can break. So take this token and wear it true, Destiny awaits with love for you. A favour I ask from you to me Once blessed return my gift to the sea. For others await the hand of fate My blessing to love’s true mates. It wasn’t any more ridiculous than being cursed by the Faery King, he supposed. And he had put the damn thing on in hope that the spell would prove true. So far, so good. Beckett was naked in his arms and he didn’t have any intention of letting her out of this bed before he was damn good and ready. Gently, he traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb, loving the way her lips parted as she stared at him. “Christ, I’ve missed you,” he breathed as he lowered his head for a kiss. “I missed you, too,” she murmured against his mouth before surrendering and sliding her tongue into his mouth. Despite the fact that they’d only just finished, he found himself hardening inside her again. He dragged open-mouthed kisses along her neck to the indentation behind her ear. She shivered and her nipples hardened into tight peaks that grazed his chest. He flexed within her biting back a groan as her sheath rippled around him. As good as he felt right now, his anger still lurked beneath the surface tightening his skin with the same effect as a cold wind. Lifting his head he stared into her bottomless, blue eyes. “Why?” He supposed he could have been more specific, but in the years he’d known her, Beckett had never had any trouble reading him. She looked away. “Why?” he asked again. “I ask you to marry me and you run away without a word. What the hell kind of answer is that?” She pushed at his chest. “This is a mistake.” Holding her face, he forced her to meet his gaze. “The fuck it is.” She didn’t speak.

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“How can this be a mistake? You’re all I’ve wanted for five bloody years.” Her eyes clouded and she pressed her trembling lips together. His stomach dropped to the floorboards in the face of such bare desire and pain reflected back at him. He hadn’t suffered alone.

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Chapter Two

Beckett swallowed hard, pushing down everything within her that wanted to squeal with joy. She needed to remember that he didn’t really mean it. Not really. “It is a mistake. People always want what they shouldn’t have. They want things that are bad for them.” The corner of his mouth quirked and her stomach flip-flopped at the sight of his crooked smile. “So you’re saying you’re bad for me.” “More like you’re bad for me,” she mumbled. It was true. She’d already suffered a broken heart because of him. Now it crumbled a little more with every kiss, every touch, every whispered word. “Right. So I just imagined that you milked my cock ‘til I was spent, then?” He shifted, his still hard length caressing her swollen tissues. “Which means that I must have imagined you screaming my name loud enough that the neighbours heard it down the way.” Blushing, she took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way his chest hair abraded her tender nipples. His hair fell forward, partially shielding his eyes, but his firm, full lips were still visible—twisted in an angry frown. “God damn it, Beckett. I wanted to marry you.” Past tense. “You didn’t mean it.” “And you’re somehow privy to my most intimate thoughts?” He glowered at her. Needing space to breathe—hell, to think—she pushed at his shoulders. “I’m not an idiot. I saw the regret in your eyes as soon as you asked me.” In a move too quick for her to follow, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. His weight rested more fully on her pelvis and she felt him swell and harden further inside her. How could he be ready for her again? Her pussy clenched around him and she bit her lip to keep from groaning aloud. How could she be ready for him? Completely aware of her arousal, he rocked against her, sliding through her passage, slick with their combined releases. His eyes closed and his lips twisted in a feral grimace. Breathing deeply, he opened his eyes and stopped moving, but his arms shook slightly at his restraint. “If you saw regret in my eyes it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you.”

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“Right.” She tried to pull her hands from his grasp, but he held tight and her struggling only lodged him more deeply within her. “I’d been desperate for you since you’d turned fifteen.” “Took you long enough to do anything about it,” she groused. “I was five years older. An adult. I didn’t really fancy doing time for doing you.” His eyes darkened as he stared at the slope of her exposed breast. “But don’t think I wasn’t tempted.” Her nipples constricted at his scrutiny. Lowering his head, he sucked a tight peak into his mouth, and she arched against him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stay unyielding, but he knew her—knew her body too well. With his free hand, he plucked at the other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing a strangled groan from her. Lifting his head from her breast, he nipped at her lower lip. “Look at me, céadsearc.” Her belly twisted and flopped at the endearment. His brogue had grown rougher, more pronounced with his arousal, and the sound of it sent hordes of butterflies marauding through her. “Open your eyes,” he commanded, adjusting his hold on her wrists. She shivered at his tone, her desire heightened by his mastery of her body. Reluctantly, she complied, trying to mask her response. “What?” “You still haven’t answered the question.” What question? It was hard to think with him slowly rocking in and out of her body. “Why did you leave?” he elaborated, never ceasing his motion. She sighed. At the very least, she supposed she owed him the truth. “Look, I followed you around like a lovesick puppy for years and I finally wore you down. I think you felt guilty because of it and asked me to marry you. It doesn’t mean we had anything then and it certainly doesn’t mean we have anything now.” His brow furrowed as he frowned looking at their joined bodies. “What the hell do you call this, then?” “Sex. Closure. I left without saying goodbye, so this is goodbye. Five years late.” Incredulousness coloured his features. “This is anything but goodbye, love.” Her heart constricted in her chest and she had to force words past her lips. “It can’t be anything else. It just can’t.”

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His entire body stilled. “I love you, Beckett.” Her breath caught and she blinked away tears. “You can’t,” she said flatly. “You don’t even know me anymore.” “Right.” His expression hardened. “Do you still pick up pretty stones when you’re out walking and bring them home?” She nodded. “Do you still alphabetise your book and music collection?” “Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do you still only eat the stalks of broccoli and leave the tops?” She sighed. “It’s not like any of this matters, but yeah.” “Do you still colour coordinate your bath towels? Feed the squirrels outside your apartment? Start stitchery projects you never finish? Visit your mum’s grave every year and bring her daffodils when they bloom?” “Yes, yes, yes and yes,” she practically growled. “There you are, then.” He shrugged slightly, the small movement torturing her already sensitive nipples. “I know you,” he said simply as he held her gaze, almost daring her to look away. He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “The new things and changes, I look forward to learning.” His gaze hardened as if expecting an argument. “I’m not going to lose you again.” She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to tug her arms free. “You don’t have me.” Kieran tightened his hold on her and covered her mouth with his free hand. A fresh rush of moisture coated them both and she groaned at his control over her. “We both know you’re lying.” She tried to argue from behind his hand as he withdrew slightly and pushed forward again, filling her completely. Her cunt rippled around him and her groan caught on his palm. A slow, wicked grin curved his lips. “Well, that’s interesting, isn’t it?” “What now?” she asked beneath his fingers, trying to force a note of boredom into her voice. “You like the way I’m holding you down— keeping you captive.” “I do not. Now get off me!” Any severity in her tone was muffled by his huge hand.

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Ignoring her outburst, he thrust inside her again. “I think you do. Your skin is flushed and your breathing has quickened. Your nipples are hard little nubs begging for my attention.” Gently, he licked one aching tip before blowing a gentle stream of air across it. Biting her lip, she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right. There was something about being at his mercy that was a total turn on. “Then there’s your pussy.” She glared at him and he laughed. “When I pin you to the bed or cover your mouth, your cunt floods and grips me so hard I can barely move. You like it.” “Fuck you.” “That’s the plan, love.” His eyes sparkled with amusement and arousal. “First, an experiment.” Nervous anticipation fluttered through her middle as he freed her mouth and reached alongside the bed. The rustle of denim and leather transformed anticipation to worry. She shifted beneath him, her clit grinding against his pelvic bone. Distracted by the sensation shuttling through her body, she barely noticed when he replaced his grip on her wrists with his belt. She yanked against it as he secured the other end to the open metalwork of the headboard. “Kieran,” she warned. The supple leather of his belt didn’t hurt, but she wouldn’t get out easily. “Untie me.” “Later.” With long, purposeful strokes, he slid in and out of her pussy. “You’re getting even wetter,” he murmured. “So tight. So wet for me.” Using both hands, he pressed her breasts together and sucked on her nipples—one after the other. The scruff on his cheeks and jaw scraped her tender skin, leaving a delicious burn as he feasted on her. An agonized groan ripped from her. She didn’t bother trying to hide her needy response as he nipped and sucked at her flesh. Despite the fact that she could barely admit it to herself, she was exactly where she wanted to be since she’d left. With what little motion she could manage, she thrust against him—urging him faster and harder. She wanted to feel his sun-gold skin under her hands, but she couldn’t wriggle free of her bindings. For the first time since he’d secured her, she glanced towards where the belt was attached to the bed and

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her pussy flooded at the sight. The dark-coloured leather was an erotic contrast to her pale skin. Helpless, she was stretched out before him—his for the taking. Her internal muscles rippled around him at the thought, and he sucked in a harsh breath. She met his piercing stare as he lifted his head from her breasts. His eyes were so dark, she could barely discern the green colour. His hot gaze slid over her body, and she shivered under the almost tactile caress. “Looks like we’ve both learned something new. You like being bound.” Dropping his head, he nuzzled the valley between her breasts. “And I like binding you.” His dark words stroked her inside and out. She bit her lip on a whimper as he thrust deeply inside her. “I have never seen anything so fucking hot. You stretched and secured,” he whispered as he thrust again. “Waiting for me.” He ground his pelvis against hers, tormenting her clit. “At my mercy,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. He punctuated his thrust by biting down on the side of her neck where it joined her shoulder, and she shattered. Her pussy clamped down on him, rhythmically squeezing him while sensation slammed through her body. Blood roared though her ears while she shook, screaming in his arms. Her heart still pounded wildly in her chest as she noticed the harsh sounds of their combined breathing filling the room. Becoming aware of her body again, she sighed at the loss as he eased out of her. With gentle hands, he rolled her over and leaned over her back, the ends of his hair tickling her cheek. “We’re not finished yet, céadsearc.” He trailed his lips and fingertips down her spine to the small of her back. His hands urged her to her knees. The belt didn’t give. Her head and chest remained bowed to the bed while her ass was in the air. The mattress sank as he knelt behind her. She’d never felt so exposed, but Kieran’s sharp inhalation was all she needed to know he liked what he saw. Palming her ass, he leaned forward, dropping more kisses at the base of her spine. “Do you have any idea what it does to me to see you like this?” he murmured against her skin. Shaking her head was the most coherent response she could manage. Kieran stroked her thighs and she trembled as he urged them further apart. “So pretty with your ass up in the air, waiting for my cock. Waiting for me to fill you. Waiting for me to make you come.” She shook as he dragged the wide head of his cock along her cleft. “Oh God...”

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Grasping her hips, he surged into her, working his thick length in and out of her pussy, filling her needy body. Heat speared through her as she stretched to accommodate him. How had she done without this for so long? How would she do without it when she left him again? His fingers dug into her flesh as he shafted her harder. Bruises would be inevitable, but worth it. Wanting him to be as desperate for release as she was, she slammed her hips backward to meet every thrust. Splaying his hand on the small of her back, he steadied her as he drove home. Her pussy clenched in time with every hot, wet slap of his balls against her cunt. His grunting whispers had long ago switched to Gaelic as he shoved hard and heavy into her willing body. His ragged voice was more than enough to make her come. Dragging his fingers from her back, he dipped them in her sopping pussy before spreading their moisture over the taut ring of muscles in her ass. “Kieran?” she called, unable to keep the tremor of fear from her voice. “Relax,” he soothed as he rimmed the puckered hole with his thumb. With insistent pressure, he pushed his way inside. He worked in and out of her ass in time with his plunging cock, stroking the thin membrane that separated his erection from his hand. For the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like to be fucked by two men. The thought made her wetter still as he ploughed in and out of her grasping body. The sensations were too much. The grasping became a clawing need that rippled through her cunt, seeking escape. “Christ, céadsearc. You’re going to make me come,” he groaned, never slowing his sweet assault. His desperation-laced whisper sent her over the edge. Her release spiralled outward from her womb, sending pleasure spearing through her limbs as contractions continued to wrack her body. Kieran slammed into her, filling her with hot, shuddering gushes. Gradually, his motions slowed, then stopped. Still inside her, he bowed his forehead to her back and brushed kisses over her spine. Laying his cheek against her damp skin, he wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “Tá grá agam duit.”

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95

Tears pricked her eyes and her heart ached. She may have gone five years without hearing the language, but she hadn’t forgotten the sound of Kieran telling her he loved her. She doubted she ever would. Collapsing to the bed, he tugged her down with him and gently unfastened her bindings. Her wrists might be free, but her heart wasn’t. I love you. The words formed in her mouth, but she couldn’t say them. Wouldn’t say them. Her heart was barely holding together now—she wasn’t about to put it on the chopping block and hope for the best. Swallowing hard, she forced away the pain of loss and focused on savouring this short time with Kieran. He gathered her in his arms and gently massaged her wrists, placing tender kisses along her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she snuggled into his warmth. Her body ached pleasantly as she stretched and twisted in his embrace. The cool metal and stone of his pendant thunked against her chest. Lifting it, she inspected the hammered silverwork that twined around a deep green centre stone. The necklace was old—much older than she would have thought at first glance. Unable to ignore her curator training, she turned it this way and that, admiring the craftsmanship of the piece. Granted, she usually worked with fabrics rather than metals, but she could still tell it was old. The mottled shades of green reminded her of Kieran’s eyes. Eyes that watched her expectantly. “Where did you get this?” she asked. At the suddenly guarded expression in his eyes, she knew she wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to say. He opened his mouth and paused. “It’s old, Kieran.” She looked more carefully at the bail that supported the chain and then back at him. “Really old.” He shook his hair from his eyes. “It’s a long story.” “I’m listening.” She let the pendant slip from her fingers. His eyes tender, he traced the contours of her face. “I think it would be better if I showed you.” “Okay. So show me already.” Leaning forward, Kieran took her mouth in an achingly slow kiss. He lifted his head and grinned. “I think I should show you the shower, first.”

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She shifted and wrinkled her nose, feeling the sticky results of the last few hours. “Fine, but don’t think you’re going to distract me.” She tapped the stone hanging around his neck. “I want to know what you’re being so evasive about.” He laughed as he pulled her to a standing position and quickly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m still having trouble believing you’re not a figment of my sex deprived imagination.” She snorted. “Sex deprived? Somehow I doubt you’ve suffered the burden of abstinence.” Hurt flashed through his eyes, but it was gone before she was sure she’d actually seen it. His arms fell away from her. “Believe what you want. You always have.” He scooped up his clothes and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. She regretted the words as soon as they’d left her mouth, but with no way to call them back she was reduced to gathering her own clothes and following him to the bathroom. Feeling like a complete ass, she pushed open the bathroom door to see him disappear behind the shower curtain. “Kieran?” The only response was the sound of the tap being turned and water tumbling into the tub. She pushed open the shower curtain and met his hard green gaze. “I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “Believe me or don’t. It doesn’t matter.” Until now, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested Kieran could be celibate for more than three days. Now she wasn’t so sure. She’d truly hurt him with her disbelieving words and more than anything she wanted to take them back or at least make it better. She watched as he tilted his head under the spray of water the droplets coating his body. Thick muscled thighs flowed into slim hips and a trim waist. Amazingly, his thick cock was already half hard again. She watched, almost hypnotised as it rose towards his tightly muscled stomach. All but ignoring her, he quickly scrubbed and rinsed himself. He moved to exit the tub, but she stopped him, placing her hand on the centre of his broad, perfectly formed chest.

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Finally, he met her gaze, his jaw tight. She gently pushed him backward to stand under the spray of water and followed him into the tub. Sinking to her knees, she grasped his penis, wrapping her fingers around his expanding girth. “This isn’t necessary, Beckett.” Looking up past his taut muscles, perfectly sculpted by years of hard work, she met his stony gaze. “I’m not doing this because I think I have to.” She inched closer and traced the heavy head of his erection with the tip of her tongue. His eyes closed and he drew a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The needy sound prickled along her skin. He obviously wasn’t about to accept her apology right now, but he might accept this.

Kieran fisted his hands at his sides in an effort not to grab Beckett by the back of the head and shove his cock all the way down her throat. It was a nearly impossible battle. She engulfed him entirely, and he couldn’t hold back the moan that welled up within him. Despite the fact that he’d just fucked her twice, his dick was ready for more. Opening his eyes, he watched as her soft lips stretched to accommodate him as he slowly fucked in and out of her warmth. Water sluiced over her, darkening her hair to burnished copper and running in rivulets over her creamy skin. He wanted to lick every drop from her body and fill her again. It was insane. The more he got of her, the more he wanted. Gripping the base of his cock, she slid her mouth up and down its swollen length, taking him as far as she could. His knees nearly buckled at the wicked rush of pleasure as he hit the back of her throat and slid further still. Reaching out, he braced one hand on the wall for balance and tangled his other hand in her silken hair. With gentle suction, she pulled back, exposing his cock to the suddenly stinging spray of the shower. He caught his breath at the sensation. After being in the heated depths of her mouth, the water was almost too much, but she wouldn’t let up. She worked him harder and faster as she lightly squeezed his balls in time with her sucking. Coils of bliss tightened at the base of his spine and radiated downwards to tug on his balls. He was close. Much more of this, and he’d be past the point of no return. “Beckett,” he breathed. It was getting difficult to form words. “Stop.”

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In response, she gripped his cock more firmly, her fingers not quite meeting. Apparently unwilling to release him, she sucked harder, pulling him deeper. Black spots peppered his vision as his fingers twisted in her hair. “Gonna…come.” She murmured her agreement around his flesh and the slight vibrations from her voice sent him tumbling over the edge. The tight band of restriction snapped and streaks of pleasure sped up his spine to tingle at the base of his skull and back down his spine again before bursting through his cock and down her throat. Through half-opened eyes, he watched as she swallowed, draining him dry. Finally, she sat back and looked up at him, water droplets trembling on her eyelashes. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, dropping a tender kiss on her forehead. “I know you don’t believe me, but I haven’t been with anyone else.” Of course, some nights he’d been so angry and lonely he’d wanted to, but the geis kept him from doing anything about it. If he was honest with himself, it had been more than the bloody curse. He hadn’t truly wanted anyone but Beckett. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “I believe you.” She had the good grace to look shamefaced. “Look at it from my perspective.” He nodded for her to continue. “I’ve known you since I was thirteen and until that last summer, you had one girl after another after another.” “I was young. And randy.” Her lips quirked into a half smile. “Clearly.” She shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat. “You can see why it was difficult to believe you’d go without…well…anything.” His conscious stirred guiltily. The temptation had always been there. Sometimes he wondered, without the Sidhe’s curse, if he’d have remained faithful. Of course, without the fucking curse he’d have followed her to the States. He wouldn’t have let her run away. “I love you, you stubborn git.” Her lips trembled and she met his gaze. “I love you, too.” The tightness in his chest eased, and he kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue. It was a far bigger turn on than he would have imagined. He sighed inwardly. He wasn’t recovered enough for another round, and he doubted she was either. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and gazed her.

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Her eyes filled with tears and she looked miserable—wracked with guilt. Maybe he’d gotten through to her. “I’m sorry I disappeared without a word.” His eyes burned, but he blinked away the sensation of sudden tears. “Don’t think we’re finished discussing that, but the water’s getting cold, and I’m thinking you’re going to want to finish rinsing.” Handing her the soap, he watched as she quickly lathered and washed herself under the spray of the rapidly chilling water. The bubbles raced over her supple curves to swirl around their feet and down the drain. He skimmed his fingers over the swell of her hip and the indentation of her waist. She’d always had a gorgeous figure, but five years had completed the transformation from girl to woman. Her breasts were fuller and her hips wider—perfect for fucking. Perfect for him. Perfect for the Faery King, too, he supposed bitterly. Inexplicably, his cock stirred at the thought. Did he want to share her with another man? No. He’d just gotten her back. He was only going through with this ritual because it was required of him. Yet dark images of Beckett spread between them crowded his mind. Aodhan’s tongue licking her tight little pussy while he fucked her mouth. One cock buried in her cunt and the other working her ass. Both of them suckling at her breasts. The visions in his head were nearly enough to make him come. Again. Would she enjoy two men at once? Would she ever speak to him again once he explained what was required of her in a few days’ time? Anger stirred again at having to share her. He understood that the ritual had been going on since the beginning of time. Certain mortals—those of Sidhe descent, like him— were forced to share their women as tribute to the king. And not just any woman would do— it had to be the mortal’s mate. The one he loved above all others. In return, Kieran and Beckett would receive the king’s goodwill and protection. Kieran scrubbed his hand over his face. He could refuse, of course, but the consequences would mean never seeing Beckett again. Pushing aside the unpleasant thoughts, he glanced towards her. Head tilted back, she rinsed the shampoo from her long, thick hair. Her nipples stood out from her body like tight little stones, and he couldn’t resist drawing one into his mouth and sucking hard. She cried out, clutching his shoulder with a soapy hand.

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Unable to help himself, he continued to suckle her nipple while he slid his fingers down into the thatch of tight curls covering her mound. Selfish though it might be, he needed to hear her scream. For him. Spreading her pussy lips wide, he dragged his fingers up and down the length of her swollen cleft. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she clung to him. Turning her slightly, he let the chilly water beat down on her flesh, smiling grimly at the guttural moan that tore from her parted lips. He quickened the pace, bearing down on her clit with the heel of his hand while she writhed under his touch, her cries rapid and breathless. Her nipple tightened further against his tongue. She was so close. He could feel her impending orgasm as she strained against him. Lifting his hand, he tapped her clit sharply and her release was instantaneous. Her body stiffened, and she shuddered against him, screaming his name so loudly he was positive Aodhan heard her. Satisfaction curled through Kieran as he soothed her, cradling her in his arms while she caught her breath.

**** Kieran pulled the motorbike to a stop in front of his house and shoved the kickstand down. The way Beckett had plastered herself to his body during the rough ride over the hilly terrain reminded him of every summer they’d spent together. Despite the fact that they’d had no contact in years, they’d quickly fallen back into their pattern of relating to one another. It was as if she’d never left. Their amity gave him hope that the poem had been right, that she’d be back to stay with him forever. Of course, her willingness might falter when she found out what was in store for her. She swung her leg over the bike and stood up. Unbuckling the helmet, she set it on the seat behind her and inspected the quaint fieldstone cottage. Suddenly nervous, he wiped his damp hands on his jeans. He’d purchased this house just outside Glendalough the year after she’d left, hoping that someday she’d return and they could live here, eventually raising a family. He looked around and tried to see everything through her eyes. The cottage sat next to a stream that gurgled quietly and glinted in the late afternoon light. Beckett followed it around the back of the cottage and the outbuilding that housed his wood shop and through the sun-dappled woods that surrounded the buildings. With the ruins of the monastery

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standing sentry in the distance and his family in the next village over, it was the perfect place to live. Her smile broadened as she explored the area. Laughing, she picked up a pebble from the cold waters of the rushing stream and slipped it into the pocket of her shorts. She turned her brilliant smile on him, and he felt the force of it in his chest. Christ, he loved her. He couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough for her. “I love it, Kieran. It’s so beautiful.” “More so, now that you’re here.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Grabbing his hand, she tugged him towards the house. “Let’s see the rest.” Unlocking the door, he ushered her inside, watching as she wandered from room to room running her fingertips over the furniture he’d made. He waited, knowing she’d notice the ancient bottle and its parchment sooner or later. That was why he’d brought her here. Sure he had fantasies of fucking her in the bed he’d carved for them. In fact, he hoped to indulge in that particular fantasy in the very near future, but first he needed to find out exactly what the chances of their future were. Beckett’s gasp sounded from across the room, and he knew she’d found the bottle. Cradling it in her hands, she turned to face him. “Where did you get this?” He tapped the stone pendant around his neck. “It came with the necklace.” Crossing the room, he lifted the bottle from her hands. Worn smooth by endless years in the sea, the glass was more opaque than translucent, but the size and shape of the scroll could still be discerned. “A few weeks ago, I was walking along the beach looking for driftwood to use in a commissioned piece for one of the galleries in Dublin, and I saw this bobbing a few metres from shore. I waded out to get it, thinking it was trash, but then I saw this inside.” Carefully he removed the stopper and slid the brittle paper into the palm of his hand. Setting the bottle on the table, he unrolled the message so she could read the words herself. Her eyes widened as she scanned the painstakingly written text. “Kieran. Look at the date! 1264? This belongs in a museum, not in your dining room!” He shook his head and rerolled the delicate note returning it to the safety of the bottle.

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“What do you mean, no?” she demanded. “The paper needs to be carbon dated for authenticity. And holy shit—you’re wearing an artefact! You took a shower with it on for God’s sake.” Colour bloomed high in her cheeks, and she began pacing the room. He grinned. This was the exact response he’d expected. In some ways, she was so predictable. Ever the preserver of history, she stopped in front of him with her hands on her hips. “We have to take everything to Dublin. This find needs to be examined and verified.” Grabbing her fluttering hands, he brought them to his lips and kissed them. “We’re not bringing this to any museum, Beckett.” “You can’t just keep it. It’s historically significant.” “I’m not going to keep it.” She shook her head slowly and then picked up speed. “You’re not thinking about doing what the note said, are you?” He didn’t deny it. “You can’t throw it back in the ocean! Be reasonable. This needs to be preserved for ages to come.” He brushed his thumb across her lower lip as he stared into her eyes. She’d told him once that she liked the past better than the present. The past was known. It was unchangeable, but the present and future had far too many variables. She’d hated not knowing what was coming—what the outcome of a situation would be. He suspected it had to do with the uncertainty surrounding her mother’s death— wondering if her mother would even be alive by the time she got home from school. The uncertainty of wondering if her father would ever return home to her and her siblings. “I have to, céadsearc.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he rushed ahead, not giving her a chance. “I believe this brought you to me again. Gave us a second chance.” She frowned, her hands on her hips. “The textile exhibit brought me here. Not a necklace and a mouldy note in a bottle.” “Was the Dublin exhibit scheduled when you left the States?” Shifting uncomfortably, she crossed her arms over her chest. “No.” “Was it a last minute invitation out of the blue?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you responsible for that?”

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“No. But something is.” He smoothed his hands over her shoulders and down the smooth skin of her arms. “I’ve wanted you to come back since I’d found out you’d left, but it wasn’t until I came across this bottle and its message that you agreed to set foot on the island again. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence.” Her struggle with the concept played across her features as she tried to make sense of his reasoning. He hated to do it to her, but she needed to know. “There’s more.” “Of course there is. Are you going to find me a unicorn to ride to see the King and Queen of Faery Land?” He smiled grimly. “Close.”

**** Beckett stared at the man she’d never stopped loving and worried that he’d completely lost his mind. “Look, I know you think I’m half a bubble off true, but I’m telling you the truth.” “That you’re taking me to Faery Land?” She couldn’t keep the shrillness from her voice. She would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, except she could tell he was completely serious. Just like he was serious about the necklace and the note. Granted, the invitation from the Dublin museum had come out of the blue. Usually these exhibits were arranged years in advance. It was unheard of in this business to make a last minute stop like this. A cold chill skated across the back of her neck as she couldn’t help but consider that Kieran may have a point about the necklace in the bottle. The idea was ridiculous. She was a woman of science—hard facts and empirical data. There was no room in her life for spells and mythical beings. She sighed. As a child, she used to believe in magic and looked for faeries at every opportunity. Memories came rushing back. Kieran. Even though her aunt insisted Kieran was wrong, he was the one who’d insisted there was no such thing as magic. Studying him, she advanced. “So you’re saying that I have to meet faeries?” His body taut with frustration, he dragged his hands through his hair and scrubbed at his scalp. “Yes,” he finally muttered. “The king in particular.” “Right.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “When?”

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“Midsummer Night’s Eve.” He watched her warily, clearly taken aback by her seeming change of heart. “Two days from now…at midnight.” “Uh-huh. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you who convinced me that looking for faeries was a waste of time? Weren’t you the one who insisted that I give up childish pastimes like peering under toadstools and chanting made-up spells?” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nodded. “That was me.” “And you’ve suddenly changed your belief system because…?” Taking her hand, he led her into the living room and sank onto couch, pulling her down to sit on his lap. She shifted so she could look into his eyes. “I didn’t change my belief system. I lied to you.” A sharp pang tightened her chest at his admission. “You lied to me?” “I didn’t want you to draw his attention.” “Whose?” Her stomach fluttered nervously. “The king’s?” “Yeah. Aodhan’s got a bad habit of seducing mortal women, and I thought if I could keep him from noticing you, we wouldn’t have to face what’s going to happen on the Solstice.” The nervous flutter transformed into a whirlpool of worry deep in the pit of her stomach. “Oh.” “The truth is, he doesn’t have to wait for the Solstice. He can appear in the mortal realm at will.” Kieran frowned and her nervousness increased exponentially. “In fact, he’s been here recently—shortly before you arrived. He wanted to let me know that he plans to make an example of us, and he expects the full summoning ceremony.” Summoning ceremony? “What’s going to happen, Kieran?” “I’m bound to him. I’m part Sidhe.” “Sidhe? Now you’re saying you’re a faery?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Either the love of her life was going stark raving mad, or she was going to need to seriously rethink her ideas about the natural order of things. She studied Kieran. He didn’t have the look of a madman. He was calm and rational. Well, as rational as one could be discussing the existence of mythical creatures. “Not full-blooded,” he finally answered. “My gram fell in love with one of the King’s Court. My mum is the result of that affair.”

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Beckett took a deep breath and tried to make sense of what he was telling her. It was ridiculous to even consider it, but a tiny part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible. He certainly seemed to believe it. “I tried to keep from falling in love with you. I tried so sodding hard.” He shook his head, his eyes soft with unnamed emotion. “But you tromped all over my good intentions. By the time you turned eighteen, I couldn’t fight it anymore. I gave in.” He gently tucked her hair behind her ear, stroking her neck as he dropped his hand back to her waist. “Do you remember when you said you saw the regret in my eyes when I asked you to marry me?” She nodded, her throat too thick to speak. “The regret wasn’t because I didn’t want to spend my life with you. It was because I knew the king would demand his tribute.” She swallowed hard as her fists tightened in her lap. “What’s his tribute?” He looked away, as if he couldn’t meet her gaze. “Me. You. A night with us.” She blinked rapidly, not sure she’d heard him correctly. This beat the bombshell about the note and the necklace all to hell. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? I’m supposed to be some kind of ritual sex sacrifice for this guy?” Nodding slowly, he finally met her eyes. “I’ll be with you.” “So, a threesome, then?” He nodded again and pinned her with his gaze. “Before you came back—before I held you in my arms again—I thought I could handle sharing you. But now…” Hadn’t she just wondered what it would be like with two guys? She couldn’t deny the way her pussy clenched with need at the thought. If Kieran slipped his hand inside her panties, he’d find them drenched. She pushed her longing away. She didn’t want anyone but Kieran. But he’d be with you the little voice in her head whispered. “What happens if I say no?” she asked. An expression of utter misery crossed his face. “Then I’d have to leave you.” “You’d dump me for not doing your long lost relative?” Anger made her voice sharp. “No! God, no!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. “I wouldn’t go because I wanted to. I’d be banished from the mortal realm.” A chunk of ice dropped into her stomach and it hurt to breathe.

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“I wanted to follow you back to Michigan—more than anything, but he laid a geis on me after you left. He cursed me to remain here until you returned.” She fought the impulse to wrap her arms around his neck. “Did he hurt you?” she demanded. A hard, short laugh shook his body. “Only when I tried to get to you.” Conflicting urges warred within her. She wanted to believe Kieran, but it all sounded like something out of a fairytale. Or the ravings of a lunatic. After everything that had happened today, she couldn’t believe she was adding contemplating a ménage to the list. “This is…I don’t know Kieran. I need to think.”

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Chapter Three

Beckett stood in the centre of a seven-pointed star within a circle in a grove of hawthorn trees and contemplated her sanity—or the serious lack thereof. Why in the hell had she let Tara talk her into this? Her friend had promised her that everything would be okay, but as the sounds of chanting and drumming grew louder, she wondered about Tara’s definition of the word. Peering at the people who surrounded the circle, she looked for Kieran. Supposedly he was here—unless this was just an elaborate joke at her expense. She didn’t recognise anyone other than her so-called friend. Of course, everyone wore hooded brown cloaks, making identification impossible. She tried to focus on the people and the words flowing around her. Maybe, if she could make sense of what they were saying, she could figure out exactly what to expect—other than a threesome with Kieran and the King of the Sidhe. Sighing, she realised they chanted in Gaelic. While she might know a few words and phrases, it wasn’t enough to get the details she needed. She wasn’t sure when she started buying into the idea that faeries actually existed. She wasn’t even sure she really had, but Tara had convinced her that Kieran needed her. So here she was—feeling like a freaking idiot. She shifted uncomfortably in the white, silky dress her friend had been adamant she wear. She was so not a dress person, but Tara had insisted that the king preferred a whole lot of pomp with his circumstance. She’d also confessed that she’d participated in the ritual herself, a few years earlier. She’d insisted that Beckett wouldn’t regret it, but that ship was about ready to sail. Regret loomed large on the horizon. Beckett wrapped her arms around herself and forced a sense of calmness she was far from feeling. Squinting, she searched the crowd for Kieran, willing him to appear. Over the last few days, she’d realised he was worth the risk to her heart. She’d never stopped loving him. The time and distance spent apart hadn’t done anything other than to make them both miserable. Protecting herself from the possibility of problems that had no basis in reality made no sense.

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A guy who stayed faithful for five years with no encouragement from her wasn’t going to abandon her when things got difficult. He was in it for the long haul and so was she. The realisation didn’t make her any less nervous when she thought about what would soon happen. As she looked again for Kieran, the figure of the star traced into the ground at her feet began to glow with an unearthly blue light, pulsing in time to the rhythm of the drums. Fear slipped like ice through her veins as the colour grew brighter. Panicking, she tried to cross the glowing line, but an invisible wall stopped her, making her skin tingle. This wasn’t possible. Her palms grew clammy and her breathing accelerated. The scent of heather and warm, country air filled her nostrils. From the corner of her eye, she saw the people around the circle join hands. Sure, Kieran and Tara had said faeries and magic existed, but until right this minute she hadn’t entirely believe either of them. Now, however, she was willing to consider it. Turning, she pounded her fists against the unseen barrier that surrounded her. “Kieran,” she called out, hating the way her voice shook. “Where are you?” She tried to swallow past the fear that choked her. Frightened tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, but she swiped them away. Tara drew back her hood and stepped away from the others. Raising a small silver knife that glinted in the moonlight, she moved closer to the glowing blue lines. Beckett’s stomach twisted. Wasn’t it supposed to a sexual sacrifice? This was looking like something else all together. In a low voice, Tara chanted counterpoint to the others, drawing arcane symbols in the air with the blade as she walked the circumference of the circle. The symbols hung suspended in midair, glowing with that same eerie light. Seven symbols—one for each point of the star. What did they mean? The drummers subtly shifted their rhythm, creating a more sinuous, seductive beat and the chanting grew quieter, but more intense. It was as if the words and the rhythm caressed Beckett, stroking her nerve endings. The throbbing beat was hypnotic...arousing, and despite her fear she began to sway in time to the music. The anxiety began to drift away. Was there such a thing as musically induced Stockholm Syndrome? She couldn’t look away from the man’s long tanned fingers pounding the head of the instrument. Something about his hands looked familiar, making her wish they were touching

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her rather than that damn drum. God, what was the matter with her? Where the hell was Kieran? Using her knife, Tara cut openings through the lines that held Beckett captive, sealing them behind her until she reached the centre. “What the hell is this, Tara?” she demanded. “Midsummer Night’s Eve.” A secretive smile curved Tara’s lips and her eyes danced with excitement. Looking towards the people around the circle, she gestured to one of the drummers. He reached up and drew back his hood, catching Beckett’s gaze. She caught her breath at the sharp flash of lust in his deep, green eyes. Kieran. Finally. Handing his drum to the man next to him, he rose gracefully to his feet and slipped off his robe. Beckett’s throat suddenly dry, she swallowed hard at the glorious expanse of his bare, muscled chest. His long, golden brown hair hung loose past his shoulders, and he looked more god than man. Despite the fact that she’d had him not more than a few days earlier, she wanted him now with a need bordering on desperation. Tara motioned him forward. He withdrew his own blade from the sheath at his belt and whispering an incantation, entered the circle much as Tara had. His low, seductive words penetrated Beckett’s body, intensifying the knot of longing in her womb. The accent made his gravelly voice that much sexier. She couldn’t wait to have him pounding into her again. Holding her gaze with heated intent, Kieran cut through the last of the magical boundaries. She wanted to plaster herself against him, breathe him in, take him inside her. Swallowing thickly, she watched as a wicked, toe-curling smile curved his lips. A hint of worry shadowed his eyes as he cupped her cheek and dropped a searching kiss on her upturned mouth. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he murmured against her lips. The heat rolled off his body enveloping her, and he settled his huge hands at her hips. His touch set off ripples of need through her body. It had only been two days without him, but it felt like years. She met his heated gaze. “I wasn’t sure I would either.” His eyes softened. “There’s time. You can still leave.” She knew what would happen if she made that choice. He’d be banished from the mortal realm and she’d never see him again. “I’m not going to lose you. Not now that I’m smart enough to figure out what you mean to me. I love you, Kieran.”

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He opened his mouth to speak, but she laid her finger across his lips. “As long as you’re with me, it doesn’t matter.” She quirked a smile at him. “Besides, it might be…” She let the sentence drift off unsure how he’d feel about her involuntary arousal. Desire twisted in her belly and her nipples hardened into near painful knots. The more she’d thought about sex with Kieran and another man, the more appealing it had become. His breath hissed through his clenched teeth, and his cock throbbed urgently against her belly. He slid his hands upward until his thumbs rested under the curve of her breasts. “It could be what?” he asked. Unable to form a coherent thought, she tried to slow her rapid inhalations. “Hot?” she choked out. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he drew her closer, his thumbs stroking the underside of her breasts. A shiver snaked through her at the sensation of his callused skin catching on the soft silk. “You’re mine, Beckett.” The unmistakable promise of sexual fulfilment glinted in his eyes. “You’ve always been mine.” His eyes hardened, and he frowned. “But not mine alone—at least, not tonight.” Her tongue darted out, moistening her suddenly dry lips. With the hunger of a starving man, he followed the motion with his darkening eyes. “But you’re right.” He heaved a huge sigh, bright slashes of colour high on his cheeks. “Jesus, Beckett, I don’t want to share you, but I can’t help but think of how hot it’s going to be to have you spread between both of us. How good we can make you feel.” Slowly, he lowered his face to hers, and his warm breath coasted over her skin before he finally closed the distance between their lips. He took her mouth with a hot, needy kiss—as if he had all the time in the world to taste her—as if they weren’t surrounded by a group of people avidly watching them. Recalling their audience, she stiffened in his embrace, but he seduced the thought away with the touch of his work-roughened hands. He circled her nipples with his thumbs, swallowing her groan as she trembled beneath his touch. Splaying his hand through her hair, he cupped the back of her head and angled her nearer as he devoured her. She clutched at his bare shoulders, and he groaned as she opened beneath his fevered kiss. She couldn’t get enough of him—not two days ago and certainly not now.

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He stroked her tongue, the inside of her mouth, all the while tightening his grip on her hair and pressing her against his unyielding body. Trailing his lips along her jaw, he moved to her neck, slipped his hand into the deep V of her dress and cupped her aching breast. Her nipple peaked into his palm, and he plucked at it, drawing a whimper from her. He smiled against her skin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. “I can’t wait to spread your legs and bury my face in your pussy.” A fresh rush of moisture soaked her panties, and she wondered why she’d bothered to put any on tonight. “But,” he continued, “I may have to fight with Aodhan for the pleasure.” He growled against her neck. Her body clenched at the sound of his desire-coarsened voice. God, she wanted him inside her. Now. At this point, she didn’t even care that friends and complete strangers watched them. From the hazy edges of her awareness, she felt Tara draw near. “We must begin, the moon grows old.” Reluctantly, Kieran lifted his head and mouthed the word mine. Releasing his hold on her, he stepped behind her, his erection prodding her backside and his chin resting on the top of her head. Tara trailed her fingers through Beckett’s hair much like a lover would. Was Tara coming on to her now? More importantly, did she care? Tara took Beckett’s left hand in her own and rubbed it sensuously. “Just relax,” she murmured, stroking her skin. Beckett felt her body go slack against Kieran’s as she allowed his nearness and Tara’s touch to cloud her thinking. Without warning a searing pain cut across her palm. Beckett’s eyes snapped open to see blood—her blood—dripping from Tara’s knife and her own hand. “What the hell?” When she would have pulled away, Kieran locked his arms around her, keeping her securely in place. “Trust me,” Tara whispered. “You’re about to experience something few mortals ever even dream of.” With that she closed her hands over Beckett’s and squeezed ruthlessly until blood dripped steadily on the ground between them. Beckett followed the droplets of blood as they soaked into the earth while Tara continued to squeeze. The ground at their feet began to shift and surge. Dirt rolled in waves

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where her blood had been spilled. Heart in her throat, she pressed against Kieran, but he refused to budge. “What’s happening?” she gasped. No one answered. Keeping one bare arm wrapped around her waist, he pinioned her to his chest. He extended his other arm past her body towards Tara. She grabbed his hand and opened his palm with the still bloody blade. Making a fist, he squeezed so hard his arm shook with the effort. Beckett watched in sick fascination as Kieran’s blood dripped onto the roiling earth at their feet. She hardly noticed when Tara left them alone in the circle. However, if the churning dirt were any indication, they wouldn’t be alone for long. Grass fell aside as the dirt and clay meshed together rising up as if the earth was expelling an impurity. In a matter moments, the mass loomed over her—it was nearly as tall and broad as Kieran. She tried to swallow past the rock that apparently lodged itself in her throat. Torn between the need to scream and rapt attention, she froze in place watching as the mass of earth took the shape of a man. An eerie golden light emanated from within, pulsing in time to her pounding heart. Beckett’s breathing quickened as her panic rose. She had to get the hell out of here—as far away from this freak show as humanly possible. Thrashing in Kieran’s arms, she tried to break his hold on her. He tightened his grip, murmuring soothing sounds in her ear. It didn’t help. Tensing her arm, she ploughed her elbow backward into his rock hard stomach. He grunted, and his hold loosened enough for her to scramble away and throw herself against the glowing blue barrier. Energy raced over her skin as she slammed into it again and again. It wouldn’t give. Desperately, she made a grab for the knife at Kieran’s waist. He grasped her arm and twisted it behind her, locking his forearm over her chest and immobilising her against his body. “Calm down, Beckett. It’s okay.” The sound of Kieran’s voice might have soothed her at any other time, but not now. “No, it’s not okay! How can you say that? It’s not even remotely close to okay!” She struggled harder, her head slamming backward against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he soothed.

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She waved her bloody hand in the air. “Clearly, I’m imagining this painful knife wound, then. And I—” Movement her caught her attention. The dirt fell away in clumps from the figure before her to reveal a pale, perfectly sculpted man. A perfectly sculpted, perfectly naked man. His skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, and his long inky hair flowed nearly to his waist. “Holy shit,” she whispered. Kieran stilled behind her, but he hadn’t loosened his hold. She stared at the man who’d materialised before her eyes. If not for his pointed ears— not to mention the fact that he’d risen from the ground at her feet—she would have thought him human. Violent tremors shook her body. Even if Kieran released her, she wouldn’t have been able to move. Other than her harsh, gasping breaths, the night was silent. She watched the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he took slow, measured breaths. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and she stood transfixed. Awash in a swirl of colours, it seemed the entire universe existed in his irises. Constellations collided in a night sky while brilliant autumn leaves blew across a windswept lake. The effect was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, she felt like she teetered at the top of a rocky cliff. Only Kieran’s arms around her kept her from sinking to the ground. “Beckett. You’ve been too long from these shores.” The soothing sound of the man’s voice steadied her, until she realised he spoke telepathically. “Not long enough,” she muttered. Be careful what you wish for, she told herself, you just might get it. Her childhood dreams had come true. She was staring at a freaking faery. We prefer Sidhe. His voice was an amused chuckle inside her head. And he could read her mind. Wasn’t that just great. Curiosity got the best of her as she continued to stare at him. “I am Aodhan, King of the Sidhe.” He radiated a sense of peaceful quietness that calmed her strained nerves. He frowned slightly. “You’ve kept me waiting a long time for what is mine.” Before she could answer, he lifted her hand and turned her palm upward. His touch was even more comforting than his voice. Gently, he traced a spiral over the bloodied flesh. As she watched, the blood vanished and her skin knit together, leaving nothing more than a faint scar.

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After he did the same to Kieran, he raised his hand, and the area around the circle shimmered and changed. The hawthorn trees bent towards each other and wove together. As she watched, the branches formed a bed draped in rich, green and gold silks. Beckett tilted her head to the side. The bed vanished, the trees righted themselves and the fabric looked more like leaves by the moment. She blinked again and the bed seemed to occupy the same space as the grove of trees. “Is that real?” she whispered, awed. She would have thought she’d moved beyond the capacity of shock, but apparently not. Kieran leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “On nights like tonight, the faery and mortal realms are coterminous.” “Right,” she snapped. “That clears it all up.” “The planes are crossing. Both worlds are visible to those who look.” She peered past the perimeter of the circle. For a moment, she could see Tara and then she was gone—replaced by a group of ethereal looking people—some of whom had wings. Caught between wonder and fear, she stared, trying to take in the shifting scene before her. Kieran’s hands fell heavy on her shoulders as Aodhan moved closer. The king reached out and trailed a finger along the deep neckline of the ridiculous dress she wore. Shivers raced across her skin at his touch and Kieran stiffened behind her. “You don’t wish to share your woman with me,” the king finally spoke, addressing Kieran, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I don’t wish to share her with anyone,” Kieran corrected. “But tonight isn’t about choices, is it?” Aodhan didn’t answer, he stared at Beckett as if he could strip her with his eyes. Who knew, maybe he could. For a moment, she worried that they would fight over her. Kieran stroked his hands over her shoulders and up and down her arms, while Aodhan stepped closer. It was actually going to happen. She was about to be smack in the middle of a threesome. With a freaking audience, no less. She squeezed her thighs together to quell the throbbing ache. “This is probably a really bad idea,” she whispered. Aodhan grinned. “If it’s such a bad idea, why are your nipples hard and begging for attention?”

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She glanced down at her traitorous breasts. Her nipples poked sharply against the gossamer fabric. “Oh no,” she muttered. Kieran settled his hands at her waist. “Your body isn’t saying no.” “My body should be ignored. It has a terrible sense of self-preservation.” He chuckled, his lips at her ear. “I know I said I didn’t want to share you, but you have no idea how arousing it is to see you trapped between our bodies, his gaze devouring you, desperate to taste you.” His erection pushed insistently against her bottom as he spoke. “I think he’s craving you as badly as I am.” Sliding his hands forward, he cupped the sides of her breasts and brushed his fingers across her nipples. “I don’t think ignoring your body is the answer.” She couldn’t keep the whimper of need from escaping. In response, Kieran thrust lightly against her ass, his hard length pulling on the fabric that covered her. The heat in the other man’s eyes was unmistakable, and his cock began to swell as he leaned forward and took her mouth in a searing kiss, feasting on her mouth. He tasted of vanilla and spice, and she felt giddy—almost drunk off the flavour. He pressed his full weight to her and his cock was trapped between them—hot, hard, throbbing against the softness of her belly. Just as quickly, he left her lips and began trailing open-mouthed kisses between the valley of her breasts and then up along her neck. With purposeful movements, he slid the dress’ tiny shoulder straps off and down her arms, completely baring her breasts. The cool night air kissed her flesh and pebbled her nipples farther. Aching to be touched, she raised her eyes to meet his and she was lost. Lost to the night sky in those fathomless depths. Aodhan cupped her breasts. His hands felt so good on her body, she pressed her lips together to keep from groaning aloud. His touch was drugging. Was that even possible? He’d emerged out of the ground—anything was possible at this point. She leaned back against Kieran’s chest arching into the king’s caress. “That’s it, Beckett,” he murmured. “Relax.” Aodhan twisted and pinched her nipples as Kieran cupped her breasts, pushing them forward. The other man took the hint and drew a distended peak into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the aching nub before sucking hard. Unable to remain still, she drove her fingers through his hair and held his head at her breast. “More,” she demanded, her voice a strangled whisper. “Harder.”

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“Christ,” Kieran breathed in her ear as he loosened the closure on her dress and eased it from her, letting the fabric puddle on the ground around her feet. Pushing his hand between her body and Aodhan’s, he cupped her mound through her panties and she rocked against him. “You’ve soaked these,” he groaned. He brought his damp fingers to his mouth to suck her essence from them, and she nearly came from the sight. He slid his hand down her body, and shoved his hand into her panties. Parting her dripping folds, he stroked her, causing her to writhe with need. Far too soon, he pulled his glistening hand from her pussy and held it out to Aodhan. “Taste her,” he growled. Beckett whimpered as the king gripped Kieran’s wrist and pulled his fingers into his mouth on a groan. Aodhan’s eyes closed as he sucked her juices from her lover’s fingers. She’d never seen anything more erotic. Arousal shook her and as she watched the men, fresh cream dripped down the inside of her thighs. “More,” the king demanded. Kieran fisted his hand in her flimsy underwear and tore them from her body, letting them flutter to the ground. Reaching in front of her, he spread her wide, exposing her wet pussy to everyone there. It should have horrified her, but instead she rubbed her ass against his erection, wishing he was buried inside her already. Reaching behind her, she unfastened his pants and freed his erection, shuddering as his hot, silky shaft brushed her ass and the small of her back. Aodhan dropped to his knees and licked her dripping juices from her thighs, groaning as he tasted her. She tried to thrust against him, to hurry him along with it, but Kieran held her helpless against his now bare cock. Distantly, she could hear the muted sounds of voices from the surrounding crowd. She had no idea if they were from the faery contingent or the people who’d begun the ritual, but aroused cries and the wet sounds of sex reached her ears as the king edged ever closer to her needy pussy. Kieran stroked her folds as he held her wide, both of them watching as Aodhan finally reached his destination. Flattening his tongue, he dragged it along her cleft, and she screamed at the sensation. She shivered as the sound of her cry split the night.

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Both men groaned and Kieran whispered in her ear. “Watching him go down on you has got to be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.” Kieran thrust his cock against her ass. “Come for him,” he demanded. “Come for us both.” Aodhan circled her clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips and scraping his teeth across it. He stroked her labia, circling her opening with the tips of his fingers while she trembled between them. Finally, he slid a finger inside her greedy passage and quickly added another. “So sweet and tight,” he whispered into her head as he slid his fingers in and out of her pussy and sucked on her clit. “I can’t wait to fill you with my cock—to watch your lover fill you— to take you together.” “We’re both going to fill you céadsearc,” Kieran said, echoing the other man. He slid his hands up her belly to torment her nipples with his damp fingers. Pulling and twisting, he continued to murmur in her ear. “Your mouth. Your cunt. Your ass. We’re going to fuck you until you can’t remember what it’s like to not have us pounding in and out of you.” His whispered words along with Aodhan’s mouth and fingers sent her over the edge. Release flooded her body, a rush of dizzying pleasure shooting along her limbs as she stiffened between them, begging for more. Bring her. Kieran kicked off the rest of his clothes, swung her into his arms and followed Aodhan to the hawthorn bower. “I promise,” he rasped, his voice husky with desire. “It’ll be so fucking good.” The hawthorn bed seemed to move, to adjust itself to their bodies. She’d never laid on anything so comfortable in her life. The leaf green bedding was softer than anything she’d ever before felt—a cross between rose petals and silk—a decadent sensation on her skin. Kieran situated himself behind her back as the bed morphed to accommodate their movement. Half sitting, half reclining, he slid his hands under her thighs. Lifting her legs, he draped them over the top of his, spreading her to Aodhan’s gaze. “Fill her,” the king demanded. “I’m going to lick her cunt while you fuck her.” Beckett whimpered as Kieran lifted her again and slid his thick cock into her empty pussy. He stretched her sensitive tissues as he slowly tunnelled farther in. He pulled her back to lay against his chest while the other man knelt between their spread legs.

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Kieran slid his hands over her hips and down between her legs, to stroke her weeping folds and his own cock as he worked in and out of her. His ragged breath tightened her womb with anticipation. As Aodhan moved closer, Kieran spread her lips wide, and she watched in fascination as the king lowered his head to her mound. Replacing her lover’s hands with his own, he touched just the tip of his tongue to her quivering flesh and she squirmed as she tried to get closer. “Your cunt is so beautiful. Pink and puffy—like you’ve been fucked recently. Have you, sweet Beckett? Have you let him pound into your tender pussy?” His words crept into her head, a seductive whisper that twined around her senses, heightening her arousal, making her writhe and cry out. Her juices flooded Kieran’s cock and Aodhan’s mouth as he continued to lap at her, whispering into her head. “I love watching you grip him, trying to keep from pulling free—trying to keep him deep inside you.” He traced the spot where she and Kieran were joined, his finger caressing her pussy and Kieran’s cock. Beneath her, Kieran shuddered at the contact as Aodhan stroked their melded flesh. Unable to look away, she watched him rub her lover’s cock, urging it deeper inside of her. Kieran reached around and cupped her breasts. Twisting her nipples, he pulled at them as he continued to shove into her. “There’s something so thrilling...so primal about watching a thick cock stretch such a tight little cunt. Will you grip me that hard, I wonder? Will you scream for me the way you scream for him?” Kieran drove upward as Aodhan latched onto her clit, sucking hard. The release that had threatened since Kieran ploughed into her pussy, trembled through her body pushing her down the rough slope of completion. She contracted around Kieran milking him until he groaned against her back and spilled hot and heavy inside her. Aodhan rose to his knees and brushed the round, damp head of his cock across the seam of her lips. Reaching out she gripped him and stroked the thick length of his shaft as he slid between her lips, sliding across her tongue and down her throat. “I’m going to take every part of you, sweet Beckett. Your mouth…your cunt…your ass.” She whimpered as he pumped in and out, filling her mouth the way Kieran filled her pussy. She pushed into his thrusts, groaning around the cock in her mouth, barely able to believe she was actually in bed with two men. A fresh rush of moisture dampened her pussy

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as she ground her hips against Kieran’s. Call it what it is, Beckett, she told herself firmly. You’re fucking two men.

Kieran watched Aodhan’s cock fucking in and out of Beckett’s mouth. The jealousy and unwillingness to share still lurked within him, but now it mixed with something deeper— something darker. Some primal part of his psyche was turned on by the sight of his woman taking another man, pleasuring him. Despite the fact that he’d just come, his cock was still hard. Whispering in her ear, he urged her to her hands and knees. She continued going down on the other man, and his dick twitched remembering the feel of her mouth and tongue. With agonizing slowness, he dragged the head of his cock along her dripping cleft, taking special care to rub it back and forth across her swollen clit. She cried out as he tormented her. God, he loved the way she writhed against him, loved the way she moaned. Who was he kidding? He loved everything about her. Unable to wait another minute to be inside her, he sank into her slick heat again. Her cunt rippled around him as he shoved forward. His vision went black around the edges as he seated himself to the balls. She squeezed him, pulsing around him as he surged forward again and again finding a rhythm with the other man as together they shafted her. “She’s beautiful, your woman. Warm and tight. So responsive.” Aodhan thrust into Beckett’s mouth again. “I want more.” Pulling free of her mouth, he bent and whispered in her ear while Kieran dragged himself from the warmth of her body. The other man moved behind her to take his place. “She’s waiting for your cock. She wants to take you into her mouth.” Kieran’s gut tightened. He wasn’t sure how much more sharing he could take, but as he watched the king’s cock slide into her swollen cunt, he nearly dropped to his knees. He had no idea how erotic it would be to see another man fucking Beckett. Her fists clenched in the bedding as the other man repeatedly plunged his wide cock into her pretty pink pussy. Kieran groaned aloud as he watched her stretch to accommodate Aohdan. He’d never felt anything better than being buried balls-deep inside Beckett’s cunt, but he had to admit the sight of the other man slamming into her had his balls drawn up tight. “Kieran,” Beckett called. “I need you.”

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Making his way to the other side of the bed, he knelt in front of her. She opened her mouth and guided his erection inside, sucking him hard and deep. She licked off their combined releases making him ache to come again. Tangling his hand in her silky hair, he guided her movements as she worked his length. Every little mewling groan she made, hummed over his skin until he thought he’d go mad. Aodhan shafted her harder, and Kieran felt every stroke vibrate though her body. He glanced at the other man in time to see him dipping his fingers into her sopping pussy and rubbing the moisture into the crinkled bud of her anus. She bucked and shrieked around Kieran’s cock as the other man began working a finger in and out of the tight hole. As she grew accustomed to the invasion, he added another, working at her, stretching her. “Her cunt is just as glorious as I knew it would be.” Aodhan’s words whispered insidiously into his mind and try though he did, he couldn’t ignore them. He couldn’t ignore the dark excitement that spiked through him every time the other man spoke of her. “After I fill her pussy, I’ll take her ass and we’ll fuck her together.” Kieran’s cock jerked at the thought of Beckett sandwiched between them as they both pummelled her willing body. The other man added a third finger to the ones in her ass. She stiffened, releasing his cock and screaming out her orgasm. Aodhan lost the battle and thrust once more before spraying into her channel on a ragged groan.

Beckett’s arms shook with exhaustion. She wasn’t sure how much more she could handle. Kieran slid beneath her and carefully urged her down on top of him. She couldn’t quite meet his gaze knowing how he felt about sharing her. It was even worse because she’d been enjoying it—enjoying the sensation of two sets of hands, two mouths, two cocks filling her, bringing her such pleasure. Gently, he brushed the hair from her face and urged her to look into his eyes. “Céadsearc,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful. The way you take us both…” He swallowed hard. “It’s amazing,” he finished, his voice ragged, his brogue dark and heavy. Unbelievably, her pussy convulsed a little as the sound of his voice. Even after all this, she wanted more. Shame made her look away. She should only want Kieran. He was the one

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she loved. And yet when she thought about Aodhan’s promise to take her ass, she couldn’t suppress the shiver of desire that riffled through her. As if he sensed her thoughts, she felt him again at her entrance, spreading the wet warmth of what could only be their combined releases, prepping her for his possession. Kieran turned her back to face him. “I love you. And I love that you’re doing this for me.” Beckett started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, but the laugh turned into a moan as Aodhan scissored his fingers, spreading her ass. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she moaned as she ground herself against Kieran’s rigid cock, “but it’s not exactly a hardship.” He took her mouth in a slow, searching kiss. When he released her lips, he whispered, “I can’t believe how hot it makes me to watch him drill you.” Her pussy quivered with need. Bracing her hands on his chest, she slid backward and took his cock into her body. His thick heat slid through the liquid evidence of the releases that had filled her so far tonight. It felt wicked to take her lover while her sheath was filled with another man’s cum, but it didn’t seem to bother Kieran…and it obviously hadn’t bothered Aodhan. She glanced over her shoulder at him. He gathered the moisture dripping from her and coated his cock with their fluids and did the same to her ass. Release coiled in her womb at the decadent sensuality of the act. At this rate, it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge. Settling his hand on the small of her back, he stilled her motion and placed the head of his cock at her tight ring of muscles. Slowly, he pressed forward, spreading her untried muscles. Beckett bit her lip at the sharp flare of pain that radiated outward from where he worked to penetrate her. “Breathe, céadsearc. Just breathe through the pain. This is going to be so good. I promise.” “Relax, sweet Beckett. Soon there will be only pleasure for you.” She exhaled as the head of Aodhan’s cock passed that tight ring of muscles and pressed farther into her virgin territory. Inch by snug inch, he pushed deeper. The burn of him filling her ass and Kieran buried in her pussy was almost too much. Finally, he was in.

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Stretched and filled she began to writhe against them, but Aodhan gripped her hips, stilling her motion. “Let us,” he murmured. Kieran pulled back while the other man pushed forward. They took turns filling her body, one driving in while the other withdrew. The friction was delicious and barely tolerable. She wanted to get away and at the same time she wanted more. Their cocks slid together inside her at counterpoint to one another as they slammed home over and over. What had started out as a careful alternating rhythm had become frantic and hungry. Her clit ground against Kieran’s pelvis as the men fucked her with a greedy kind of urgency, their balls slapping wetly against her. The knot of desire in her womb sent tentative spirals outward, and she knew her climax was nearing, but she didn’t want to go off until they did. She wanted to be aware of every hot splash of semen filling her as each man lost control. Their rasping breaths and grunted curses drove her need higher as she squeezed their cocks, begging for more. Kieran slid his hands along her body and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling them apart and purposely exposing her to Aodhan’s gaze. She’d never felt so naked in her life. And she loved it. “I wish you could see what I see,” the king grated. “Both of us coated with your juices, thrusting into your willing flesh.” Kieran began to shake as he fucked her faster, pounding into her. Her internal muscles clutched at him, fluttering around his shaft while her ass did the same to the other man. Aodhan broke first, spilling inside her in hot gushes of fluid that pushed her over the edge. Her womb spasmed and lights exploded behind her closed eyes as she registered Kieran spurting thickly inside her. Electricity travelled throughout her body as the force of her release shook her. Aftershocks trembled through her and her blood thundered in her ears as they tried to catch their breath. At length, she became aware of both men stroking her skin and murmuring softly to her, but she couldn’t make out the words or even what language they spoke. She was so tired.

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**** Beckett woke the next morning, curled in Kieran’s arms. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what happened the night before. She remembered the sex. Oh, did she ever remember the sex. The entire encounter was burned into her memory for the rest of her life. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the rest. She had a dim recollection of them pulling from her body and being carried to a warm pool of water. Vaguely, she recalled floating in the heated water while Kieran and Aodhan tenderly cleaned her body and massaged her tired muscles. She didn’t remember the trip back to the hawthorn bed, but obviously they’d made it back here. Opening her eyes, she met Kieran’s bright green gaze looking down at her. “Hey,” she whispered. Her throat was a little raw. A result of all the screaming the night before, she supposed. “Good morning.” Lowering his head, he took her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. Blinking, she looked around. Their clothes were neatly folded on the corner of the bed, but Aodhan was nowhere in sight. Neither was anyone else. The wooded grove was empty save for the birds and a few curious squirrels. If not for the fact that she and Kieran were naked in the forest and the various aches throughout her body, she might think last night never happened. Struggling to a sitting position, she winced. Kieran sat up and put his arm around her. “Are you okay?” “Just a little achy.” His eyes clouded with concern. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not.” She glanced away as her cheeks heated. In the light of day, it was hard to believe that she’d behaved so wantonly—especially in front of people. He raised her chin and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Good. Me neither.” Laughing, she gingerly scooted to the edge of the bed and tossed Kieran’s clothes to him and slipped her flimsy white dress over her head. The silk slid sensuously over her skin as she watched him pull his clothes on, covering up his tightly muscled body. She planned to get them off again, as soon as possible. When they were both dressed, he offered her his hand and helped her rise. Behind her, a burst of wind caught the skirt of her dress. As she turned to look, the trees that formed the bed straightened and the blankets spun into a swirling pile of green and gold leaves and

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vanished. In place of their bower stood Aodhan with an icily beautiful blonde woman wearing a crown of what looked like dewdrop shaped crystals. Behind her were several males in varying stages of undress. Despite the fact that they’d appeared to her and Kieran, she couldn’t help but feel like they’d interrupted something. Aodhan stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Good morn to you, sweet Beckett. You and your man are welcome in my bed whenever you desire it.” Beckett wasn’t sure she’d survive another go-round, but it was nice to know they had the option if they wanted it. Moving to Kieran the king nodded. “Your geis is lifted, Kieran Brennan. You’re free to leave the isle and lay with any woman you choose.” The curse had kept him faithful? Realisation trickled through her awareness like ice water. He didn’t really want her. She’d been his only option. Beckett’s stomach plummeted to her feet and she thought she might be sick. Everything he’d told her had been a lie. He’d said he loved her—said she was the only one he’d ever wanted. Everything they’d shared had been a lie. She’d been an idiot to believe him. Cold fingers squeezed her heart and the pain she thought she’d never feel again washed over her. It was all clear now. Kieran hadn’t stayed faithful to her because he’d wanted to. He’d had to. It was part of the curse. It hadn’t been love when he’d seen her. It had been desperation. She was a fool. A stupid, hopelessly-in-love fool. Turning, she ran blindly from the woods. “Beckett!” Kieran’s footsteps pounded behind her, but she kept running—dodging fallen logs and whip-like branches. Her lungs burned from lack of air, but she barely felt the tears streaming down her face as she broke through the clearing. “Beckett, stop!” She couldn’t believe she actually thought he’d waited for her. Well, he had—but not by choice. She stopped, but only because she found herself in Kieran’s front yard with nowhere left to run. She whirled around to face him. “You got what you wanted. I whored myself out so you can fuck whoever you want. So get to it. Got anyone special in mind?” “It’s not like that.”

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She crossed her arms over her chest. “Time’s a wasting, lover. You’ve got pussy to plough from here to Dublin. Hell...London...New York. You can go where ever you want now, and fuck to your heart’s content.” Her stomach twisted in pain, but it was nothing compared to the agony in her chest— the hole where her heart used to be. She couldn’t believe she bought his bullshit about waiting for her. Being in love with her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her still. “I never stopped loving you. Never.” His chest heaved and his eyes were filled with anguish. “Even though you refused to see me. Refused to take my calls. Refused to even let me know how you were. I had to beg for information from Tara and your aunt to have any news of you at all.” Her soul ached at the pain in his gaze, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t do more than stare at him. “Yeah, there were nights that I wanted someone—anyone—just to ease the pain of being separated from you. Even if it only helped for a little while.” As he spoke, he backed her against the house. “But in the end, it wasn’t the curse that kept me faithful to you.” His gaze softened and he cupped her cheek. “It was you.” Her breath caught in her throat and fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “I knew we’d be together again. Didn’t think it would take five sodding years,” he muttered, a hint of a smile quirking his lips. “But I knew we’d be together.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Why would I trash the best thing I’ve ever had? Why would I ruin a future with you?” Beckett swallowed hard and tried to make sense of her roiling emotions. Besides the crushing guilt at leaving him without a word, there was the debilitating fear that he’d leave her when she needed him most. But hadn’t he just proved that he wouldn’t? He’d been in hell for the last five years—because of her. And he still wanted her. Only her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, swiping at her eyes. His face fell as if he’d heard what he dreaded most and he released his hold on her. Before he could move away from her, she grabbed his hand. “Hang on. I’m not done.” He waited, a mask of stone hiding his emotions.

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“I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not trusting you. I’m sorry because I can’t think of a single thing I’ve done to deserve you.” She bit her lip and took his other hand. “Mostly I’m sorry I hurt you.” He didn’t speak, just brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “Will you forgive me?” she asked. His eyes softened as he pulled her into his arms. “Are you ever going put me through that kind of hell again?” She shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His entire body relaxed against her at her response and held her tighter. “Tá mo chroí istigh ionat,” he murmured into her hair. She recognised the word for heart and you but not much else. Pulling back slightly, she looked at him questioningly. “It means my heart is within you.” Fragile happiness bloomed within her. She’d been such a moron, doubting him like she had. Her mistrust and fears almost cost her the one person who mattered most. “I need you to answer a question.” Worry trembled through her middle. “Okay.” “Marry me?” Before she could respond, he added, “I don’t care where we live. I just want to be with you.” She nodded, not quite able to believe it. “I’d like to stay here,” she choked out. His eyes brightened like the sun after the rain. Lowering his mouth, he brushed his lips across hers nipping and teasing—gently coaxing them apart. He slipped his tongue inside and tasted her, thoroughly exploring her mouth. Frissions of need streaked through her belly as she pressed herself against him, unable to believe she was ready for him after the night before. She stared into his eyes as he raised his head. “Let’s go inside,” she murmured. “We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.” He smiled. “First, we need to do something else. Put this on.” He handed her the spare bike helmet and dashed into the cottage, returning with a backpack. Handing it to her, he put on his own helmet, got on the bike and motioned for her to do the same. Beckett climbed on the motorcycle behind him and hung on as they travelled the winding roads down to the seaside. The salty bite of ocean air filled her nostrils as they drew closer to the shore.

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Kieran followed a winding road down to the beach and parked the bike. He got off and stretched, peering out to sea. With a sudden pinch of dread, she knew why they were here. “Hand me the rucksack, will you?” “You’re not really…” He nodded. “And you’re going to help me.” Shaking her head, she groaned and passed him the bag. “I’m pretty sure this is a crime against museum curators everywhere.” Removing the bottle, he hung the backpack on the handlebar and looked at her, his expression suddenly serious. “If this charm brings someone even a fraction of the happiness it’s brought me, then it’s worth the risk of losing it to time.” A lump closed her throat. She was happier and more contented than she ever remembered being. Even though every fibre of her being strained against it, the opportunity to share that with someone else was more important than locking it away in a museum forever. She swallowed past the lump. “Let’s do it.” A brilliant smile lit his face and her tummy flipped at the sight of it. “I love you céadsearc. You know that, don’t you?” She nodded, her heart too full to speak, but she forced herself. “I love you, too.” Taking his hand, she pulled him towards the stony shore. “Let’s get this over with.” “Before you change your mind?” “Exactly,” she laughed. Kieran removed the necklace and carefully placed it into the bottle and replaced the stopper. Wading into waist deep water, he drew back his arm and heaved the bottle as far out to sea as he could. The bottle tumbled end over end glinting in the late morning sun before landing with a splash and bobbing in the waves. Ambling back to her, and pulled her back to his front, locking his arms around her. Together, they watched the bottle grow smaller as it drifted farther out into the ocean. As it disappeared from sight, he nuzzled her neck and his cock grew hard against her ass. “I believe you mentioned something about lost time?” Her nipples pebbled at the rough brogue colouring his voice, and she turned in his arms. Backing her further into the water, he dragged her skirt upward, baring her legs. She shivered as the chilly ocean water crept up her thighs followed by his hand.

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Splaying his other hand through her hair, Kieran lowered his head, his bright eyes darkening as he moved closer. He captured her mouth and delved inside, stroking and drawing on her tongue. She melted against him, pulling him more tightly to her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. They’d come full circle. Their bodies rocked in time with the gentle waves that carried them towards their future as those same waves carried away the magic that had brought them together again.

About the Author I live in Michigan with my wonderful husband, two amazing sons and five somewhat psychotic cats. When not tormenting my characters, I can usually be found helping with reading, writing and art projects in my sons’ classrooms as well as providing child care and tutoring for several daycare children. Besides writing, I also enjoy reading, knitting, sewing, cross stitching, pottery, drawing, jewellery making – basically anything that helps me avoid cooking and cleaning. Email: [email protected]

Bronwyn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Bronwyn Green Camouflaged Hearts: From the Ruins Celtic Fire: Solstice Seduction

HEALING DOCTOR RYAN Carol Lynne

Dedication To Cory and Elven. Thanks for the inspiration.

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Chapter One

Sitting practically naked on an exam table waiting for his doctor was not Ian Fitzgerald’s idea of a good time, especially when he got a stiffy whenever his very qualified oncologist stepped into the room. As he swung his legs back and forth, he tried to talk to his unruly cock. “Now, Dr. Ryan really doesn’t need you to sit up and take notice every time you hear that deep voice of his. He’s a very busy man. Yes, I know, I’ve seen him look at you too, but maybe it’s just to make sure you’re feeling okay.” Ian gave his pet a quick stroke to soothe him. “Now, Dick, if you’re a good boy, I’ll play with you later.” The door opened suddenly and Ian’s face heated. Fuck, he hoped Doc hadn’t heard any of that. What would he think if he walked in on a twenty-eight-year-old man talking to his cock? Ian watched the top of Doc’s head as he studied a set of charts, Doc’s black curls shining in the overhead fluorescent lights. “How am I doing?” Ian asked, tugging his gown down below his knees. He was going to kill his uncooperative body. Hopefully, Doc wouldn’t notice if he kept his gown tented from his chest to his knees. Dr. Ryan looked up and smiled. Oh crap, that smile got to Ian every time. He sucked the saliva back into his mouth and waited. “The results look very promising. Your blood tests look good. Of course you’re due for another CAT scan in a month, but so far the surgery and chemotherapy seem to have taken care of the cancer. It’ll be a year next month, that’s a big milestone, congratulations.” “Thanks.” The clinical reminder of why he was here deflated his erection in seconds. Oh well, at least he wouldn’t embarrass himself again. “Why don’t you lie down and we’ll get to the exam,” Dr. Ryan said, putting down his folder. As Ian took his arms out of the utilitarian gown and uncovered his chest, Dr. Ryan seemed to be studying him. “What’s your exercise regime been like lately? I’m noticing a good build up in your upper body.”

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The doctor began palpitating Ian’s breasts looking for any sign the cancer had spread from his testicle to another part of his body. It was the reason he still had to have a CT scan every two months. When Dr. Ryan’s fingers brushed over his nipples they immediately pebbled and it took everything in Ian not to moan. “Ian?” Doc said, reminding him he hadn’t answered the question. “Oh, sorry. Um, I’ve been running three miles a day, I’m hoping to work back up to my pre-surgery five, but three’s good for now. I also lift a little. Not much, but I go into the gym once or twice a week. Been eating a lot better though, so that helps.” Those long fingered hands worked their way up to probe and examine Ian’s underarms and then the glands in his neck before moving back down to press on his stomach. “Even though you’re looking good, your weight is still down.” The oncologist looked him in the eye. “I’d like to see you gain about twenty pounds. I know you lost a lot during your chemotherapy treatments, but those are over. Time to get you back up to fighting weight.” A bark of laughter erupted from Ian’s throat. “Fighting weight, yeah right. What, the feather weight class?” “Well, right now I doubt you’d even qualify for that. I know you’re a small man by nature, but you really need to work hard at putting on weight,” Dr. Ryan said, uncovering Ian’s groin. Ian braced himself. This was always the hard part. Ian did his best to think about something else, while the doctor cupped his sac and examined the remaining testicle. Ian’s cock began to fill right on queue. He blushed and looked down at the erection bobbing against his stomach almost begging for attention. “Sorry,” Ian mumbled. Dr. Ryan looked him in the eyes and grinned. “Don’t be, it goes with the job. Even straight men get erections half the time when I get to this portion of the exam.” “Oh, I’m not…” Shit, well, there was nothing like coming out to your doctor while he held your nut sac in his hand. What was even more embarrassing was when he felt the doc’s warm fingers brush over his groin. “I still haven’t figured out why your hair hasn’t grown back down here. The hair on your head is growing back so nicely, but there’s not even fuzz down here. Have you talked to

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anyone about it? I haven’t seen this particular reaction to chemo before.” Dr. Ryan continued to stare at Ian’s bare groin, which made Dick very happy to be the centre of attention. Ian cleared his throat. “Um, well, actually, I have it waxed.” Dr. Ryan’s eyes went wide as he looked up from Ian’s groin. “Waxed? You didn’t do that before, did you?” The doctor turned red and shook his head. “Sorry, forget I asked that.” Running his hands through his very short auburn hair, Ian shrugged. “It’s okay. I found that I enjoyed the feeling of being smooth down there. When it started to grow back I got it waxed. It’s no big deal.” Dr. Ryan nodded and moved to examine the glands in his groin. Finally, flipping Ian’s hospital gown down, Dr. Ryan stepped back. “Everything appears to be normal.” “Yeah, if you could call having only one testicle normal,” Ian muttered sitting up. The oncologist sighed and sat back down on his black stool. “I know it takes some getting used to, but you’re actually very lucky. The scrotum is adjusting very nicely, and so far there’s no sign of reoccurrence.” Grabbing Ian’s chart from the counter, Dr. Ryan began writing. “So we’ll see you back here after your next CT scan, right?” Dr. Ryan looked Ian in the eyes. Ian felt his insides quiver as he returned the gaze. God, the man was gorgeous. Ian had even been through his crayon box to come up with just the right description of those eyes. He’d finally settled on a shade somewhere between denim and navy. Ian knew the long black lashes framed against the blue made them appear darker. He knew it was stupid, who the hell cared exactly what colour Dr. Ryan’s eyes were? But for some reason it was important to him. Without giving himself a chance to back down, Ian blurted out, “Would you like to grab some dinner?” Dr. Ryan seemed a little shocked before shaking his head. “Uh, no, sorry, I don’t date patients.” Well at least he hadn’t said he didn’t date men. Ian had suspected for several months that the good doctor played on his team, now that he had confirmation, he wouldn’t let up until he got what he wanted. “It’s just dinner, not a date. I still don’t know many people in Providence and thought it would be nice not to eat alone for a change.” Ian gave him his

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pitiful, lonely boy look. In reality he had a pretty good group of friends, but Dr. Ryan didn’t need to know that. The doctor looked at his watch and then back at Ian. “I have some paperwork I need to do before I can leave, but I’d be willing to meet you in an hour or so.” Ian could tell the good doctor was already kicking himself for agreeing to dinner. Ian knew he needed to firm things up and get the hell out of there before Dr. Ryan talked himself out of it. “How ’bout Jed’s Steakhouse? I’ve heard it’s really good but I haven’t had anyone to go with, before now.” Shifting from one foot to the other, Dr. Ryan sighed. “Okay, Jed’s in an hour. Of course you realise I could be called away on an emergency. It’s the life of a doctor.” “I know,” Ian stood, holding the gown to his groin, and retrieved his pants. After getting out his wallet, he handed Dr. Ryan one of his business cards. “I’ll be waiting, but if for some reason you can’t make it call my cell phone.” Dr. Ryan nodded and stuck the card in his shirt pocket. Before he could make it out the door, Ian spoke again. “I really hope you can make it, though.”

**** Ian tapped his knife on the linen tablecloth, and adjusted his tie. He’d been lucky he’d had a meeting that morning otherwise he would have had to go home and change. His normal work attire of blue jeans and a dress shirt had been replaced with a charcoal grey suit and red tie. Ian hated getting dressed up for presentations, but today it had worked in his favour. Glancing at the hostess station once more, Ian sighed. “He’s not coming,” he whispered to himself. His watch showed that it was an hour and a half since he’d left Dr. Ryan’s office, an hour and thirty minutes for Dr. Ryan to change his mind. Taking his cell phone off his belt, Ian looked at the display. Nope, he hadn’t got a call. Finishing his wine, he wiped his mouth and put his napkin on the table before digging out a twenty. He put the tip beside his empty glass and stood, defeated. Stopping by the hostess station, Ian offered his apologies that he wouldn’t be dining after all.

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Head down, he walked out the front door and towards the parking lot. When he looked around for his jeep, he noticed someone who looked an awful lot like Dr. Ryan sitting in a low-slung black sports car a couple of vehicles down from his. Walking up to the car, Ian stuck his hands in his pockets. Dr. Ryan had his head resting on the steering wheel and he appeared to be talking to himself. “I was just about to leave,” Ian said. Dr. Ryan’s head jerked up as he spun to look at Ian. “Ian.” “Yeah.” “I…uh…” Dr. Ryan sighed. “Oh hell, I’ve been caught.” He grinned. “I was arguing with myself about whether or not to come in.” “And had you decided?” Ian left his hands in his pockets but leaned one hip against the driver’s door. He didn’t look at Dr. Ryan, deciding the man obviously was embarrassed. “No,” Dr. Ryan said. “I hadn’t decided. I want to have dinner with you, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Doctors don’t usually socialise with their patients.” “Oh, well if that’s what’s stopping you consider yourself no longer my doctor. I’ll find a new oncologist this week.” Ian hated the thought of finding a new doctor, but the alternative was even worse. How could he continue to see Dr. Ryan in a professional setting knowing the way he was beginning to feel about him? Dr. Ryan reached out his car window and put his hand on Ian’s arm. “I can’t ask you to do that. It wouldn’t be fair for you to disrupt your treatment for one date.” “First of all, it’s my decision and secondly, who says it’s only going to be one date?” Ian finally looked in the window to meet Dr. Ryan’s eyes. “Look, Dr. Ryan, I like you, a lot. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year it’s that life is to be treasured. Now I live everyday to the fullest. Regrets are for the old and dying. I’m neither.” Dr. Ryan looked up at him for several moments. “My name’s Brannigan, you can call me Bran.” He looked around the parking lot. “So you feel like going in and having dinner?” Ian looked back at the restaurants entrance. “Not really in there. I’d be kinda embarrassed. How about finding something else?” “You like chilidogs?” Bran asked, grinning. “Who doesn’t, but it’s not really on the approved list of food the nutritionist gave me.” Ian smiled.

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“Well since I may not be your doctor anymore, Nancy won’t know. You want to get in or follow me?” Ian was tempted to crawl in the tiny space with Bran and never get out. “I’d better follow you. No sense you bringing me back to pick up my jeep.” “Okay.” Bran started his car and smiled, pretty white teeth sparkling. Ian dug his keys out of his pocket and jogged to his jeep. Pulling out of the parking lot behind Bran, he chuckled and looked down to his half-hard cock. “I may not be playing alone after all, Dick.”

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Chapter Two

Looking in his rear-view mirror, Bran made sure Ian kept up with him on the way to Charlie’s. It was a big step for him, agreeing to have dinner with an ex-patient. Bran had always kept his professional life separate from his personal one. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had a few nice looking patients over the years that would have probably jumped at the chance to go out with him. But it was considered unethical and Bran would never jeopardise his career for a quick lay. Oncologists were taught to have a good bedside manner, but they were also schooled in the art of detachment. It wasn’t easy getting to know a patient, caring about them, and then in many cases watching them die. Bran prayed he wouldn’t be sorry for meeting Ian socially, even if he was no longer his patient. The attraction had been there since the first day he stepped into the exam room and had come face to face with the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. Ian had a lot more hair back then, of course, but Bran liked the shorter style better anyway. Turning left onto Cleveland Avenue, Bran wondered what the hell he was doing. He liked Ian too much for a one-night stand, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet as far as a reoccurrence of his cancer. The last thing in the world he could do was watch Ian get sick again. Bran had already been tossing the thought of asking Ian to get another doctor to oversee his care. Now the subject had been broached by Ian, Bran didn’t plan to talk him out of it. He’d just give Ian some names of a few of his colleagues. The personal side of his life Bran would have to figure out, and fast, he thought as he pulled in front of the bar and grill. Getting out of the car, he took a deep breath and stood on the sidewalk. Ian parked a few spaces back and hopped out of his jeep. Bran noticed Ian had lost his tie and coat somewhere along the drive over. He looked good, Bran thought. Bran decided to take off his own jacket. He wasn’t wearing a tie so that was easy enough. When Ian reached him, he smiled and pointed towards the building. “I’ve never been here. They have good chilidogs?”

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“The best,” Bran said and held the bar door open for Ian. Without thought, Bran brushed Ian’s lower back as he moved through the doorway. He hadn’t even realised he’d done it until Ian looked back over his shoulder, pure lust in his eyes. Oh Christ, this is going to be a long dinner. Bran walked towards a booth, trying to act as though his cock wasn’t attempting to push its way through his zipper. When he slid in against the wall, he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t bother picking up a menu but held one out to Ian. “You can look over this, but most people only eat one thing here. To be honest, it’s the only thing I can personally vouch for.” Ian waved away the menu. “I’ll go with your suggestion. I haven’t had a chilidog in ages. There’s a place in Kansas City called ‘The Peanut’. They have the best chilidogs for miles.” The waitress came over to take their order and Ian looked at Bran. “Are you going to tell my doctor if I order a beer?” Bran shook his head and chuckled. “Have what you want, you’re a big boy.” Bran realised what he’d said and winced. Hopefully the waitress hadn’t caught the innuendo. When she walked off to turn in their orders, Bran smiled. “Sorry about that.” “Hey, don’t apologise. It’s nice to know you approve,” Ian gave him a wink. Bran felt his face turn red, an unfortunate consequence of having pale skin. No matter how much time he spent on the beach at his weekend home in Galilee, Bran stayed pretty fair. He was saved by the waitress returning with their beers. “Thanks,” Bran nodded. He looked at Ian again and wondered what they should talk about. “So, what is it you do again?” “I’m an illustrator. I mainly work on children’s and young adult books.” Ian shrugged like it was no big deal. “Like painting or drawing?” Bran asked, fascinated that he hadn’t known this side of Ian before now. “Painting mostly, I prefer to do my work in watercolours for the children’s books. I think it soothes them when they’re trying to go to sleep.”

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Bran could tell by the look on Ian’s face that he loved what he did. “Have you illustrated any books I might know?” “Oh, I don’t know. I doubt you’re up to date on children’s books, but I did one that’s sold quite a few,” Ian went on to tell Bran the name of a book that was fairly well known. “Hey, I bought that book for my niece last Christmas. Wow, I’m sitting across from a real celebrity,” he chuckled. Now it was Ian’s turn to blush, the Irish ancestry so much like his own, evident in his creamy complexion. He shrugged and took a drink of his beer. The two of them talked until the waitress brought out their food. “Holy cow,” Ian said, eyes lighting up. “You weren’t kidding. These things look fantastic.” Ian spread his napkin out on his lap. Bran smiled as Ian tried to figure out if he should use silverware or risk dripping chilli all over his white dress shirt. Bran picked up his knife and fork and started cutting into the colossal pile of food. Soon, Ian followed his lead and they both stopped talking in favour of dinner. When they’d both pushed their plates back, Ian patted his flat stomach. “I won’t be able to eat for days.” “You should probably eat like that more often, put a little meat on your bones,” Bran teased. Ian ran his hands down his torso. “What, you don’t like lean men?” “Oh, I like your body just fine.” Shit, why did I say that? “Thank you, I’m rather fond of yours as well, although you’ve seen a hell of a lot more of mine.” Ian’s voice had taken on a sultry tone, one that Bran’s cock readily acknowledged. He spread his thighs, giving his erection room and grinned. “I guess we’ll need to remedy that.” Ian almost bounced out of the booth and dug in his back pocket for his wallet. “I’m done,” he said, throwing money on the table. “Could I interest you in a beer and a football game on TV?” Bran’s eyes skimmed Ian’s body, taking in the object of his lustful thoughts pressing against Ian’s zipper. If Bran made this leap he knew there’d be no going back. The question being, was it worth it? He finished his beer as he thought of the repercussions of sleeping

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with Ian. Well, Ian soon would no longer be his patient, he needed to reconfirm that. Ian’s health also appeared to be normal. God, he was trying to justify sleeping with the man simply by the fact that he wasn’t dying. Bran met Ian’s eyes again, “Are you really planning on transferring to another oncologist?” Ian shrugged, “If that’s what it takes. As much as I like you as a doctor, I think I’ll like you even more as a lover.” Well, that was plain enough. Now that the cards were clearly laid out on the table, Bran knew it was his move. “I’ll follow you,” he finally said, hoping like hell he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

**** Ian pulled into the detached garage of his small, sage green house with white shutters. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he locked the door and met Bran in the drive. “Nice place,” Bran said, looking around at the house and yard. The large maple trees shading his lawn were shedding their leaves and colourful patches of reds and orange floated down around them. Ian was proud of his home. He’d worked tirelessly refurbishing the older bungalow and had spent endless hours landscaping his entire yard. Gardening was one of his passions and right now, chrysanthemums of every colour lined the walk and front of the house. “Thanks, I like it.” Ian motioned towards the front porch, “Shall we?” Bran nodded and preceded Ian up the steps. He couldn’t help checking out the fit of Bran’s slacks across his ass. Licking his lips, it took all his willpower not to reach out for a touch. He looked up and realised he’d been caught staring. Blushing, Ian chuckled and unlocked the door. “Can’t blame a guy for staring with an ass like that.” Bran’s cheeks pinked as he walked into the house. Ian looked around hoping he’d remembered to put away the laundry he’d folded the night before. Whew, he smiled, when he saw that indeed his house was clean. “Would you like a beer?” Ian asked as he walked towards the kitchen at the back of the house.

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“Yeah, that sounds good.” Bran followed and leaned against the door jam. “You redo this room?” Bran asked, coming into the room to run his hands over the solid walnut countertop. “About two years ago, I think.” Ian gestured to the counter. “Great aren’t they? I saw them in a magazine and knew it was exactly what I wanted. Of course that meant I had to paint the cabinets, but I like the country blue. It seems to fit the house.” “The entire room is breathtaking. I think you might just be in the wrong line of work. I need you to come with me to Galilee sometime and help me decorate the beach house.” “Shit, you have a beach house in Galilee?” Ian whistled. “That must be fantastic in the summer.” “It’s great most of the year, except winter. Of course swimming’s out of the question in spring and fall, but the views are still spectacular.” Opening the fridge, Ian took out two bottles of imported beer and passed one to Bran. Their fingers brushed and Ian’s cock took notice of the electricity between them. Taking a step closer, he held the bottle as Bran pulled it towards his chest. They stood looking into each other’s eyes, barely an inch between them. Ian had to look up at the tall, six-foot-three doctor. He wasn’t sure if even on tip-toes he could reach those lips, given his own small five-foot-six frame, but oh how he wanted them. “I want to kiss you.” Taking a deep, audible breath, Bran set the bottle on the counter along with Ian’s, and bent to brush their lips across one another’s. Stretching, Ian wrapped his arms around Bran’s neck and pulled him back down for another. Running his tongue over the seam of Bran’s lips, Ian wanted to jump for joy when Bran opened for him. At his first taste, Ian closed his eyes and let loose a moan. How can one man taste so right? Taking the kiss deeper, Bran turned them and lifted Ian onto the counter, barely missing the bottles of beer. Ian wrapped his lips around Bran’s tongue, sucking it into his own mouth, his hands threading through the short black curls of Bran’s hair. Oh, oh this is nice, Ian thought as he continued to assault Bran’s mouth.

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Ian was pulled to the edge of the countertop as Bran insinuated himself further between Ian’s already spread thighs. Grinding against Ian’s erection, Bran moaned and broke their kiss. “I want you.” “Yes,” Ian’s head fell back, pushing his cock against Bran’s. Scooping him off the counter, Bran headed towards the living room. Ian wrapped his legs around Bran’s waist and held on, burying his face in Bran’s shoulder. “Which way?” Bran asked, squeezing Ian’s ass. “Last door on the left,” he managed to pant, licking at Bran’s neck. “Hold on,” Bran said, readjusting Ian in his arms. For life, Ian thought.

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Chapter Three

Bran let Ian down beside the bed and started working on his dress shirt. “Need to see you,” Bran said. Ian’s skin tingled as Bran’s fingers brushed his bare skin. When was the last time someone undressed him? Ian couldn’t remember, it felt like his whole existence centred in this room. He stood still while Bran finished unbuttoning him. When his shirt was open, he closed his eyes as Bran sat on the edge of the bed and began touching and kissing his chest. “Beautiful,” Bran whispered, seconds before latching on to his pebbled nipple. Ian knew he wasn’t beautiful, but he’d worked damn hard on his body over the past year, giving his chest definition. Every day he wasn’t puking from the chemo, he’d tried to do something physical, even when all he wanted was to curl up in bed. The chemo totally zapped his energy, but his spirit was stronger and he knew if he allowed himself to give into depression he might as well make funeral arrangements. Bran’s teeth bit gently into the flesh around the hardened nub of his breast. Ian moaned and arched his torso pulling away slightly. Bran wasn’t having it and gripped Ian’s hips, bringing him closer. When Ian was standing snug between Bran’s open thighs, Bran began unfastening Ian’s dress pants. As the slacks slid to his ankles, a hand covered his erection. Bran stroked Ian through his boxer-briefs and pulled off his nipple to look him in the eyes. Bran cupped his sac, and Ian felt his body tense. No one had touched him there in passion since his operation. Instead of acknowledging the sudden tension in the room, Bran pulled Ian’s briefs down and buried his face in Ian’s groin. He felt soft fingers tracing the length of his cock, as Bran’s tongue branded the flesh of his sac. Reaching out, Ian had to hold onto Bran’s shoulders to keep himself upright. “Feel’s good,” he groaned, the awkwardness already fading. He buried his fingers in Bran’s black curls as his cock was swallowed. “Oh, fuck.” The slide of Bran’s tongue on the underside of his throbbing cock combined with the sensation of Bran’s hot mouth, had Ian trembling. “Can’t do this, gonna come.” He tried to pull back, but Bran grabbed his ass and hung on.

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Ian’s hips began to move of their own accord and soon he felt the first jet of seed escaping his body. Bran swallowed around his cock, prolonging his climax. Shit, it has never been like this. Bran released his cock and stood, Ian began unbuttoning the much taller man’s shirt. “That wasn’t a very safe thing to do. You’re supposed to be a doctor, into health and all that.” Bran ran his hands down Ian’s sides, and blushed. “You make me forget, everything I’ve learned to protect myself goes right out the window when I’m with you.” Bran suddenly looked a little solemn, “You’re dangerous for me.” Pushing the shirt off Bran’s broad shoulders, Ian buried his face in the short black curls of Bran’s chest. Inhaling, Ian smelled the citrus cologne he loved so much. “You make me want.” “Good,” Bran chuckled. “At least I know I’m not the only one.” Bran leaned down and kissed Ian, the kiss going deeper until Bran began groaning. “Let’s get naked and under the covers.” “Race ya,” Ian laughed as he pulled off his shoes. “Not fair, you’re already practically naked,” Bran said, pulling his slacks down. “You complaining?” Ian asked slipping under the covers. “Hell, no,” Bran grinned and kicked off his shoes. He crawled in beside Ian and moulded his body around Ian’s much smaller frame. God, he loved the feel of Bran’s weight surrounding him. Despite his brave front, it had been a hell of a year and it was nice to finally feel like a man again. Ian reached down and grasped Bran’s erection. “It’s payback time,” Ian said as he started to make his way down Bran’s powerful body. Bran caught him under his arms and pulled him back up. “I want to make love to you, if that’s alright?” “Alright? Shit, you’re talking to the original bottom-boy.” Damn, maybe Bran likes to be fucked as well. He looked into Bran’s blue eyes. “Of course if you’d like me to…well, you know, I could probably learn.” Bran seemed stunned for a second. “You’ve never taken a turn on top?”

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“Well, technically, yes. I do like a good ride from the top occasionally, but no, I’ve never fucked anyone.” He grinned, feeling his cheeks go pink. Pulling Ian tighter into his embrace, Bran kissed him again, shorter this time but just as erotic. “I’ve only allowed it a couple of times, but maybe someday…” Bran stopped suddenly. He gave his head a brief shake and rolled on top of Ian. “Stuff?” “Uh, yeah,” Ian pointed towards the drawer, unable to reach it with Bran’s weight on top of him. With his long arms, Bran easily opened the drawer and came back with the lube and a condom. He unscrewed the tube and slicked his fingers. Maintaining eye contact, Bran made his first pass over Ian’s puckered hole. “Oh,” Ian moaned, spreading his legs as far as he could. Bran patiently slid one finger inside, holding still, allowing Ian’s body time to settle. “Good, oh so good,” Ian said, tossing his head from side to side as Bran moved the long digit in and out of his body. “More,” he cried. Bran pulled out and then back in with two fingers. Ian closed his eyes and let himself enjoy every second of Bran’s touch. “Now,” he finally moaned, unable to keep his hips from thrusting against Bran. The beautiful stretch was suddenly gone and Ian almost whimpered. He opened his eyes and looked directly into Bran’s blue depths. As Bran opened the foil packet and rolled the condom on, Ian’s body trembled. Pumping his covered cock, Bran positioned himself at Ian’s well stretched hole. Ian couldn’t help but feel he was looking into the face of his future. Don’t be stupid, he lectured himself. It’s one night, their first fuck, so what if I’ve dreamt about it for the past year. He knew he was being irrational about the whole thing. No one finds their soul mate in an oncologist’s office. Bran slowly pushed inside and Ian stopped thinking. All he could do was feel. The entire world narrowed to one section of his body. He moaned as he felt every centimetre of Bran’s cock slowly invade his passage. The stretch was welcome, the burn almost nonexistent, only the utter joy of bliss crept into his mind. He began babbling, of what, he didn’t know, but whatever he said seemed to spur Bran on. In one powerful thrust, he was impaled on Bran’s cock. “Oh god, oh god, so good,” Ian continued to murmur.

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Reaching down, Ian fisted his shaft as Bran pistoned his hips against Ian’s ass. Each thrust harder on every surge, Ian stroking himself to Bran’s rhythm. Oh it was so delicious, so right. Ian felt himself take flight high above the bed as his seed warmed his torso with jet after jet of cum. Bran growled his name as he thrust in once more, the bigger man shaking with the force of his release. Ian pulled Bran down on top of him and buried his face in Bran’s hair as they both tried to regain their breath. “I lo…” Ian barely stopped the words from escaping. Shit, shit, shit. With a grunt, Bran rolled to his side. He disposed of the used condom and fell back onto the bed. Eyelids drooping, he pulled Ian against his chest. When Ian glanced up, Bran was still looking up at the ceiling. Ian had to wonder whether he was regretting what they’d just done. Ian couldn’t though, never would he forget this night. It was worth going through the trouble of finding a new doctor and having his records transferred. “You okay?” “Huh?” Bran asked, apparently in his own world. “I was just wondering if you were still with me?” Ian asked again, petting the hair on Bran’s chest. Bran squeezed him tighter, “I’m here. Thinking about taking a little nap though.” Ian yawned at the mention of sleep. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” The two snuggled together and drifted off, Ian still feeling apprehensive about Bran’s change in mood. The next time Ian opened his eyes it was to find himself alone. “Bran?” Ian waited a few seconds and called even louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the house. When no answer came, he looked over the side of the bed and sighed when he realised Bran’s clothes were gone. Falling back onto his pillow, he blinked away the threat of tears. “I’ll just call him in a few days, and try to find out what happened,” he said to the quiet room. Old feelings of inadequacy crept into bed with him. Bran was a physician, he was absolutely fucking gorgeous, how could a scrawny red-head hope to keep someone like his attention? Close to dawn, Ian finally fell back into a fitful sleep, feeling worse about himself than he had in ages.

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Chapter Four

For two days Bran managed to skirt him. Every time Ian called the office, the receptionist would tell him Bran was with a patient and she’d leave a message that Ian had called. He punched in the numbers deciding to try once more. “Ryan, Coutler and Briggs,” the receptionist said. “Hi, Nancy, it’s Ian again. I don’t suppose Dr. Ryan is available?” He closed his eyes, ashamed of himself for caring so much. “I’m sorry, Ian, Dr. Ryan has decided to take the rest of the week off. Is there a problem? Dr. Coutler is in the office today. I’m sure we can squeeze you in.” “No, nothing’s wrong.” Ian took a deep breath. “But I would like to schedule an appointment with either Dr. Coutler or Dr. Briggs and cancel my monthly appointment with Dr. Ryan.” “It’s already been done. You should be getting a postcard reminder in the mail the week before. Dr. Ryan had it scheduled for the same time as your last one but with Dr. Briggs.” “Oh,” Ian felt as though he was about to throw-up. Well if that wasn’t a definite hint that Bran never wanted to see him again, he didn’t know what was. “Okay, thanks, Nancy.” “You take care, Ian.” Hanging up the phone, Ian slid his way down the cabinet to sit on the floor. With his knees bent, he buried his face in his hands. Unsure of whether he felt like throwing up or breaking down, Ian wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked himself. He remembered his mom sitting up with him when he was sick as a boy. She’d pull him to her bosom and rock him until he fell asleep. God, he wished his mother was still alive. Friends were nice, but nothing took the place of a family’s love. Well, he’d thought he’d found a close second in the feelings he’d developed for Bran, but just like his mother, Bran had taken his love and left. Shit, that wasn’t fair. His mom hadn’t left him like Bran had done. It wasn’t her fault she’d been struck down with a brain aneurism his freshman year at college. It was life. People got sick, people die, and more are born to take their place. It was the way of the world.

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Ian looked at the paintings spread out over the kitchen table. He’d decided to work from home the last couple of days, unwilling to be part of the whole happy office atmosphere. Now, as he stood and walked over to the illustrations, he shook his head. What were supposed to be watercolours of a chipper farm mouse had turned into the depressing pictures in his mind. Instead of using happy blues and yellows, Ian had painted the entire series in grey and black. “Somehow I don’t think nightmares are the theme the author was trying for,” Ian taunted himself, hands running through the short strands of auburn hair. Feeling like he just wanted to crawl under the covers, Ian walked towards the bedroom. Stripping, he stopped and looked around the room. Fuck, what was he doing? He hadn’t allowed the cancer to get him down, or the fact that one of his balls was now floating in a jar of formaldehyde in someone’s lab. Why was he letting Bran’s rejection tear him apart? “Fuck him,” Ian shouted. He moved past hurt and straight to pissed. No, he was more than pissed, he was livid. Ian had a feeling he knew exactly where Bran would run, the beach house. Walking to the closet, he pulled down his old backpack and stuffed a change of clothes and his toothbrush inside. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

**** Unshaven, Bran sat on the beach, wrapped in a heavy blanket. He stared out to sea looking for answers. With his mind in turmoil there was no way he could stay in the city and treat patients. When he’d caught himself writing the wrong dosage for a prescription he’d put an end to it. A request for an immediate mini-vacation had followed, and here he was. No better than he’d been two days earlier, but at least he wasn’t risking anyone’s life, only his own sanity. Thoughts of Ian had kept him awake since the night he’d snuck out of Ian’s bed. He was still ashamed for the way he’d handled it, but it had all been too much. Bran had never been in love and didn’t even know if he was experiencing the beginning stages of it, but it was more than he’d ever allowed himself to feel. Making love, and that’s exactly what it had felt like, was also a new experience. Used to one night stands, and no-strings relationships, Bran had never before hungered for someone

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like he did for Ian. And as he’d watched Ian sleep, Bran had known, he’d never survive if something happened to the man by his side. It was pitiful for a highly qualified oncologist to have a fear of death, but it had plagued Bran for years, since the death of one of his earliest patients. Emily had been a thirty-twoyear old mother of three diagnosed with uterine cancer. She’d had a complete hysterectomy and Bran was sure there wouldn’t be a reoccurrence. A year and a half later, tests revealed her cancer had spread to her lungs. Bran shook off the memories, unwilling to revisit the months Emily spent trying every treatment option available, only to die of pneumonia at the age of thirty-four. Even the thought of Ian getting sick again, tore at his heart. What would it be like if he allowed himself to get even closer to the fun-loving man? As Bran stared at the surf, he spotted something rolling along the waters edge. “Damn thoughtless tourists discarding their trash again,” he huffed. Dropping his blanket, Bran headed towards the glass bottle. Having to chase it as the sea tried to once again claim it’s treasure, he lunged for it, soaking his jeans. He held the bottle up to the fading evening sky and saw it wasn’t trash at all, but an old bottle with a stopper in the top. The dry rolled piece of paper inside, told him the contents hadn’t been damaged although it appeared it had been adrift for a while. Taking his bounty back to his blanket, Bran wrapped himself up. He knew he should probably head back to the house, but the place was too lonely. Pulling on the bottle’s tight cork, Bran shook it until a tightly rolled piece of paper fell out along with a necklace. He held the necklace up to the fading light, noticing the beautiful green stone encased in a spiral of tarnished silver. Slipping the necklace back in the bottle for safe keeping he started reading the enclosed note. A stone that’s blessed by lovers’ hands To bless the wearer with a love that stands. Through time and toil, no stopping fate As lovers unite, no hand can break. So take this token and wear it true, Destiny awaits with love for you. A favour I ask from you to me Once blessed return my gift to the sea.

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For others await the hand of fate My blessing to love’s true mates. Bran was surprised when he heard his name. Without reading the rest of the note, Bran quickly rolled it back up and stuck it in the bottle. Sealing it with the cork he whipped around and spotted Ian stalking towards him, the sand flying as his feet ate up the distance. Bran stood, the bottle dropping to the sand along with his blanket. “How did you find me?” he asked when Ian got within ten feet of him. God he looked good when he was pissed. Ian’s short hair was barely long enough to blow in the ocean-side breeze, his flushed cheeks, either a result of anger or the chilly weather. Ian stopped in front of Bran and put his hands on his hips. “Wasn’t hard. Came to town, asked around.” He looked down the beach. “Nice people around here, eager to help a cancer survivor who’s searching for his oncologist.” That surprised Bran. He didn’t think anyone in the area even knew he existed. “What do you want, Ian?” Bran asked, schooling his face so as not to show how much he’d missed the man. Ian continued to look everywhere but at Bran. “Well see, that’s the thing. If you’d asked me this morning, I would’ve said to rip your head off. By the time I got to Galilee, I’d cooled down a good bit, and I decided I just needed answers. But walking onto your beach and seeing you there, wrapped up in the ragged blanket like you didn’t have a friend in the world…” Ian rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “The first thing I thought of was hugging you, letting you know that nothing can be as bad as all that.” Ian reached out and put his hand on Bran’s shoulder. “I’m not sure why you ran, but I can tell by looking at you, something’s eating you up.” Ian moved his hand to the back of Bran’s neck and pulled him down. “Let me in,” he whispered a split second before he covered Bran’s lips in one of the tenderest kisses Bran had ever received. Bran bent and picked Ian up off his feet. Taking the kiss deeper, he swept the inside of Ian’s mouth like he was searching for his soul and maybe he was because like a dam breaking, Bran experienced a rush of emotions. A growl erupted from his throat as he dropped to the sand with Ian still in his arms. He covered Ian’s body with his own, not

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caring if someone came walking by or looking out their window. All Bran cared about at that moment was the feel of the man under him. Ian’s erection pressed against Bran’s stomach as Bran slowly kissed his way down Ian’s neck. He began fumbling with the button on Ian’s jeans, when a hand wrapped around his wrist. Looking up into Ian’s face, he questioned, “Something wrong?” “I need to know if this means more to you than sex?” Ian held Bran’s eyes for a few more seconds before looking away. Rolling to the side, Bran covered his face with his arm. It was decision time, and Bran knew if he made love to Ian again, he wouldn’t be able to walk away. “I’m afraid,” he mumbled from underneath his arm. He felt Ian’s hand caress his chest. “Is that why you left before?” Ian asked. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I just wasn’t ready to face my fears.” Bran removed his arm and sat up. Grabbing a handful of sand, Bran watched as a steady stream escaped from his closed fist. “This is love to me. No matter how safe you think you can keep it,” when all the sand had fallen from his fist, he opened it, “in the end, you’re left without it.” Ian put his hand in Bran’s. “That’s why you need to hold onto something more solid and let the little stuff go.” Ian smiled and looked down at the small pile of sand. Bran thought about it for a few seconds before grasping Ian’s hand like a life-line. “Can I interest you in some hot chocolate?” Bran knew he needed to get his lust under control and talk to Ian. What Ian had said somehow made sense to him, but Bran wasn’t sure if they were both on the same page. It sounded like Ian was after a relationship. Hell, Bran had never really even had one of those, maybe he didn’t have it in him. One thing he was sure about though, if a relationship was possible, it would be with Ian. Standing, Ian tried to pull Bran up. Chuckling, Bran stood on his own accord. No way could Ian lift him. Bran gathered his blanket and the almost forgotten bottle and walked hand in hand with Ian towards his house. Suddenly the house didn’t seem as lonely. Bran glanced over at Ian. “I hope you know how to make hot cocoa, if not, you’re stuck with the little packet kind.” That earned him a wink, “I’ll take care of you.”

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Chapter Five

Dumping the blanket, bottle and all, on the floor, Bran led Ian into the kitchen. “So, did you say you knew how to make the real stuff or am I going to have to get out the little packets?” Ian grinned, “I guess that depends on whether you have the supplies needed for the real thing.” Rubbing his bristly chin, Bran thought about the ingredients. He hadn’t done much shopping for this surprise vacation, but he did have milk. Opening the fridge, he set the milk on the counter and started digging in the pantry. The only chocolate he could find were the little packets of instant cocoa. Bran looked over at Ian. “Well, it looks like instant.” Ian jumped off the counter where he’d taken up residence while Bran searched the kitchen. “We can make the instant kind with milk instead of water. That’ll make it almost as good as the real thing.” Ian took a pan from the rack above the centre island and poured milk into it. Setting it on the stove, he cleared his throat. “So-um, do you have family around here?” Bran was in the process of setting mugs on the counter when he froze. Family? Bran didn’t even know what it felt like to have family. “No, I was raised in foster care.” When Ian didn’t say anything, Bran went on, not wanting to make a big deal about it. “I was taken away from my mother when I was six. She had a few drug related issues. After that I was bounced from home to home until I turned eighteen.” Ian continued to stir the milk for several minutes, both of them lost in thought. Ian poured the hot milk into the cups. “I’m an orphan now, too.” “I’m not an orphan. At least I don’t think I am. Just a kid no-one wanted for the long haul.” Ignoring the pity in Ian’s eyes, Bran opened the packages and poured the powdered chocolate into the mugs. “Was there ever anyone who loved you like a son?” Ian inquired, putting his hand on Bran’s back.

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Bran didn’t pull away from Ian’s touch, but he didn’t acknowledge it either. “Once. When I was around nine. I’d been with an older husband and wife for about two years. They started the adoption process, but then the husband got sick, cancer. Mrs. Tisdale didn’t think she could take care of her husband and raise a young boy, so I was sent to another foster home, adoption forgotten.” The memories of being sent away from the Tisdale’s were still painful. It may have been over twenty-eight years ago, but it still hurt like it was yesterday. Giving himself a shake, Bran picked up a mug and handed it to Ian. “This is depressing, let’s go sit in front of a fire and talk about something else.” It took a few seconds for Ian to follow, but eventually he was settled in a corner of the black leather sofa as Bran built a fire. “So how long have you had this place?” Ian asked. Bran closed the fireplace screen and looked around the sparsely furnished room. “It’s sad isn’t it? I told you I needed a decorator. I’ve owned this place for almost five years.” He hadn’t fully realised until then just how pathetic it was. Besides the couch, chair, coffee table and floor lamp, the room was pretty empty. Nothing hung on the walls, no knick-knacks decorating the mantle. Maybe that’s why this house has never felt like a home. Getting off the floor, Bran sat beside Ian on the couch and took a drink of his cocoa. As soon as Bran set his cup down on the table, Ian moved into his arms. “I could go shopping with you, help pick out some stuff.” Bran kissed the top of Ian’s head. “I’ve been such an ass, why would you want anything to do with me?” Ian buried his face against Bran’s chest and mumbled, “Because I think I’m falling for you, if I haven’t already.” Bran’s hands stilled on Ian’s back. Ian is falling in love with me? Bran closed his eyes and let the feeling soak in for a few moments. He wasn’t sure he’d ever really been loved. Hell, he didn’t even understand what the word meant. Sure he’d heard it bandied around here and there, but he didn’t know that he’d ever actually felt it. Bran never let anyone close enough to acquire feelings for him, not since the Tisdale’s. Wrapping his arms around Ian, Bran squeezed. “I wish I could tell you the same thing, but I can’t, not yet. I feel something, that much is evident by my appearance I’m sure,” he

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chuckled, although the laughter never reached his eyes. “Do you think…” Bran sighed. “I’d like to see you, but I can’t offer any promises.” Shifting, Ian straddled Bran’s lap and cupped his cheeks. “I never asked for promises, just a chance to spend time with you.” Ian leaned in and kissed him, Bran’s lips opening immediately as Ian’s tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When Ian started to move and swivel his hips in Bran’s lap, Bran closed his eyes and thrust up. He captured Ian’s tongue, sucking on it as Ian scrambled to release their cocks from the confines of their jeans. Cool air hit his shaft seconds before he felt Ian’s tight grip. Releasing Ian’s tongue, Bran rested his head on the back of the couch and gave himself up to the sensations of Ian’s hand and mouth as he licked and nipped at Bran’s neck. Ian’s cock slid alongside of Bran’s, as two hands wrapped around the girth of both hard-ons. The heat of Ian’s fist wasn’t what he longed for and he opened his eyes. “I want in,” he growled. Shifting, Bran went to reach for his wallet and realised it was in the bedroom. “Condom?” he asked, hoping like hell he didn’t have to get up. Ian nodded, and pulled out his billfold. Bran noticed Ian’s hands were shaking as he dug out two foil packets. “Lube?” Bran asked with a smile. “Spit,” Ian moaned, tearing open one of the packets. He rolled it down Bran’s length in record time before standing and shucking his jeans. Ian turned and presented himself to Bran’s questing tongue. “Fuck,” Bran groaned between licks, feeling Ian’s body open for him. “Yep, that’s what I’m hoping for,” Ian said, turning to give Bran a wink. With a good coating of spit applied, Ian turned and remounted Bran’s lap. Holding the base of his shaft, he watched as Ian impaled himself an inch at a time. “Damn you’re sexy.” Bran squeezed the globes of Ian’s ass. Fuck, the fit of his cock inside Ian was so perfect. Bran would almost swear they were made to be together, one puzzle piece locking securely into another. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. Would he be able to let his guard down enough to make a real relationship work? As Ian rode him, Bran’s mind was all over the place. Visions of fucking mingled with domestic life with Ian. It was the shock of such scenes that had Bran leaning forward, biting at Ian’s pebbled nipple. He wanted to mark Ian. He lapped at the bite. Soothing pretty words

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came out of Ian’s mouth as he continued to ride Bran. With his hands on the back of Ian’s neck, Bran pulled him down, sealing his lips over the soft skin of Ian’s neck. Thrusting up into Ian’s heat, Bran sucked a large bruise up on Ian’s neck. He knew it wasn’t a permanent mark, but it was his. When he released the skin, Bran looked into Ian’s eyes. Ian seemed to know what the hickey had been about, because he smiled. “Yours.” That one little word, filled Bran with more joy than he ever thought possible. Wrapping his hand around Ian’s cock, he began stroking him, paying special attention to the crown. Ian bucked and threw his head back, heat splashing Bran’s hand. “Gonna,” Bran groaned. “Do it,” Ian said, letting Bran take over. Pulling Ian down as he thrust up, Bran felt himself fill the thin latex sheath. “Oh fuck,” Bran growled as he continued to shoot and tremble. Ian’s arms wrapped around him as the sweet man collapsed against Bran’s chest. Licking at the dark bruise on the side of Ian’s neck, Bran decided he’d definitely give this relationship thing a try. Anything that felt this good had to be right.

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Chapter Six

“Oh, look at this one,” Ian said, dragging Bran by the arm towards an old kitchen table. They’d spent the last month shopping in stores all around Providence and Galilee. So far, Ian had managed to outfit the living room with comfortable, overstuffed furniture. What Bran had was nice, but it just didn’t fit in with the warm, dark shingled beach house. Ian was having the time of his life, scouring antique stores and flea markets, looking for just the right pieces. Bran, bless his heart, pasted on a smile and obediently followed him from store to store. Paying for the items Ian deemed worthy of the beach house. He wasn’t trying to make it into a showplace, just a comfortable weekend retreat. “What do I need another table for?” Bran asked, looking at the rectangular dark oak kitchen table. Ian looped his arm through Bran’s and squeezed. “I thought it would be nice to use for a desk in your study.” Truthfully, Ian thought it would be a terrific place to work on his illustrations, but he couldn’t tell Bran that. With a slight tilt to one side of his mouth, Bran nodded. “I don’t often bring that much stuff with me on the weekends, but it would make a great work table for you.” Ian grinned, “Yeah? Ya think?” Bran wrapped him up in those big arms and kissed him. “If you want something for yourself to put in the house, just say so.” “Well,” Ian nuzzled his head under Bran’s chin. “I’d be more than happy to buy it, but yeah, I’d like a space to work. I didn’t want to seem pushy though.” Laughing, Bran looked around before smacking Ian’s ass. “We’ve seen each other everyday for the last three and a half weeks and I haven’t tired of you. I think I’ll plan on keeping you awhile.” Bran released him and took a step back. “It’s a record for me actually. Usually a couple of dates and I’m backing off. But this time I have no such desire.”

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“Good,” Ian said with a nod and a quick kiss. He liked that Bran was starting to open up with him, letting Ian inside his heart more every day. He knew Bran wasn’t aware of the looks he gave him, but Ian felt those looks with every beat of his heart. Ian spotted two pictures leaning against the wall and almost jumped for joy. The pictures themselves weren’t important, but the frames were magnificent. Perfect for the watercolours Ian had worked on all week. He found the clerk and told her he’d like to buy the table and the pictures. Ian turned to Bran and noticed a look on his face. “Tell me you’re not going to hang those in my house?” “Nope, they’re for a surprise.” Ian made arrangements to have the table delivered the following weekend to the house in Galilee, but he took the oil paintings with him. As they walked towards his jeep, Bran nudged his shoulder. “So do I get a hint as to the surprise?” “The only hint I’ll give you is that you’ll have to wait until next weekend.” Ian lifted the back roll-up window of the jeep and secured his treasures. “Feel like getting something to eat?” “Sure,” Bran replied. “How ‘bout trying Jed’s Steakhouse again?” Ian wrinkled his nose and looked down, run-around jeans and a T-shirt were not proper attire for Jed’s. “How ‘bout not. Maybe we could go back to that chilidog place.” “Sounds good.”

**** Bran excused himself to the restroom as they waited on their food. Ian looked around the friendly bar, feeling happier than any one man had a right. His phone started chirping from the holster on his belt and Ian quickly fumbled for it as the bar full of rabid Monday night football fans turned to look at him. He smiled and shrugged as he flipped it open. “Hello?” Ian watched Bran walk back towards the table, as Dr. Briggs spoke in his ear. Feeling like he wanted to throw-up, Ian schooled his face. The last thing he needed was Bran prodding him about the phone call. Ian knew it would be a deal-breaker as far as Bran was

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concerned. Bran had shared his fears with Ian over the previous month and from what Briggs was telling him, Bran’s worst nightmare could be coming true. As Bran slid into the booth, Ian winded up his call. “Okay, I’ll give you a call first thing in the morning.” He snapped the phone shut and put it back into his holster as the waitress set their food down. “Who was on the phone?” Bran asked, digging into his chilidog. “Oh, I’ve got a meeting in the morning. It was just a call to remind me.” Ian picked up his fork and cut into the greasy looking food. His stomach rolled and he set his fork down. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” Trying his best to walk casually to the men’s room, Ian barely made it before he emptied the contents of his stomach. As he tried his best to keep his head above the toilet seat, Ian heaved again. “Dammit,” he yelled, the sound echoing around the small tiled bathroom. Not now, please God, not now. He’d been naïve to think the early morning CT scan was no big deal, his one year anniversary present. A shadow, that’s all it is, he kept telling himself. The restroom door opened and soon there was a knock on the stall door. “Ian? You okay?” Bran asked as he tried to open the door. “I’m all right. Just a little sick all of a sudden. I’ll be right out.” He quickly pulled himself together and wiped his mouth before flushing. Standing, Ian took a deep breath and walked out of the stall and straight to the sink. “It must’ve been something I ate,” Ian lied, washing his face and rinsing his mouth. Bran pulled a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser and dabbed at Ian’s face. “Nice try, but you didn’t even take a bite and we haven’t eaten for hours.” Ian looked in the mirror, meeting Bran’s eyes in the reflection. He didn’t know what to say, sure that if he told the truth, Bran would run. “It’s kind of embarrassing. Nerves. It’s a really important meeting and I just don’t feel prepared.” With an audible sigh, Bran wrapped his arms around Ian. “Let’s get you home. Is there something I can help you with to prepare for the meeting?” “No, but you can take me home and hold me for a while. I have a couple of things to finish up, but I need you first.” If this was going to be his last date with Bran, Ian wanted to make it last.

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Kissing him on the permanent hickey he seemed to have lately, Bran turned him towards the door and led him back to their table. Their dinners were in to-go containers on the table. Ian looked up at Bran. Shrugging, Bran picked up the white boxes. “I could tell by the look on your face when you excused yourself that I’d need to get you home.” Containers in hand, Bran led Ian out to the jeep. “Give me your keys and I’ll drive.” Nodding, Ian dug for his key ring and handed it to Bran before sliding into the passenger seat. He no longer felt sick to his stomach, just sick at heart. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the back of the seat. The jeep started and a warm hand cupped his cheek. “We’ll be home before you know it,” Bran whispered. Ian couldn’t look at Bran, knowing he was hiding something this important from him, so he kept his eyes shut the entire ride home. When the jeep pulled into his garage it dawned on him that he’d picked Bran up for their evening shopping excursion. “Shit,” he said, turning to Bran. “You don’t have your car here.” “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy and a cab ride is just a phone call away.” Bran unfastened his seat belt and leaned over to give Ian’s temple a kiss. “Come on.”

**** “Bed or couch,” he asked Ian as he helped him into the house. “Couch, I think,” Ian mumbled. “I need to brush my teeth first though and get into some shorts or something.” “I vote for, and something,” Bran said with a grin and a wink. While Ian disappeared into the bathroom, Bran went to the bedroom and found a blanket and pillow. As he carried them back to the living room, he stopped at Ian’s workroom door, tempted to take a peek. The toilet flushing helped him resist. Tossing the bedding on the sofa, Bran took off his shoes and socks, before pulling his shirt over his head. The door opened and Ian walked towards the couch in nothing but his tight grey boxer-briefs. Damn, even sick, Ian looked good. Bran quickly shed his jeans and lay on the couch, patting the area in front of him.

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With a smile, Ian spooned against him, burying his face in Bran’s chest hair. Reaching down, Bran pulled the cover over them and reached for the remote. He knew Ian didn’t feel like talking, that much was evident from the quiet ride home. Bran flipped to the football game as Ian snuggled in and put his leg between Bran’s. “Thank you,” Ian said, kissing Bran’s chest. “For what, holding you? That’s my pleasure, babe.” Bran was starting to get a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew Ian had his CT scan that morning. Bran knew he should just come out and ask. No, his mind screamed, he didn’t want to know. If he didn’t ask he could remain blissfully in the dark, holding his love. His love? Bran stared at the television as his eyes blurred momentarily. No, no, no, backup, just back the fuck up. When had this happened? Sure he enjoyed Ian’s company more than anyone else’s and the sex was fantastic, but love? Okay, maybe it wasn’t love, maybe the word just popped into his head, maybe… “Who’s winning,” Ian asked. “Huh?” Bran’s mind was going a mile a minute and he had absolutely no idea what Ian was talking about. “The game, who’s winning?” Ian leaned back and looked up at him. Bran’s eyes flashed back to the screen. “I’m not sure to be honest.” Come on, think. “I was, uh, just enjoying the feel of you in my arms.” And that was the really fucked up part, because he was enjoying the feel of Ian, maybe too much. Kissing Ian’s forehead, Bran rubbed his back. “Feeling better?” “Yeah, there are a few things I need to get finished before my meeting. Would it be okay if I took you home?” Now that didn’t sound like Ian at all. Normally, he would have asked Bran to just chill out and watch television, maybe go on to bed without him with promises of joining him later. Fuck, something was really wrong. Suddenly, Bran wanted to get out, get away. “I’ll call a cab.” “No, I’m well enough to take you.” Ian gave Bran a kiss. “Please, let me drive you home and give you a kiss goodnight.”

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There was something in Ian’s eyes that Bran couldn’t decipher. He finally nodded and started getting dressed without another word. Pulling up in front of his downtown apartment, Bran turned to Ian. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because I can follow you home if you’d like me to.” “I’m fine,” Ian said and leaned in for a kiss. “There’s just something very important that I need to finish before morning.” Bran ran his knuckles over Ian’s jaw. He kissed him one last time, dipping his tongue inside for a quick taste before opening the flimsy jeep door. “I’ll see you. Try to get some sleep tonight.” “I will.” Bran was about to shut the door when Ian hollered at him, “Hey, Bran?” “Yes,” Bran said, sticking his head back inside the vehicle. “I love you.” With a lump the size of Texas in his throat, Bran gave a short nod. “Thank you.” He shut the door and walked towards his building with unshed tears in his eyes. “Fuck,” he said, walking through the doors.

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Chapter Seven

Standing in the shower, Bran rubbed his tear swollen eyes. He’d spent an entire night arguing with himself over Ian. Finally, at about four a.m. he came to terms with his feelings. He was in love. For only the second time in his life he knew what it was like to love someone. But even as he thought it, he realised it was the first time someone had ever truly loved him back. The Tisdales had wanted a child, but if they’d truly loved him like their own, they wouldn’t have given him back up to foster care. No, Ian’s love was the real thing. It made Bran feel stronger, not weaker. Ian gave him everything a person could ask for in a partner and yet refused to burden Bran when he needed him the most. Even though he wasn’t Ian’s physician any longer, he could still help. Bran knew how to take care of a patient, he’d make damn sure Ian got the treatment he deserved and Bran would be there, ready to take care of him at the end of the day. With his new resolve in place, Bran turned off the water and got ready for work. He needed to talk to Dan Briggs. Bran wanted to know exactly what they were facing before finding Ian. He wanted Ian’s questions to be answered by him, not a doctor he’d only met in passing. Picking up his keys from the table, Bran opened his apartment door and was surprised to find two packages. As soon as he saw the brown paper wrapped presents he knew what they were. Ian’s surprise had been paintings. How late had he stayed up to finish them? Taking the pictures into his living room, Bran saw an envelope attached to one. Swallowing, he tore it off and opened it. Deciding it would be better to sit, Bran walked over and fell into a chair as he read.

My Dearest Bran, Let me start by telling you that I love you. I’ll always love you no matter what happens between us. That said, I need to tell you the phone call I received at the bar was Dr. Briggs. A shadow showed up on my CT scan. It’s in the right lower part of the lung and I’m having an outpatient needle biopsy performed at eleven o’clock at St. Mark’s Hospital.

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I know even as I write this that me getting sick is a deal-breaker for you. But before you decide, please open the two pictures. As you might have guessed I finished them during the night. There’s a catch, you can only hang one. The path you wish to follow will be a choice only you can make. Remember, I’ll love you forever, Ian

Bran wiped his eyes and picked up the first painting marked number one. Tearing the paper off, his breath caught in his chest as he gazed upon a beautifully done water colour of his beach. A close likeness of him and Ian huddled under a blanket kissing. Smiling he dared to touch and was happy to find it dry. He traced Ian’s likeness with his finger, remembering the sunrise they’d gotten up early to witness. The kisses had led to stumbling back to the house to make love for hours. Curious, he unwrapped the second painting. The image was a shock, tearing his heart out of his chest. Same beach, but this time there was a lone figure huddled under the blanket, looking lost and alone. It was him, that day Ian came to find him. Looking at the picture, Bran suddenly remembered the bottle he’d found that day. More than the bottle, he remembered the note and the necklace. He needed to get that necklace. Jumping up, Bran looked at his watch. He’d barely have enough time to get to the beach house and back, but he could do it if the traffic gods smiled on him. Bran picked up one of the paintings and left the apartment.

**** Here he was again, back in the same hospital, wearing the same ill-fitting dressing gown. Ian’s hands were sweating as he listened to his pulmonologist, Dr. Cheaver, explain the procedure. When Ian met with Dr. Briggs earlier that day he’d been told he’d need a ride home. Unwilling to call Bran, Ian figured he’d just call a cab after he was released. On his way out of the office, Nancy, the receptionist, stopped him, telling him that Bran had called in and was on his way to the coast. Since hearing that, Ian hadn’t cared much about anything. Ian

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gave his head a shake. He wouldn’t do this to himself. It was Bran’s problem, not his. A small part of him kept expecting Bran to run through the door, ready to declare his undying love. Yeah right. Dr. Cheaver asked him if he had any questions, and Ian realised he hadn’t been listening. “I’m sorry did you tell me how long it would take before we know the results?” Ian asked. The doctor smiled and squeezed Ian’s shoulder. “The biopsy normally takes two to four days to analyze but I’ll see if I can get a rush on it. You’ve been through a lot already. It could be absolutely nothing to worry about, Ian.” “Yeah, I know.”

**** Bran was about to pull his hair out as he waited for the accident to clear. He read the note he’d retrieved from the bottle once more.

A stone that’s blessed by lovers’ hands To bless the wearer with a love that stands. Through time and toil, no stopping fate As lovers unite, no hand can break. So take this token and wear it true, Destiny awaits with love for you. A favour I ask from you to me Once blessed return my gift to the sea. For others await the hand of fate My blessing to love’s true mates. Fingering the stone that hung around his neck, Bran prayed for the magical gift to work. He brought it to his lips and kissed it once more, hoping the love he was putting into the silver entwined stone would find its way to Ian. Grabbing his cell phone, he called the

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hospital and talked with the outpatient nurse he’d talked with twenty minutes ago. Ian should be out within the next ten or so. He looked at the dash clock. Making a quick decision, Bran pulled his car into the parking lot he’d been sitting beside for the past thirty minutes. Locking up, he took off towards the hospital on foot at a steady jog. Luckily the hospital was only about two miles away. By the time he reached the outpatient information desk, Bran was out of breath and sweaty. He flashed the woman his hospital security badge. “I’m Dr. Ryan and I’d like to speak with Phyllis in outpatient recovery.” The clerk picked up the phone. She hung up the phone and smiled. “You can go on back, Dr. Ryan.” Bran was through the swinging doors before she even finished her sentence. “Phyllis, how is he?” She laughed and pointed towards a curtained off area. “Grouchy, please cheer him up.” Taking a deep breath, Bran kissed the stone around his neck once more before walking around the edge of the curtain. Ian was awake, but still a little groggy. Bran knew they hadn’t put him completely under to perform the biopsy, but it appeared they’d given him some good relaxants. “Hey,” he said standing at the foot of Ian’s narrow gurney. “What are you doing here? I was told you’d gone to the beach.” Ian’s eyes were huge and questioning. “I did. I had a couple things I needed to take care of. I hung up your picture. They’re beautiful by the way.” Bran slowly moved to Ian’s side. “Thanks. Uh, which one did you hang?” Ian asked, grasping the blanket. “The one with me alone.” “Oh.” Bran watched as Ian’s face turned solemn. “I hung that one to remind myself every time I looked at it, what life would be like if I didn’t have you in it.” Bran knelt beside the gurney putting him eye level with Ian. Reaching out he held Ian’s hand. “I love you, Ian. You’re mine and I’m not giving you up again, no matter how scared I get. Whatever this shadow is, I’ll be right beside you.”

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Bran knew they looked like two blubbering idiots by the time the nurse peeked her head around the curtain. “Dr. Cheaver will be in to speak with you in a moment.” She smiled at the two of them before leaving. Bran kissed Ian, passing over his strength and belief that everything would be all right. Ian broke the kiss and touched the dangling necklace. “What’s this?” Bran smiled, “It’s my good luck charm. I know it works because it brought me to you. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

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Chapter Eight

Once released, Bran drove him straight to the beach house. Ian had strict instructions to stay in bed and sleep for the rest of the day and he and Bran couldn’t think of a better place than their big bed that overlooked the water. “I can’t wait to get a look at the bottle,” Ian said, unrolling the faded paper Bran had found in said bottle. Ian looked over and saw Bran fingering the necklace again. “It’s weird because when I read the note the first time, it didn’t quite register. But then after seeing your paintings…I don’t know, something just clicked.” Bran pointed to the note. “I wish I knew who wrote it, I’d like to send them a bottle of champagne.” Looking at the piece of paper, Ian shook his head. “My guess is whoever wrote this is long gone. This thing has to be over a hundred years old. You should probably give it to a museum somewhere along with the necklace and bottle.” “Can’t,” Bran said, shaking his head, “it says right in the note that when you’ve found your true love you have to return it to the sea. I know it’s a little unbelievable that a man in the science field would believe in all this fate, hocus pocus stuff. And I’ll admit, in the beginning I was just grasping for anything to help lead me to you, but after what Cheever’s said, I don’t know. I could almost swear my neck began tingling where the necklace touched my skin.” Bran shook his head. “It could be nothing more than the power of suggestion, but whatever it is, this necklace is special. I thought the two of us could watch the sunrise in the morning and set it afloat together. It seems like the right thing to do.” “You think someone else will get as lucky as we’ve been?” Ian reached across the console and brushed his knuckles down Bran’s cheek. The spot on his lung they’d been so worried about turned out to be a small pocket of pneumonia. With medication, his pulmonologist thought it would clear up just fine. The best thing to come out of the entire ordeal was Bran’s love and support. Bran caught Ian’s hand and kissed his fingers. “We’ll have a long life together, yeah?” “Absolutely. Although you’re a few years older than I am so you’ll have to start taking better care of yourself.” Ian grinned.

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“Ha, I’ll have you know I ran almost two miles today,” Bran chuckled. Ian smiled. They’d had to take a cab to the parking lot where Bran had left his car. It had been nice though. Even if it was only two miles, it was time spent safely ensconced in Bran’s arms. “When we get to the house, I’m going to put you to bed and run to the store. I’ll check on you after you’ve had a good nap. You need at least three more hours of relative inactivity to give your lung time to heal from the procedure.” Bran ran his hand down Ian’s thigh. “Believe me, you’re going to need all the sleep you can get because I plan on still being awake when the sun comes up.” “Thank God it’ll be Saturday. You know, we really do have to start working full work weeks again,” Ian teased. “Yeah, maybe if we lived together we’d see enough of each other that we wouldn’t have to skip work.” Ian’s head snapped towards Bran. “You serious?” Bran nodded his head. “I thought maybe we could stay at your house during the week and come out here on the weekends. If you want to that is?” “What do you think?” Ian laughed and shook his head. “I’d live under a blanket on the beach as long as I could be with you.” “Good, then we’ve got a plan.”

**** Bran bought some silver polish at the store and spent a good amount of time cleaning the silver chain and spiralled cage that wrapped the green stone. The more he studied the necklace, the more he realised it was handmade. Probably by whoever threw it into the ocean. He hated to give it back, but he realised it wasn’t his to keep. His treasure was sound asleep in the room down the hall. Bran would never tell Ian just how thankful he was the shadow turned out to be treatable. He loved Ian like his own life and he would have stood by and helped him through

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anything, but Bran also knew it would have killed him. Hopefully by the time they were old, it would be easier to know their lives were coming to an end. Closing his eyes, Bran shook his head. No, it will never be easy to say goodbye to Ian. At least he finally figured out that to dwell on the death was to kill the life. He’d treat each day as a special day because it was one more that he’d been blessed with. A cough sounded from down the hall and Bran quickly put away the necklace and cleaning supplies. After a quick wash-up, he headed down the hall and stuck his head into the bedroom. Ian was in that blinky, waking up stage. “Hey, you,” Bran said pushing off the door jam. He took off his clothes and crawled under the covers. Pulling his man into his arms, Bran kissed him. Ian always tasted like autumn, spicy and sweet. “Mmm, you taste good.” “You feel good,” Ian said, running his hand over Bran’s chest and down towards his cock. “Are you all done sleeping? Because I’ve been waiting to play all afternoon.” He thrust towards Ian’s questing hand. “Oh have you?” Ian grasped Bran’s cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, eliciting a moan from Bran. “Briggs ran another HIV test yesterday.” “I had one, too,” Bran said, rolling so Ian was on top of him. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours?” He asked, shrugging his eyebrows. Ian grinned and ground his cock against Bran’s. “My wallet’s clear on the other side of the room. I’ve already told you I haven’t been with anyone but you since finding out about the cancer and you’ve said it’s been almost that long for you. Just tell me whether or not you’re good to go. I trust you,” he winked. “God we’re going to save so much money on condoms,” Bran groaned as Ian suckled on his earlobe. “We’ll make up for it in lube,” Ian snickered as he reached towards the bedside drawer. Ian handed Bran the tube and straddled his lap, positioning himself on his knees, giving Bran a clear shot of that beautiful ass. Slicking his fingers, Bran pulled Ian’s head down for a kiss as he rimmed that perfectly puckered hole.

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“Oh,” Ian moaned, opening wide. “So sexy,” Bran crooned, tapping against Ian’s hole until his finger pushed inside. The slide of Bran’s finger had Ian’s muscles bunching. “So pretty.” “More,” Ian begged, pushing back against Bran’s hand. Bran grinned and added another finger. He sought the smooth walnut-sized gland and brushed it with his fingertip. “Ahhh,” Ian moaned. “Now, please.” Removing his fingers, Bran wiped the excess lube down the length of his shaft and held the base of his cock as Ian impaled himself. Goddamn, Bran felt like he’d discovered the secret to life. It was his first time being inside Ian since the acknowledgement to himself that yes, he did in fact know how to love. Knowing Ian should still be taking it easy, Bran tried to slow Ian’s ride. His man wasn’t having it though and shook his head. Apparently he knew what Bran was worried about. “I’m fine, Bran. I feel freaking fantastic.” Ian arched his back, putting his arms behind him on Bran’s thighs. This new position left Ian’s cock totally exposed to Bran’s gaze. Yummy. Bran watched the long cock bob and slap at Ian’s stomach, leaving dewy kisses painted on those washboard abs. Flashing forward twenty years, Bran could easily see the two of them in this same position. He smiled to himself. They were going to be okay. A life spent together was all that mattered to him. A loud cry from Ian, and that pretty cock started shooting, decorating both their chests with seed. “Fuck that’s beautiful,” Bran said looking into Ian’s eyes. Bran thrust up before pulling Ian’s hips snug against his groin. Buried as deep as possible, he came sans condom in someone for the first time in his life. The fact that it was the only person he’d ever make love to made it even more erotic to Bran. “Love you,” he said, pulling a panting Ian down into his arms. “I love you,” Ian replied, eyes drooping. Bran knew he’d told Ian he was planning to keep him up all night, but he wasn’t that cruel and he knew Ian hadn’t slept the night before. Bran yawned. Damn, come to think of it, he hadn’t slept the night before either. “Quick nap,” he muttered.

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Ian was already snuggled up, face buried in the area between Bran’s neck and shoulder. Bran was still buried inside Ian, but he knew he’d slip free any time. Wanting to fall asleep, surrounded by his lover, Bran closed his eyes and let his dreams take him.

**** “You got the thermos?” Bran asked, grabbing the blanket and the bottle. “Yeah, are we gonna just share a cup?” Ian said, thermos in hand. “I don’t know. I know where your mouth’s been,” Bran kissed him and grinned. “Come on. I want to do this thing as the sun comes up.” “Okay, Mr. Grouchy pants.” Ian followed Bran out the door. Despite his pout, Ian felt like he was walking on air. He’d gotten the one thing he couldn’t live without, Bran’s love. Now, he could face the future, uncertainty and all. Bran set the blanket down and reached for Ian’s hand. Dropping the thermos beside the blanket, Ian walked with Bran out to the surf. “You sure you want to do this? You’ve become awfully attached to that necklace.” “Yes. I told you, it’s not the necklace the bottle gives you, but the strength to go after your heart. I’ve found the man for me, now it’s someone else’s turn.” Bran made sure the cork was securely fastened inside the bottle neck. The necklace wrapped safely within the rolled paper. Giving the old scarred glass a kiss for luck, Bran reared back and threw the bottle as far out into the water as he could. “Find another lonely soul.”

About the Author An avid reader for years, one day Carol Lynne decided to write her own brand of erotic romance. Carol juggles between being a full-time mother and a full-time writer. These days, you can usually find Carol either cleaning jelly out of the carpet or nestled in her favourite chair writing steamy love scenes. Email: [email protected] Carol loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Carol Lynne Campus Cravings: Coach Campus Cravings: Side-Lined Campus Cravings: Sacking the Quarterback Campus Cravings: Off-Season Campus Cravings: Forbidden Freshman Campus Cravings: Broken Pottery Campus Cravings: Office Advances Campus Cravings: A Biker’s Vow Good Time Boys: Sonny’s Salvation Good-time Boys: Garron’s Gift Good-time Boys: Rawley’s Redemption Good-time Boys: Twin Temptations Cattle Valley: All Play & No Work Cattle Valley: Cattle Valley Mistletoe Cattle Valley: Sweet Topping Cattle Valley: Rough Ride Cattle Valley: Physical Therapy Karaoke at the Tumbleweed

A LEGEND ACCOMPLISHED Brynn Paulin

Dedication To the newest Tartlet. I’m glad you joined us.

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Chapter One

Northern England, Present Day Legend has it that long, long ago, a great knight fell in love with a fair maiden. He took her to wife and together they lived in his great keep high on a hill overlooking the ocean… Emily Harteger looked up from the text she’d just scrawled in her notebook, glancing around her as a powerful wave surged up the shore and puddled around her bare feet. She smiled, the warmth of familiarity creeping over her. Before long, the water would surround the stone where she sat. How many times had that happened when she’d been distracted? She blinked. What was she thinking? That had never happened to her. She’d never been to this beach before today. Being here was like déjà vu or something equally weird. For the last fifteen minutes, it had seemed as if she’d finally arrived home. She knew this place. Everything was familiar— the crash of the waves on the rocks jutting from the ocean. The trees lining the shore. The castle overshadowing the beach as it stood high above her on a rocky hill. Even the wind seemed to carry a familiar scent of ocean and wood smoke. Yet she’d never been here. She’d never been out of the United States before this week. She looked up at the shadowy castle, wondering if the interior would be as she’d seen it in her head. Likely not. She was just a romance writer with an overactive imagination. Wasn’t it that imagination that had drawn her here to the northern shores of England? Another wave engulfed her ankles while she watched the water hypnotically lap at the shore. She breathed in the heady scent of the salty sea air and closed her eyes. This was the sort of place where Ailig and Emma, the hero and heroine of her latest novel, had fallen in love. She imagined what it had been like for young Emma when she’d fallen in love with Ailig. Emily could see her sitting on this rock, waiting for him to arrive so they could have a few stolen moments before her parents realised she was missing. “My love,” he’d whisper as he knelt beside her knees and cupped her cheek with his work-roughened hand.

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Emily jerked as her imagining became so vivid she felt his hand. Her eyes popped open, and she choked back a surprised scream as she stared into a pair of dark blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, his voice a deep rumble of concern. “The tide is coming in, and I was afraid you’d fallen asleep.” Hastily, she stuffed her notebook in the bag beside her and yanked the tote’s strap up her shoulder. “I’m fine. Thanks.” She attempted to smile and soften her snapped words. She didn’t mean to be abrupt. It was just— He was the very embodiment of the man she’d envisioned as Ailig. Tall and sturdy with dark brown hair and blue eyes. Full lips, prominent cheekbones, muscles made to make a girl feel safe…he had it all. Granted his hair was shorter than Ailig’s whose hair fell to his shoulder blades, but aside from that difference and the modern jeans with a knit shirt, he could be her knight. She scrambled over the flat rock to drier ground as another wave headed to them. It washed over his bare feet, dampening the bottom of his jeans. “I appreciate your concern,” she said as he followed her at a more sedate pace. “I was just…thinking. I’m a writer. We spend a lot of time thinking.” And babbling apparently. One side of his mouth turned up as he stepped closer. “I’m glad you’ve finally come.” He leaned forward, pressing his firm lips to hers. Home. Nirvana. The embodiment of many dreams. Emily groaned as the warm shroud of familiarity she’d felt since arriving here wrapped around her. Where she should have felt terror or indignation instead she felt complete rightness and belonging. What was happening to her? Her fingers curled into his soft shirt as her eyes closed and her lips opened to him. Shouldn’t she shove him away? Shouldn’t she run? This is right, her brain whispered. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed into his embrace and the familiar strength of his body. She moaned as his tongue delved inside bringing the taste of peppermint and coffee. He used to taste of mead, she thought. Mead? Where did that come from? What the hell did mead taste like anyway? Over and over he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. One hand splayed on her back while the other cupped her breast, finding the nipple and plucking the beaded peak. Emily trembled as desire swept her away. Ribbons of pleasure twisted their way to her core. His cock throbbed against her belly. She wanted him. She wanted that cock inside her. Ailig…

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Wait! Emily’s eyes shot open and she shoved away from the man. She stumbled a few feet backward and out of his reach. “Are you high?” she exclaimed. Was she? This wasn’t Ailig and she sure wasn’t Emma. It was just her overactive imagination that attributed the features of her book’s hero to this man and it was familiarity and ease of writing which had made her give her own features to the heroine including her tendency to have visions. All her foster parents had found that aptitude disconcerting and she’d learned young to keep it to herself but it didn’t stop her from giving such traits to her characters. Or using it on occasions like this. Calmly, he regarded her. He shrugged as if his action—their action—was completely normal. “I saw you here and knew I had to kiss you. You’re on my beach, by the way.” “Yours?” No wait, idiot. You’re supposed to call him on kissing you not question his ownership of the beach! She glanced over her shoulder, gauging how far it was to the place where she’d parked. She could probably sprint back to her car. And he could probably catch her if he wanted to. She wasn’t in that great of shape and he looked…perfect. She bit back an infatuated-girly sigh. She was twenty-six for God’s sake. He didn’t seem poised to chase her, however, as he calmly studied her. He jerked his head towards the castle. “I own the bed and breakfast.” “The castle?” “Yes. Would you like to see it?” God, wouldn’t she? It would be a dream. But he was a stranger and this was the middle of nowhere. Was she too stupid to live or what? Okay, she’d been to one too many writers’ conferences. She wasn’t a heroine. This wasn’t about walking into a dimly lit basement with a killer on the loose. This was a guy. And every instinct within told her to trust him. Her instincts had never been wrong. Never. He wouldn’t harm her. He didn’t want to harm her. He didn’t harm people. “Why do you ask?” He shrugged. “Most Americans seem to like castles. I thought you might like to see it. And I want to get to know you.” He laughed. “We did kiss. You can ring your girlfriends to tell them where you’re going. You’ll be safe.”

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“Girlfriends? Why do you assume I’m not here with a man? My husband could be waiting for me at the hotel.” He raised an eyebrow. Damn, she loved men who could do that. Turning away from her, he went back to the rock and retrieved her black Airwalk shoes before they were swept away by the ocean. He held them out to her. “And you kissed me like that? I think not. You’re not married…or so I surmise from your lack of ring. That would leave a boyfriend. He’d be a fool to let you wander free, and apparently unsatisfying, too. But you don’t strike me as the type to cheat. Am I right?” “Yeah,” she replied, then promptly kicked herself for being so disgustingly honest. Did she want to invite danger? “So that leaves girlfriends. Or possibly family.” She bit the inside of her lip to keep from telling him she was alone on her trip. “I need to get back to my hotel.” He looked away, but not before she saw the disappointment in his eyes. He gave a single nod, then looked back to her. He held out his hand. “It was very nice to meet you.” The bottom twisted out of her stomach, tears pricking her eyes. Suddenly it seemed she was leaving behind something imperative to her future happiness. Forcing a smile, she shook his hand, ignoring the shock that rode up her arm, then sprinted up the embankment to her car.

Alec Woods watched the woman rush away and steeled himself against the urge to chase her. When he’d seen her earlier…he’d known she was the one for whom he’d waited so long. Unlike many, his first word had not been ‘mama’ or ‘dada’ like many infants. It had been ‘Emma’. Thankfully, his mother was a firm believer of past lives and their influence over current incarnations. She’d written down all his childish ramblings about his former life as a knight, his adventure, who he’d served, and most importantly about his lost love. She’d never said anything about this, secreting away her notes until he was much older and had forgotten all the things he’d told her. Then when he’d reached his mid-teens, she’d encouraged him to be regressed. He’d recalled many lifetimes. In all there had been something missing. A hole in his happiness. Someone who should have been at his side.

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When he’d finally remembered his life with Emma, he’d known. That life was the root of all things he’d felt lost to him in the lifetimes between. He’d written everything he could remember. That was when his mother had shared her journal. And he’d had hope. Surely Emma would come to him. That had to be the reason he’d finally remembered. The time was now. Perhaps that was all fantasy. Wouldn’t Emma recognise him too when she saw him? He’d known her immediately when he’d seen her perched on the rock and staring out at the sea that had once taken her life. Yet she’d stared at him like a stranger. Hands deep in his pockets, he headed back to the castle, picking his way along the rocky path up the hill. Obviously, he’d been mistaken. The woman bore striking resemblance to Emma, but it wasn’t her soul. It couldn’t be. Reaching the castle, he went through the stone gate and into the courtyard that was now the back entry to the castle. Years ago, an ancestor had made a huge addition to the other end of the structure, creating a new entrance. That portion housed most of the bed and breakfast while the original portion housed the Wood family. “Alec!” He turned as his mother, Viola, waylaid him on the way to his private apartments. She glided towards him as ethereal as ever. Born of gypsy stock, she still had pure black hair which cascaded to her waist. A bohemian skirt and blouse swirled around her while jewellery adorned both wrists, her neck, ears and every finger. Barefoot as usual, Vi clicked a toe ring on the stone floor as she walked. “Darling, I’ve been thinking—” She tilted her head. “What is it? Have you gotten bad news?” “No. It’s nothing.” Vi studied him, her toe clicking on floor. Sometimes it seemed she could see right through him. He squirmed wondering how long it would be before he could escape to his quarters. No one controlled him—no one except Vi. He figured that was because of his respect and love for her, a single mother who’d raised him alone since he’d been two and turned the bed and breakfast into a thriving livelihood. “What were you thinking, mum?” he asked hoping to hurry along the scrutiny.

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“You’ve seen her,” Vi said suddenly. “And she didn’t recognise you. Oh sweetling. Not everyone has our sight.” He shook his head. “I was mistaken. It wasn’t her.” She made a noncommittal sound while she examined her thumb ring. That was just like Vi. She thought he was dead wrong, but she wouldn’t say so. “Whatever you say,” she finally replied. “Darling, since it’s the off-season, Max and I are thinking of heading for Scotland for a spell. I have this inkling that I’d like to photograph the scenery in Rannoch.” “Didn’t you do that last year?” “Yes but your stepfather is indulging me. Actually, I want to visit the bed and breakfast there and check out some of our competition.” Though he now owned and managed their business, Vi still kept her hand very much in the middle of things. “Good idea,” he said. Right now, he’d rather be alone. He didn’t want her hovering over her ‘sweetling’. Next thing he’d know she’d make some of her soy and carob chip cookies. He kissed her on the cheek. “Have fun. How long will you be gone?” “Just a week. I can stay if you need me. You must be upset.” “I’m fine. Have fun. Don’t forget to call me when you get there.” He headed towards his quarters. Suddenly, he turned back. “Max is driving, right?” he asked, recalling the incident on her last trip that could only be called bovine road rage. The cow had won, destroying Vi’s car. “Of course, darling.” Shaking his head, he slipped from the main hall and into the antechamber behind it. A set of steps there led to his office in the tower—his tower, actually. In all there were six. Two large ones like this one and four smaller. He could literally feel his ancestors here. This was where Ailig had once done his work and met with townspeople. Ailig’s younger brother had taken over the castle and Ailig’s duties after his death, starting a long succession chain of Bennetts who had occupied the Bennett castle until the generation when there had only been a daughter who had married a merchant named Woods. He knew the entire history. His studies told him it was odd to be born back into the same family even generations later. He’d taken that as a sign as well. Today’s events, however, shook him. What if everything he’d always believed had been wrong? He’d been standing at one of the large windows in his office that had been added during the last century when he’d seen her. The long strands of her dark brown hair had

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whipped about her ivory-skinned face until she’d tied it back. For a time, she’d sat on the flat rock with her knees drawn up while she stared at the water. That hair. That profile. Her entire figure. When she’d lowered her legs to the ground, he’d fled from the window, tearing through the castle and down the path to the shore as quickly as he could for fear she’d leave before he spoke to her. His cousin Toby would laugh his ass off if he’d seen it. Of course, Toby had never had interest in a woman. Alec missed him. They’d been close since childhood and Alec would have liked to discuss this with him. But Toby had moved to the United States after university. Toby would tell him to stop being thick. Alec shook his head and sat behind the heavy oak desk at the far side of the chamber. He’d made a mistake. Even so it gutted him. He looked at the stack of paperwork on his desk. He’d be useless to complete it. They didn’t have any guests this time of year. Perhaps he should take a trip as well. It had been a bit since he’d been to the continent. Or perhaps he could fly over and see Toby—he remembered the woman’s American accent. Perhaps not. Bad idea.

**** For the twentieth time since she’d returned, Emily tried rereading what she’d written on her manuscript that morning. Again, her mind drifted to the man she’d met on the beach. He hadn’t meant her any harm, and she did want to know him better. Seeing the castle was definitely secondary. What would he think if she showed up on his doorstep? He’d seemed so disappointed when she’d said no to seeing the castle—as disappointed as she still felt. Yet he hadn’t tried to convince or coerce her. They’d been on a deserted beach. If he’d wanted to harm her, he would have had ample opportunity. So what did that make her? An overly suspicious American who’d grown up in a big city? Just about. She couldn’t help being suspicious. When she’d been abandoned to foster care at five because her parents had had better things to do and her relatives had been just as busy, it hadn’t instilled much trust in her soul. She wanted to trust. Her therapist had told her it was fear of abandonment that kept her from investing in relationships. She’d fired him before he dumped her for being too crazy.

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Now she wrote about romances, true love and happily ever afters. How insane was that? She invested in characters who would never leave and who were so in love, they’d do anything for each other. She wanted that kind of love. Perhaps the instant attraction she’d felt to the man on the beach pointed to that. She’d never experienced that before. Sure, she’d had fleeting relationships with other men, but their allure had never been so quick or strong. Was that what the heroes and heroines in her books faced? “Emily, what in the hell is wrong with you?” she muttered. “Your instincts tell you he’s safe. Your hormones tell you he’s the one. And you’re running? Idiot.” Fine. Turning off her computer, she stowed it in its case and stuffed her notes in the side pocket. Gathering her purse and a sweater as well, she headed out to her car and locked her laptop in the trunk. She’d go and see the castle, talk to the guy from the beach then stop at the café in town and write for a bit. The drive to the castle went more quickly than she wanted it to. Nerves welled in her middle while prickles crawled up her back. Parked in the small lot to one side of the gate, she stared up at the sprawling brown and grey stone structure, taking in the huge towers and lofty walls. After the familiarity of the beach, she expected the same tingles now. Instead she felt a bland interest in seeing a historic monument. As the man had said, Americans seemed interested in castles. She couldn’t speak for others, but she sure was. She’d been intrigued by them and the middle ages for as long as she could remember. So are you going in, or are you going to stare at it all day? Fighting her nerves, she grabbed her purse and got out of the car. Her knees wobbly, she headed through the huge gate and approached the massive front door. Wood and iron, it was as imposing as the high stone walls. An incongruous intercom box had been installed in the wall beside it. Before she lost her nerve, she pressed the small white call button. And waited. It was a big place. How long should she wait? Should she ring again? Should she admit she was insane and just head to the café in town? Just as she decided to turn away, the door slowly swung open and she was again staring into deep blue eyes. “Do you always kiss strangers on your beach?” she asked. Nice opening, Emily. Jesus!

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He smiled. “No, never.” The tingles of awareness returned and she felt them trickle into her pussy. It was a damned good thing she was wearing thick jeans. However, her T-shirt suddenly felt snug, especially over her breasts. She didn’t dare look down to see if her nipples were saluting him. She feared they were. “Then why?” she asked. “You came here to ask that?” Was it her imagination or was that relief in his eyes? “I came for the tour you offered.” He held out his hand. “Then, come inside.” Her vision grew fuzzy when she touched him, and for a moment, she saw another man dressed in a dark green tunic and a black embroidered belt—a belt she’d felt around her wrists. Then the vision cleared and she again saw her host. “This is the newer portion of the castle,” he said. “Built in the sixteen hundreds. This section is two times the size of the main keep. This portion has four towers that are used as rooms for our bed and breakfast borders. Of course, in keeping with architecture at that time, there are numerous rooms on this floor and each of the other two floors.” She looked around seeing the ornate, stately décor that she’d expect to see in a castle. It was gorgeous, yet mysterious with its numerous doors and two stairways leading to other portions of the castle. The part of her who’d always wanted to be a princess longed to explore the hidden nooks and crannies of this place and discover its secrets. But nothing was familiar. She didn’t get so much as a vague vibration. It was nothing like she’d written. “Would you like to see more of this part, or would you like to see the main keep first. That’s where my family lives.” “Family?” If he was married, she’d kick him in the balls then she was outta here. “My mum, stepfather and I,” he answered. His thumb stroked her cheek as if he’d heard her thoughts. “No worries, love. I’ve no wife and kiddies hidden away.” His other hand tightened around hers. “Come along. I think the main keep is more interesting anyway.” She nodded and he led her down a long hallway to a partially ajar door. If he’d come this far to answer her ring, no wonder he’d taken so long. Pushing it open, he pulled her into

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a cavernous room. Recollection hit Emily like a sledgehammer to the gut. The air burst from her and her knees buckled as she went down, sharp pain running through her. “Bollocks!” her host exclaimed, catching her before she hit the ground. “Oh love,” he whispered. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to a couch on one end of the great hall. The furniture looked out of place to her, for she remembered a dais and long trundle tables with heavy chairs and benches. Taking her purse, he placed it on a coffee table beside the couch then knelt down beside her. Carefully, he felt her forehead. She wasn’t sick. She struggled under the weight of the double planes of reality before her eyes. “What’s happening?” she murmured. “I suspect you’re remembering.” She shook her head. “No. I need to leave.” Panic filled his gaze. “You’ll be all right. Perhaps a glass of water would help.” Emily doubted it, but she nodded. As soon as he left the hall—somehow she knew it was to go to the kitchens—she stumbled to her feet and headed for the hallway that lead to the front door. It took half a second to realise she’d gone through the wrong doorway. Her dizziness had receded slightly, but the knot of recognition pulled strong at her lungs. She could barely breathe as she glanced around the dim antechamber. A set of narrow stairs to the side beckoned her and she followed the call. She entered a large chamber containing a heavy dark oak desk. The room had been walled off to divide it, but this was the place Ailig had called his thinking room. And those stairs would lead to Emma’s solar. She followed them, finding another divided chamber and another set of stairs…to the bed chamber. The bed chamber was just as it was in her dreams. A large wood bed with thick posters dominated the centre of the chamber. Stumbling forward, she placed her hand on one tall poster, splaying her hand over the wide expanse of wood. The place where Emma and Ailig had made love… How could it be? That was only a dream. A writer’s fantasy to put on the pages of a manuscript to please a reader. “Emma!”

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She heard the voice as if in a dream and turned to see Ailig standing in the doorway of the chamber, worry on his face. “I’d thought you’d left.” She shook her head. “Make love to me.” “Are you sure?” “I’ve missed you. I need you. It’s been too long.” He came to her, pulling off his clothes while she removed hers as well. Home. This was home. He was home. And she’d been lost for so long. She gasped at the pleasure that flooded her when he pulled her into his arms. His lips covered hers in a frenzy, exploring her mouth, claiming it, taking possession. She clung to his wide shoulders, feeling the light abrasion of his sparse chest hair against her nipples. Arousal filled her pussy with hot liquid as she burned for him, her womb clenching and her body trembling. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her then placed his knee on the bed, laying her upon the mattress. An instant later, his thick arousal prodded at her opening. “Yes,” she cried as the wide head stretched her as he worked his way into her tight channel. “More,” she groaned. “All of you.” “Bloody hell, yes,” he rasped, his hips thrusting forward. Her scream tore through the tower as he hit the back of her sheath, sending a bolt of wild sensation scraping through her. Tears filled her eyes. It was so good. So right. She’d waited forever… Driven by need, she bucked against his hips trying for more of him as he pistoned in and out of her, every thick ridge of him rubbing against her sensitive walls. Her nails dug into his shoulders as his head tilted back. “Oh God…” she cried as her body began to convulse around him. Shards of electric sensation raced through her. “Yes, love! Emma!” he gasped, his hips still pumping. A moment later, he froze deep inside her, his cum filling her in hot spurting ribbons. They collapsed together on the bed. He cradled her against his chest while she listened to his thundering heart. She trailed her fingers along the thin line of hair on his chest, the recollection still tightly wrapped around her. As he stroked her back, she sighed as reality poked her. Good lord, she was naked with a stranger. She’d just fucked a stranger! Of all the times to lose her mind. “My name’s not Emma,” she murmured. “I know, love. At least, I didn’t figure it was. Mine’s not Ailig either. Not anymore.”

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Ailig? She pushed up on her elbow. “What did you say?” “I’m not Ailig. Anymore.” “How do you know about him? No one has read my notes…” “You’re researching the middle ages?” He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb over her still taut nipple. Her thoughts muddled and she struggled to work her way through the layers of arousal to make clear-headed conversation. All she wanted to do was to sink under his spell again. “I’m writing a book. A romance novel. That’s what I do.” Comprehension filled his gaze. “And your hero and heroine are Ailig and Emma? How far are you in the story? Have you gotten to the part where Emma drowns while Ailig is on a mission for King Henry.” She sat up, horror shafting through her. “What! I would never kill a character.” “They’re not characters. They’re history.” He got up from the bed. Swallowing the desire which rose at the sight of his muscled buttocks, she watched him go to a wardrobe across the room. Things had spiralled far out of hand. She needed to get out of here. He removed a large black robe and brought it back to her. Returning, he handed it to her. “I have something you should see.”

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Chapter Two

Emily held the robe to her chest debating her next step. Get on her clothes and hightail it out of here, or put on the robe and look at what he wanted to show her. “Put on the robe.” She looked up at the iron-hard tone. A delighted shudder slithered down her spine at his dominance. It wasn’t fear that drove her to follow his command, but the desire to comply and please him. What on earth was that? Okay, she knew, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She’d always liked the dominating type—not bullies, just men who were in complete control of their surroundings and the situation, who made her feel safe, secure and utterly…well, dominated. To date she’d never found a man like that. Maybe that was why she’d never invested in a relationship. Ha! Take that Mr. Therapist. Careful not to trip on the hem of the robe, she let her lover lead her to the lower level which housed his office. He went immediately to the bookshelf and pulled down two thick spiral bound notebooks and another older hard bound book. He returned to the desk and sat in the chair behind the desk, setting the books on the work surface. Desire still shone in his eyes, despite his determination to share with her, and he patted his knees. “Come have a seat.” She pointed to a seat on the other side of the desk. “I could sit there and look at them.” His lips compressed and he regarded her with a raised eyebrow. Damned raised brow. Again with the dominance. Both did her in. With a sigh, she gathered up the trailing edge of the robe and padded to him. “I’m too heavy to sit on your lap.” “Hardly.” Grasping her waist, he pulled her down. “You are a naughty wench—” She heard his next words in her head, remembering them as he said them now. Perhaps you need a thrashing. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How could she know he was going to say that? And why on earth did it fill her with such anticipation? As he said it, her body wept, pouring forth the honey which longed to coat him. She bit her lip then perched on his knees. He pulled her

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back so her ass cradled his rigid cock and her knees were spread wide around his. “Lean forward and rest on the desk,” he said. Crossing her arms on the desk she did as he bid. “Which should I look at first?” she asked. “Probably, the notebooks. Start with the red one. That’s my mother’s account from thirty years ago.” She felt him watching her as she opened the one he indicated. Alec turned eight months old today. It’s strange. His first word was Emma. Emma? I had always hoped he’d say mama first. Further along she found accounts of a young Alec telling his mother about knighthood and life in the middle ages and…Emma. He insisted his name wasn’t really Alec. It was Ailig, but his mum could call him Alec if she really wanted to. He just wanted to set her straight. Emily turned and looked at him. “You’re Alec.” “I probably should have already told you that—before we slept together.” She rolled her eyes. “Emily,” she said before turning back to the notebooks, opening the second and Alec’s accounts of past life regressions. She turned to the most dog-eared section, finding more about Ailig and Emma. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. If it didn’t exactly match what she’d been writing in her notebooks and manuscript about Emma and Ailig, she’d think he was playing some sort of elaborate joke on her. As it was, her stomach was churning and her head throbbed with tension. These missives…the recollection that had hit her so hard…the instant attraction. “What does this mean?” she asked. Could she really take this at face value? Alec opened the heavy book and showed her a short passage about Sir Ailig Bennett. She shook her head, disbelief settling in. “I must have read this somewhere in school.” “Emily,” he chided. “All those details? Look at this passage? It’s less than ten lines long. A blip in history. I guarantee you, you won’t find more elsewhere. What you’ve written covers far more than this.” “Maybe,” she hedged, unwilling to admit he was right. “There’s something else. Something Ailig gave Emma. It’s not here.” She’d just written it this morning before she’d met him. A necklace, a oblong piece of Connemara marble wrapped in a spiral of silver. Ailig had given it to Emma after they’d first made love. “You mean this?”

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Dread filled Emily as Alec flipped through the pages, stopping near the end of the notebook with his past life work. He pointed towards a passage. Reluctantly, she read. I hit on something significant today. I don’t know why, but it gutted me to remember it. I gave her a necklace. I’d gotten it on my travels to Ireland. A perfect piece of Connemara marble. Silver twisted around it like a lover’s embrace. I knew it was perfect for her. On the journey home, the group I travelled with met with a band of gypsies. The others wanted nothing to do with them. Leaving my friends in camp, I’d visited the band. An old gypsy woman met me as I entered the circle of their fire. She knew me. She knew Emma. She foresaw troubles for us, but told me all would be well. Then she asked me if she could bless the necklace with a Romini blessing— Emily looked up at him. “I need to leave.” “Stay. Please.” “Alec, this scares me.” “We’re meant to find each other again. You can feel it like I do. I know you can.” She could, but it didn’t freak her out any less. She closed her eyes. “You’re in love with Emma. I’m not Emma.” And if anything developed between them, he’d leave her for it. And she’d be abandoned once more. The best way to avoid that was to get out first. His arms tightened as if he realised her thoughts. “Let me get to know Emily, then. I’m not Ailig, either. I told you that earlier.” He pulled her back so she rested against his chest, her head next to his. His fingers went to work on the belt of the robe. Reflexively, she tried to stop him. “Hands on the armrests.” She froze, the same excited tremor from earlier travelling down her spine. What? Okay…behind her as he was he really couldn’t do anything. Trust him, her instincts urged. Damned never wrong instincts. “You like to be in charge of things,” she commented. “Yes. Does that bother you?” She moved her hands to the armrests. “Apparently not.” Aside from freaky coincidences and having to explain to her editor why she wouldn’t be delivering a book, she could play an exciting game with this man for the little while before she returned to the States. This dominance game did excite her.

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He tied her wrists to the chair with the ends of the robe’s belt. She tested the strength of the knots finding they held her secure. She swallowed as she felt blood rushing to her pelvis. Good lord, it made her hot. She squirmed against the evidence of his arousal. “Sit still,” he ordered. She yanked at the belt again. The plush didn’t give. “You’re just a good little Boy Scout aren’t you,” she quipped to hide her anxiousness. “I suppose you have leather cuffs upstairs.” “I might,” he replied. “Ailig and Emma enjoyed that. I figured if their souls ever found one another again, the new Emma—or Emily—might like that. I have a flogger, bindings, creams…everything.” He nipped her ear. “And I know how to use them.” His hand smoothed over her belly to her drenched pussy. “Does that excite you Emily?” She whimpered as his finger circled her clit. Her nails dug into the padding on the armrest. Her head tipped onto his shoulder as sensations rocked over her. “I’ve never tried any of that.” Two fingers penetrated her, working in and out. “But would you like to?” There was no question. Her thighs tightened against him, her feet looping around his calves as she fought to keep her legs open while release crept up on her. His thumb swept over her clit again. Did she want to? Did she want him to tie her down and have his wicked way with her? “Yes!” she gasped. “Yes, I want to!” He nuzzled her cheek, then kissed her neck before he brushed his lips over her ear, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair at her temple. “I want you to come first.” With the sensations railing through her, it wouldn’t be a problem. He pinched her clit and she arched, the streaks of pleasure not quite enough to send her over the edge. “More?” he asked. “Please, more.” “You like being a slave to the pleasure, don’t you? Knowing you will only climax because I let you.” Did he know how hot that was? His rough whisper in her ear aroused her almost as much as his touch and being exposed the way she was now. Anyone could come up the stairs and peer through the open office to the chair and get quite a sight of her pussy spread wide.

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“Please let me,” she said. “My lord,” he prompted. “Please let me, my lord,” she breathed, the impact of the title hitting her hard. Emma had addressed Ailig that way… A lord… Master of all he surveyed. And at the moment Alec had a pretty good eyeful of her. Her lord. Her master. He rewarded her by adding a finger to the two already driving into her. She spread her thighs wider to accommodate him. He lifted his free hand and cupped her breast. Catching her nipple, he rolled the supple flesh, pinching it until she cried out begging for more. A ragged line between her nipple and womb tugged with each pinch, each pull, each flick. Emily whimpered, begged, cursed as she bucked into his pistoning fingers. “Now, Emily. Now…” dropping his hand, he rubbed her clit while he continued to finger-fuck her. “Now. Come for your lord.” Her body went rigid as release streaked through her, twisting through her limbs as she screamed and flooded his hand with her cream. “Good girl,” Alec rasped. “Now, upstairs we go.” Emily vaguely realised he’d unfastened the belt from her wrists and dropped the entire robe to the floor as he lifted her and carried her back upstairs. Leaving her standing in the middle of the room, he walked to the bureau. She bit her lip wondering what was next. Alec turned with a set of leather cuffs in his hands. “Be very sure.” She took a deep breath and swallowed, never taking her eyes from him. She’d heard of women going to ‘dungeons’ to be dominated by the Doms there. Was this any different? It was practically anonymous sex if she discounted eight hundred years of supposed history. “I’m sure.” “Hands behind your back,” he ordered. Excitement riffled through her. If he hadn’t had her flooding her pussy downstairs, she certainly was now. She put her hands behind her and turned her back towards him. “I didn’t tell you to turn,” he growled. Her eyes went wide as he clipped the cuffs on her wrists. He leaned forward. “Are you so anxious to feel my flogger?” Actually? Well, kind of… She shook her head, suspecting in this game she was supposed to keep her mouth shut. He traced the crevice dividing her buttocks. “Have you ever…”

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She shook her head again. “Do you want to?” Did she? She nodded. She was game to whatever he wanted. “Not today, love. But I have a nice plug we’ll try.” Emily nodded more eagerly. “Yes.” “Strike two.” Cool. No…not cool. Shit! What the hell did she want? “Go to the bed and bend over the side.” She blinked. Bent over the side, with her ass in the air— “Move it,” he warned. He shook his head. “You really do want the flogger, don’t you?” Emily scrambled across the room and bent over the bed. She closed her eyes, so freaking aroused she thought she might climax from the rub of the bedspread against her nipples. Alec followed behind her and knelt. She felt his shoulder against her leg as he fastened a leather shackle around her ankle. A moment later, he secured the other ankle and she discovered there was a bar between the two cuffs keeping her legs apart. In her position—and in his—there would be no mistaking the cream which must glisten on her folds. Alec leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her pussy. “Delicious. Too bad you’re so naughty.” “I’m sorry, my lord,” she whispered, desperately wanting more of his attention. “Too late, love. Now you get to feel my flogger.” He leaned over her, pushing her hair over her shoulder, then pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “If you wish me to stop, you have only to say ‘eternity’.” She swallowed, afraid of what was to come yet wanting it. She’d studied BDSM for a book she’d written, and it had turned her on more than she could have ever believed. She’d never imagined that she’d participate in any of the activities she’d researched. He dragged the tails of the flogger along her back. Satisfaction filled her. She knew enough about this game to know it gave the Dominant satisfaction to have his woman submit. That was the beauty of the D/s relationship. Power exchange…she was giving up hers to him, yet through that it was within her grasp to give or withhold his gratification. Alec’s pleasure was in her hands as she opened herself for him. Had Emma felt such fulfilment when she’d bent for Ailig?

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Emily shivered with excitement. Despite her instincts about her safety, the danger of her situation sent a thrill through her. The flogger was meant to bring pain… The tails left her back as Alec drew back his arm. She stiffened, anticipating a sting across her ass. Instead the ends of the flogger landed with a slight thump…no pain just the jolt of impact. She moaned at the naughtiness of it all. Another blow landed and another, each with the same force. Emily relaxed, and illicit delight settled in her. Yes, this was good. Abruptly, Alec paused. His hand slid over her ass, his fingers trailing over her. “Hmm…” he murmured. “Nice and warm. Starting to pink. Definitely ready for more.” A sudden stroke of the flogger stung across her buttocks. Emily yelped as the pain shocked through her. Again it came. Again. Tears stung her eyes and she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as the tails of the lash splayed across her behind. She’d wanted this. She’d nearly begged for it. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, my lord.” Yet she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted more. Heat radiated through her, stoking higher with each impact. By the time the fifth stroke had fallen, prickling sensation fully engulfed her pussy. Sweat beaded on her skin as her body heated. Her cream flooded her folds. She needed him to stop and put his cock in her. She needed to be fucked harder than anyone had ever fucked her. Another moan welled inside her, unlike any before. The pain from the flogging mutated. Warmth and ecstasy radiated to her womb, coiling within her, driving her to lift into his strokes. Her breasts rubbed against the bed as she moved. She imagined it was his, that his chest hair abraded her nipples. Pleasure hummed along her skin as she grew wetter, each lash burning so sweetly into her skin. She jolted in shock when something cool and wet pressed against her anus. Slowly, it pushed inside, burning as Alec breeched her virgin entrance with the plug he’d promised earlier. Her scream was muffled by the blankets. Her fingers clenched behind her. Even as the pain assailed her it transformed into a dark paradise she’d never encountered. She closed her eyes, taking shallow breaths through her slightly parted lips. “Stay with me, love,” Alec ordered. Her lips twisted upward, but she kept her eyes closed. Every part of her just felt so…good. “I’m with you, my lord.”

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She heard his disbelief in the noncommittal sound he made. A buzz throbbed through her senses. A moment later, the head of a wide vibrator pressed against her drenched pussy. The tip rotated, corkscrewing into her tight sheath. “My lord!” Emily cried as it bumped over and over into her g-spot. Spasms racked over her body, the need to orgasm catapulting through her body. Her legs trembled, fighting the bar he’d placed between them. She reached for her release, needing it to nourish her empty soul. Yet, every time she’d nearly reached it, he shifted, withdrew or slowed. For how long he tormented her, she didn’t know. Minutes. Hours. Seconds. She just wanted to fucking come, damn it. Suddenly, Alec ripped away the vibrator and surged into her with his own, much wider cock. Fire roared through her body, licking her nerve-endings with its inferno as she convulsed. He filled her. He fixed her broken pieces. He completed the soul she’d thought empty. His cock pressed into her, crowded by the butt plug and her compressed muscles. She howled as release crawled over her, yanking at every tense knot within her. He reached around her and pinched her clit as he continued his powerful thrusts. With a tug, he prolonged her release, heightening the pleasure. His rod slammed into the back of her channel as she flooded around him. Tears streamed down her face from the overwhelming release. She strove to stay with him, to offer herself for his pleasure. She was his vessel for his satisfaction. Could he feel the ripples of orgasm still flowing through her, still gripping his cock to suck his essence from him? He settled his hand on the small of her back as he rode her. Yes. Yes. Use me for your pleasure, my lord. An unexpected orgasm powered through her at the thought. Her pussy closed around him, the friction devastating anything she’d held back. “Oh God, love. Yes. Milk my cum from me,” he growled. “Yes,” she sighed. “Fill me, my lord. I’m yours.” Alec thrust deep. Burning pulses of seed inundated her womb, filling her and seeping around his cock as he came to rest over her. They both breathed heavily, gasping for breath. Her shoulders burned as he released the cuffs then the shackles on her ankles. She gritted her teeth against the pleasure-pain of the plug removal. Even though their combined releases filled her, she imagined him taking her there as well.

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A tendril of desire rekindled in her middle. Was this what it was like to truly connect with someone else? Alec gathered her against him and carried her to rest with him against the pillows. “Are you okay?” “Mmm…yeah.” She trailed a finger over his damp chest. “Calling you my lord seems so natural.” She bit her lip. “Almost too natural.” “No one else has ever called me that.” She looked at him inquisitively while she ruthlessly squashed an uprising of jealousy. Of course there had been other women. Besides, what right did she have to possessive feelings? She’d known him for mere hours. Hours! Sweet heaven. It felt like a lifetime…or more. “Master,” he supplied, answering her unspoken question. “Master?” She fought a giggle. Why did it seem so natural to call him my lord, but master made her laugh? Because Emma had called Ailig “my lord”. Only, Emma and Ailig hadn’t played BDSM games the way Alec did— Oh come on. Now she was comparing her life to fictional characters? They’re not fictional, Emily. How much proof did she need? Alec’s journals matched her notes. The recollections hitting her like freight trains. She knew strange things existed in life—her visions, for instance. The concept that Ailig and Emma had once lived and could now be her and Alec was sinking in. It didn’t seem nearly as strange now as it had at first. “I shouldn’t write my book,” she said suddenly. “I came to England to feel closer to Emma and Ailig, so I could have a better feel for creating their characters. I guess I was a lot closer than I thought. But…if they’re real people, I can’t write about them as if they’re fictional characters.” “Why not? You saw the account of their life. It was more political than personal. No one knows the details of their life. No one but us. Write their story. Give them a happily ever after.” She shrugged, wincing slightly. “I’ll think about it.”

Damn. She was hurting, and he’d neglected to care for her right away as he should have. Alec rolled her to her stomach and examined the pink stripes on her ass. Gently, he pulled a finger along one, feeling the heat rising from the skin. He needed to attend to this

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before the two of them relaxed much more. Despite his lethargy, he pushed upright and reached for a tub of soothing cream he kept on the bed stand. It would help the marks disappear quickly with little trace other than in their memories. After unscrewing the lid, he dipped his fingers inside and coated them with the thick white salve. “How long are you here?” he asked. Slowly, he rubbed the cream over the marks he’d made with the flogger, coating each pink streak as his cock rose at the memory of her submission. She glanced over at his arousal and laughed. “You’re thinking of sex again.” She moaned as he touched her. Resting her head on her arms, she closed her eyes. “So am I.” “Why not? Eight hundred years is a very long time to wait to be reunited.” She bit her lip. “I guess it is.” He didn’t want to think of Ailig or Emma. He wanted to know how long he’d have with this woman who was quickly beginning to replace all the fantasies he’d had about his reunion with this love from the past. “You never answered my question. How long are you here?” “Until Friday.” Three more days. Alec frowned. He didn’t have time to waste. A ringing phone cut off his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID on the bed stand. Shit. Not now. “Mum,” he said by way of greeting. “Hullo, darling. I’m sorry to disturb you but…” “What happened this time?” he asked when she trailed off. Usually, Vi’s predicaments amused him, but right now he was a bit pressed for time and he had a naked, beautiful woman from his past, and hopefully future too, in his bed. “Well, I’m afraid—Max, shush! I’m perfectly capable of— What do you mean the Queen should revoke my license. A lot you know—” “Mum!” Alec yelled. God lord, she’d destroyed another car. It was her fourth in four years. “Oh sorry, darling. Max is a tad blinkered about this but—” “Mum, look. Put Max on the phone, will you? You both seem fine, but I need someone to tell me what’s happened.” “I’m perfectly capable of speaking with you. I’m afraid I’ve lost the car in the moor.”

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He closed his eyes. “’Lost as in misplaced?” he asked hopefully. “Well, no… It’s in a bog. We barely got out the windows before it completely sank. Max’s wallet and all my things…eaten by the mud. Could you come and get us?” He pushed his hand through his hair and glanced over at Emily. She’d pulled the blanket around her while he’d been on the phone. She’d likely guessed their games were over—for now if he had any say in it. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Where are you?” A few garbled directions and a phone hand off to Max, and Alec disconnected turning to Emily. “Want to come with me?” She looked away. “I should go back to my hotel and either work on my book or come up with a new proposal for my editor.” “I don’t want this to end. Please come with me.” She shook her head. Something was definitely wrong. A few minutes ago she’d been ready for anything. Now she was withdrawing like the low tide. “What is it? Vi’s harmless. You’ll love her. She’s the crazy lady down the street…only she’s my mum and Max, my stepdad, puts up with all her antics better than anyone I know. Ran him down with her car while he was riding his bike. She has trouble with cars.” “She did not!” “She did. It was love at first sight. Happens a lot in this family.” “Alec—” “We know what we want. In business, in relationships, in acquisitions. Call it intuition if you will, but we have a tendency to make split second decisions and know immediately the right way to go. There hasn’t been a person in my family who hasn’t known within a day that they’d met the love of their life.” He’d known when he’d approached her on the beach, before he’d even kissed her—not that he’d tell her that. She’d think he was as crazy as Vi. “I guess I understand intuition.” He peered at her. “You have it, too, don’t you?” She looked away. “Most people think it’s crazy. I don’t talk about it.” His palm cupped the side of her face. “You’re completely safe with me, love. Is it visions, a knowing, perhaps instant awareness of something that’s happened or will happen?” “Sometimes I see things,” she admitted. “I just…know things.”

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“Emma had visions, you know.” She sighed and he got the feeling she didn’t want to her about her past persona. Accepting all part of self was difficult. He had the ease born of years. She had hours. “I wish we could stay here,” he told her, deliberately changing the subject. “I’d like to hold you, just talk for a while.” “That’s awfully vanilla of you,” she teased, but he saw the desire in her eyes. She didn’t care if they were being kinky of just clinging together—as long as they were together. “It can’t all be chains and whips even if they are fun.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk in the car,” she offered. “It will probably do us good to get away from here and the memories anyway.”

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Chapter Three

Emily stared out the window while Alec navigated the narrow, twisting road leading into the town where his parents were waiting. Silence had fallen around them after he’d managed to drag the secret of her parents desertion from her. The man was good. She supposed that was part of his power as a Dom. He knew when there was more to a story or an emotion. How many times had he managed to pull more out of her than she wanted to reveal? Even more, there was a mien surrounding him that engendered security—and loose lips. Despite that, he was exceptionally good at hiding his own feelings. Most of the time. When she’d told him about the people who had produced her—she hated to give them the honorific of ‘parent’—his lips had pressed together so tightly, the edges had turned as white as the tight knuckles that had gripped the steering wheel. His nostrils had flared and she’d half expected to see flames emerge. And his indignation on her behalf had settled snugly in her heart. His protectiveness alone made her want to give him anything he wanted. Especially the submission he liked. When they were alone again, she fully intended to show him that, too. She’d read enough that she had a fairly good idea of what to do. As the road finally widened, he reached over and slipped his hand over her leg, tucking his fingers close to her pussy. She knew he’d feel the warmth emanating from her body, but she wondered if he’d feel the dampness. In her haste to dress, she hadn’t searched out her panties. Now between going commando and the way he aroused her, she was paying the price. The thick seam of her jeans, damp with her cream, rubbed against her clit driving her tension higher. “Spread your legs a bit,” he said. Instantly, she complied. Why not? Dark had fallen over and hour ago. His fingers lightly ran over the seam which tormented her. “Hmm…this won’t do. Open your jeans and push them down your thighs.” “Alec!” “Excuse me?”

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She swallowed. “Yes, my lord.” Her fingers trembled at the closure at her waistband. It was one thing to let him stroke her through her clothes, but quite another to push down her pants. It wasn’t that dark. Well, hell. She released the button and slid down the zipper. If anyone saw her, they’d never see her again. She was on a plane home in less than a week. Hastily, she thrust the pants to her knees and spread her legs as far as she could while still partially inside the constraining garment. “Good girl,” he said. Reaching over, he dragged his fingers over her slippery folds. “Oh love, you’re so wet. Are you perhaps thinking of my cock driving into you again?” His fingertips dipped inside her, circling and stretching her opening. “You know I am.” Her hand strayed to his thigh. All her thoughts were consumed by him. She had a feeling that all her future characters would resemble him. “Rub my cock, love.” Instantly, she complied, running her palm over the hard ridge behind his fly. The linen pants he’d donned stretched around his engorged arousal, barely containing him. The long column throbbed against her hand. She traced the head of his cock, her body responding to the shape of it beneath her thumb. As he touched her, she imagined this head ploughing the path to her release, scoring over her sensitive tissues and knocking against that elusive spot that would send her chasing the stars. She groaned and lifted her hips as he pushed two fingers deep inside her. Reflexively, she grasped him. Her hand travelled his length, pushing up and down, his clothing providing extra friction. Suddenly, he pulled the car to the side of the road. After jerking the hand brake on, he leaned over and captured her lips with his, his free hand tilting her head to give him the best access. His tongue thrust in time with his fingers. The scent of their musk filled the small interior of the car, driving her arousal higher. She breathed it in, wanting to remember this stimulation and the feel of him over her and in her long after she returned home. Oh God, she didn’t want to go. The thought of leaving him stabbed through her so viably tears pricked her eyes. I’ve searched for him for so long. How can I leave? She knew the voice was not hers, but Emma’s, an etheric memory invading her space and time. Ruthlessly, she shoved it away. Her time with Alec was about here and now, not something that had happened nearly a millennium ago.

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Her body prepared to receive her lover, flooding Alec’s fingers with her cream. Lifting her into his arms, he shifted onto her seat and settled her on his lap. A few manoeuvres later, he’d shoved down his pants. She straddled him, her jeans completely off. He pushed up the tail of her shirt, splaying his hand on her back. “Ride me, love.” She sank on to him, every wide inch of his cock stroking her as it plunged into her sheath. “Yes, my lord,” she gasped. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Slowly, she rocked her hips forward. Her clit rubbed against his pelvis. Reaction cartwheeled through her and she screamed when Alec reached up and pinched her nipple. “Ride,” he urged. And she did, moving up and down his shaft while he guided her. The headlights of an oncoming car illuminated them and a naughty thrill soared through her. Whoever was coming would be able to see exactly what they were doing if they glanced over. And what if they stopped thinking she and Alec had had car trouble? She pressed her face to Alec’s neck as her body screamed out of control, taken by the danger of discovery and shoved into the chasm of release. Alec groaned as her orgasm clenched around his cock and she jerked with the sensations taking her. His fingers dug into her hips while he thrust upward and joined her, his seed exploding from him.

The lights bore down on them. Shit, this wasn’t good. All he needed was the locals finding them au natural. Working quickly, he helped Emily to quickly don her pants. She lifted away from him so he could yank up his own. A moment later, the car stopped in front of them. Alec pulled her into his embrace, kissing her frantically and holding her tightly on his lap to hide his open fly. Something metal clicked on the window beside his head. “Sir? Are you alright?” Didn’t he look alright? For the love of God, he had a gorgeous woman on his lap, kissing him. “I told you something must have happened. Alec would never take this long to come and get me.” Great. The local authorities and his mother. Alec rolled down the window. “Mum,” he said sadly. She blinked at him, her eyes otherwise wide. Seeing Emily on his lap, she slapped a hand to her mouth. “Alec,” she exclaimed. “What is this?”

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“I, um—well, we stopped and—Mum, this is Emily.” “Em…Em-ily? The Em-ily?” she asked. “As in—” “Yeah.” Vi’s eyes lit up and she smiled, completely disregarding the situation in which she’d found them. “I am so glad to finally meet you, Em.” She turned to the man who’d driven her—and God alone knew how she’d managed that—and waved him back to the car. “Apparently, I’ve made a mistake. My son is fine. Let’s go.” “But ma’am—” “Sir, do I need to walk—” Alec rolled up the window to drown out his mother’s speech. Reaching between them, he fastened his fly before his mother returned, and she would return. “That was Vi,” he said. “So I surmised.” Emily frowned. “She thinks I’m Emma.” Alec shook his head, smoothing a hand over her hair. Waiting for Emma had taken up so much of his life. How could he explain that all of them would have to undertake the exercise of separating the past from now? Carefully, he moved back to his side of the car. “She knows the difference between past lifetimes and this one,” he finally said. “But you all expect me to be her.” “I don’t. And neither will Vi. I know you’re a different person, even if we haven’t known each other long.” He grinned. “In this lifetime.” “Not helping.” “But I know you. Let me tell you what I know about you.” She looked out the window, pushing her hair from her face. Alec fought the urge to reach out and pull her back into his embrace. She looked absolutely forlorn and through it, he saw the abandoned child she’d once been. God help him, he wanted to pummel the pair who’d given birth to her. “Nothing… You haven’t had a chance. All we’ve done is have sex.” “And earth shattering sex it is. It’s a good start.” “Not good enough,” she replied. “You’re a writer. Creative, dedicated, self-directing. No one’s cracking a whip after you. You write because you need to get out the story inside you. You must have a good grasp of

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language. You’re committed. You cared enough about what you are writing to travel here to make your story better. Have I missed the mark on this?” She made a face. “No.” “You’re self conscious. It turns me on to look at you, yet I can see you’re not completely comfortable with yourself—until I’m loving you. And then you forget. Let’s see… you have visions and you have an infallible sense of intuition. Your parents were self-absorbed dimwits and you spent your formative years in foster care and state homes, yet you’ve made something of yourself. Determination. A backbone of steel. And yet you submit to me so sweetly.” She bit her lip, and her eyes were shiny when she turned to him. “It’s not a lot, I’ll admit,” he said. “But it’s a really good foundation.” “It’s more than anyone else has ever had.” Starting the car again and pulling back onto the road to town, Alec vowed that he’d know more about her than anyone. Everything. Emily was his, whether she’d admitted it yet or not. He’d chase away the sadness that lurked inside her and show her all the happiness that should have always been hers and now always would be. She might naturally submit to him, but she’d be his princess, showered in his love and the best of everything. His hand settled on her thigh again. “Let’s go get Vi and Max so that we can go home and I can hold you.” Forever and ever.

**** Emily adored Vi and was charmed by Max and his long-suffering endurance of Vi’s flighty behaviour. His love for her was obvious. And when Vi looked at him…sparks flew, even after the years they’d been together. Laying in bed and looking at Alec the next morning, Emily had wondered if they’d have the same sort of love. Quickly, she shoved away the illogical thought. Of course they wouldn’t. She was going back to the United States in two days. “I should get up and work,” he said. They rested on their sides, facing each other and caught in a warm, gauzy web of serenity. Though they hadn’t made love since the night before, an afterglow surrounded them with a tenderness that bound their hearts together.

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She was reluctant to break the close connection they had here. In the golden beams of the sun filtering through the thick curtains, the world beyond them ceased to exist. Leaning forward, Alec captured her lips in a leisurely kiss, exploring her mouth with lazy strokes that matched the quiet of the morning. Languid streams of desire meandered through her, waiting for the deluge of passion that would engorge them later when they came together again. This was enough for now. They both knew the cataclysm that would overtake them later. “I’d like you to stay,” he said. “I have to attend to non-bed and breakfast matters this morning. Investments and other financials. This afternoon, I’d like to take you to see the area and out to dinner at the pub. Sound okay?” “Perfect. Maybe we can stop at my hotel. I need some clothes. It was nice of your mother to lend me a skirt and shirt to wear today, but I’d like my own panties.” He nipped her shoulder, his hand cupping her bare pussy. “Go without. I command it.” “Yes, my lord,” she sighed, her arousal at the thought surely dampening his hand. It would be dangerous for her to traipse around bare beneath the floaty skirt Vi had lent her. A stiff breeze would reveal her nakedness. Alec would have an unobstructed path to her folds whenever and wherever he pleased. And darn if that didn’t just turn her on. She grinned. “Do you have any other commands for me?” He made a face while he thought, his forehead wrinkling. “Hmm…think of me.” His finger dipped inside the outer lips of her sex to rub her clit. “Definitely,” she replied. On some level, she wondered if she always had. “Good, then you are allowed to leave this bed.” Both of them, however, were loathe to leave the cocoon of the blankets and the warm glow surrounding them, and it wasn’t until a business call dragged Alec from bed that they finally moved. Leaving him to his work, Emily took off for the beach. She supposed she should get out her laptop and do some work as well, but the ocean called her and until she indulged her need to let nature reinvigorate her soul she wouldn’t be able to focus. Her purse was still on the coffee table where Alec had left it the day before, and she dug through it, finding a pair of sunglasses before heading out to the water. The cold waves eddied around her bare feet as she ambled along without paying attention. Her thoughts were consumed with Alec and the revelations of the past day—had it only been a day? So much had happened.

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Was he right? Was this meant to be? She still had trouble acclimating herself to a past life influencing this one. Alec said he knew her, but how could she be sure he wasn’t really infatuated with Emma the paragon of virtue from the past. A knot twisted at the possibility that she’d be forever trapped in an Emma-or-Emily cycle. Why couldn’t she have met Alec with out all the other baggage? She almost didn’t notice when an old bottle knocked up against her ankle. It was so beautiful here, it ticked her off that someone would litter by tossing garbage like this in the ocean. She scooped it up, intending to throw it away when she returned to the castle. The instant she touched it, a jolt railed through her. Ailig. Throwing a bottle in the ocean. Walking to his death. The vision hit her hard and she reeled backward, landing on her bottom on the damp beach. The pictures flashed before her like a slow motion film, each desperate moment piercing her heart. When the waves finally covered Ailig, her sight cleared and she again stared at empty ocean. Tears streamed down her face. Swiping at them, she reluctantly looked down at the bottle, trepidation filling her. Please don’t be that bottle. Please… But she knew it had to be. Something was inside. Paper. Something else. It rattled slightly against the glass as she moved her wrist. Lifting her arm and peering into the bottom of the bottle, she saw the distorted image of the necklace she’d seen in her dreams. The one she’d written about. The one Alec had shown her in his journal. A choked cry tangled in her throat. She dropped the vessel in the sand beside her, pulling up her legs and burying her face in her knees. If she had this, she’d never be free of Emma. Whenever Ailig looked at her, he’d think of the woman he’d been married to eight hundred years ago—Ailig! Now she was twisting time, too! Leaping to her feet, she yanked up the bottle and ran back to the water. She couldn’t keep this. She wouldn’t. Pulling back her arm, she flung Ailig’s message as far into the ocean as she could. Alec wasn’t Ailig. She hadn’t known him long, but like Alec knew her, she felt the same. She knew him better than she’d ever known any man. He truly cared for her, patiently leading her through the BDSM they shared, giving her exactly what she’d longed for deep inside her. He was responsible, in business, in his relationship with family, in how he tended her during and after their sexual encounters.

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In reading his journal, she’d seen his deep thoughts. In his dealing with Vi, she saw a fondness that warmed her. And as commanding as he could be as a Dom, he didn’t hide his affection. It made him the perfect match for her needs. She didn’t want a man who emotionlessly led her through bondage and discipline. She needed to know in the end that she meant something to this man. Alec left her no doubt. But couldn’t Ailig have been all those things? Perhaps… Her arms around her middle, she continued down the beach trying to unshackle Alec from Ailig. Unfortunately, the more she pulled, the more they tangled. Damn it! What were the chances of the bottle with that necklace ending up on the same beach eight-hundred years after it was tossed in the ocean? The way her life was going. About a one hundred percent chance. Turning back towards the castle, she followed her original steps. The waves had washed over them, blurring them, but she could still see impressions of the original steps. Just as she could still feel impressions of the original life. The crash of glass snapped her attention to the water. Even without looking she knew what she’d see. The bottle had crashed against the rocks. Without a thought, she rushed out to it, grabbing the necklace and parchment before the next wave washed them away. When she again stood on the beach, the message in one hand, the necklace in the other, she stared blackly out at the water. The bottle had survived eight hundred years and now it broke? What the hell? Why the hell do you think? She scowled. “You are not doing this to me,” she railed at fate. “I’m making my own decisions.” And her first decision was to get the hell out of here before fate—or the past—decided to dictate any more of her future.

**** Something was wrong. Alec dropped his pen on the desk and sat up, his shoulders rigid. Emily… He shot to his feet racing from the tower. Even as he entered the main hall, he knew he was too late. She

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wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t in trouble—though she might be when he got his hands on her. She had left. Without a word. His distraught gaze fell to the table where her purse had been and he sank to his knees. The necklace. A stone that's blessed by lover’s hands To bless the wearer with a love that stands. Through time and toil, no stopping fate As lovers united, no hand can break. So take this token and wear it true, Destiny awaits with love for you. A favour I ask from you to me Once blessed return my gift to the sea. For others await the hand of fate My blessing to love's true mates. Ailig Bennett December 1264.

The stone had returned to him. A lot of good it was. Gypsy blessings and fate were as good as bubble gum prizes. Worthless. She was his for eternity? Ordained by the stars. Yeah right. His love was once again gone.

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Chapter Four

Five minutes after Emily had left the castle, she’d started trembling. Now after quickly gathering her things and making a nearly two hour drive into Liverpool, she still shook as she sat in the waiting areas of the Liverpool John Lennon Airport and waiting for her flight to Paris which would in turn take her to Chicago. She’d barely been able to speak when she’d returned her rental car to Hertz. Trying to relax she took deep breaths. Everything would be okay. This was just reaction to leaving so quickly. So why did she feel so hollow? After two days, she shouldn’t be so attached. She closed her eyes, running her hand over the back of her neck. Why exactly was she running? Because she couldn’t spend the rest of her life being shoved in a slot created by Emma. Even if it fits? What are you afraid of Emily? Afraid of? She wasn’t afraid of anything. Except being taken again. Didn’t she have an irrational fear of most strangers—something she’d never felt with Alec. He was safety and the fear she’d had since childhood hadn’t been there. And the fear of dying early. Fear of losing someone you love. Isn’t that why you won’t commit? Emily wished her inner voice would just shut up. She didn’t just fear losing just anyone anymore. It was Alec. What if she let herself become attached to him and they were ripped apart? Again. Yes, again. She couldn’t fight that reality anymore. So much of what had formed her and made her what she was today was because of what Emma had endured. What she was today was what Emma would have become if she’d somehow survived. She would have been stronger, more suspicious, fearing the death that had almost taken her. She needed to get over that one. Emily pressed her lips together. There was no escaping death, but there was no need to think it lingered on her doorstep. Maybe if she reminded herself of that often… Hopefully, Alec wouldn’t care if she saw a therapist, because she had a feeling she might still need one to overcome her phobias. She bit her lip. She’d have to find one who dealt with past lives. She wouldn’t fire this one.

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So that was her decision then. If she got lucky, Alec wouldn’t think she was a complete psycho and slam the door in her face. She stared at the airport motto printed on a poster—Above Us Only Sky. Suddenly, it was as if a door had opened. She and Alec had only the future before them. Nothing loomed over them. The tragedy of the past didn’t have to be the mistakes of today. She’d already lost him once. She wasn’t going to be the catalyst in losing him again. Steeling herself for the confrontation she was sure to have, she stood gathering her carry-on case and her laptop. Hopefully Hertz would have another car she could rent.

**** Alec’s fist smashed onto his desk, sending the necklace skittering across the surface. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to work. Their destiny might be fated, but Emily needed to choose him. She still had free will. “Darling, calm down.” He ignored his mother as she lounged in the doorway of his office, her arms crossed as she watched him. “I am calm, Mum,” he said as he balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear. With every minute he was on hold, his tension rose until he was ready to break. Redirecting his attention, he lifted the dried parchment from Ailig’s note and placed it inside the history book he’d shown Emily. Then he snatched up the necklace and shoved it in his pocket. “Why don’t you go after her?” “I’m trying to—” The scheduler finally came back on the line, babbling about cost, visas and connections to the United States. Alec glanced at Emily’s author biography on her website. She lived in Chicago. “I don’t care how much it costs. I need the soonest flight you can get me to Chicago.” He’d spent the last hours, getting his papers in order and figuring out where Emily would have gone. Home. He’d debated with himself. She had to decide on her own to be with him. He’d wait.

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That had lasted five seconds before he’d decided to give her a push. A bloody metaphorical kick in the pants. Then he might spank her. He’d have to calm down first… And she’d like that, too. Bloody BDSM. Movement on the security monitor across from his desk caught his eye. Standing, he stared at the black and white feed of the front courtyard. “Never mind,” he growled into the phone. Emily had just climbed out of a car. “Praise God,” Vi muttered, following his shocked stare. She stepped aside as he tore past her. “I’ll be scarce for a bit,” she called. “Let my new daughter-in-law come down to dinner later.” If she could sit. “Mum. Aren’t you assuming a lot?” “She came back Alec. Don’t be a clot.” He met Emily at the doorstep, before she’d rung the bell. Without a word he heaved her over his shoulder, leaving her bags on the doorstep. “Alec!” she shrieked. “Silence,” he commanded with a smack to her ass. Stomping through the house, he headed for the tower. “Neanderthal,” Emily muttered and received another smack. Her quiet moan didn’t escape him. Neither did the scent of her escalating desire. “Hullo, Emily. Welcome back,” Vi called from the couch where she pretended to be engrossed in a magazine. He didn’t give Emily a chance to reply. “You’re very fit,” she commented. “You know…dragging me up all those stairs and all,” she quipped when he dumped her on the bed. He stared at her for a moment, just so glad to see her. Calling on the reserve he used as a Dom, he kept his face emotionless. Grasping her hands, he clamped her hands together in cuffs at the headboard, then captured her feet in shackles attached to each post at the foot of the bed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he silently looked down at her as his brain kicked back into gear. She had Neanderthal right. She’d come back and he’d gone all caveman, dragging her to his lair and locking her down. She belonged here, but he didn’t want to chain her to make her stay.

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She didn’t look overly put out, though. In fact, she was grinning her happiness as bright as a cloudless summer day. “You have a problem, my lord,” she laughed. “I’m still completely dressed.” He’d work around it. He allowed a slight scowl to enter his expression. Her smile faded. Her lip trembled. “I love you. I’m sorry.” “And…?” “I’ve never done long term. I don’t know if I can. But…I want to try. I want to be with you. I mean…you’ve never mentioned—” “Of course, I want a relationship,” he interrupted. “I know we’re meant to be.” Caving, he lightly trailed his fingers along her jaw, cupping her cheek. “Remember? Love at first sight.” “But you said Vi and Max—” “And me. You and I.” She swallowed, and he saw the self doubt enter her eyes. “You can, Emily. All you have to do is say yes. I’ll help you with the rest. I’ve always been right here waiting for you.” He pulled the necklace from his pocket. “We can throw this back into the ocean if you want or put it in our safe.” “I want it. Emma and I have come to terms. Sort of. I still have my hang ups.” With a nod, he sat on the bed beside her. The necklace weighed heavy in his hand, containing his heart and his promises to her. “I’ll help you through them. We can do this, love. You’ve done eight hundred years. We both have. I think we can manage seventy more or so. And then eternity.” Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt and pushed open the edges. Her front-closured bra opened under his fingers and he folded it back as well, revealing her taut nipples. The necklace settled between her breasts. His fingers closed around it, holding her close as he kissed her.

Emily groaned as Alec explored her mouth, his kiss claiming all of her. This wasn’t a careless kiss. It wasn’t a prelude to casual sex. Alec was claiming her. He meant to possess her—not just for a few days but for life. And for the first time, she was okay with that. Nothing screamed “run!” inside her.

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Alec ran a hand beneath her skirt, hiking the garment to her waist and baring her. He cupped her ass. “No panties. We don’t have such a problem after all.” “As you commanded, my lord.” He squeezed her buttock and a flood of arousal filled her pussy as she reacted. Heat flowed through her at the reality of being chained to Alec’s bed. At his command. For his pleasure. He knew exactly how to arouse her best. His fingers slid along her drenched slit, catching her cream. “And did you think of me?” “Constantly.” “You deserve to be punished for running instead of talking with me about your fears.” “I know. I’m sorry.” “And we need to work on your vocabulary. For an author you have a poor command of the meaning of silence.” She pressed her lips together and thrust her breasts towards him, hoping he’d get the meaning of her need and her supplication without her words. He could punish her however he liked—she knew he wouldn’t harm her—but she needed him to fuck her and show her their unity. Alec climbed between her knees. She heard his zipper lower then felt his cock against her folds. His tip pushed through the cream coating her as he tormented her sensitised flesh without entering her. “Tell me what you want, love.” She yanked on the chain holding her hands. “Fuck me, Alec. Please. I need to feel you. I need you to suck my breasts. Bite my nipples.” Leaning forward, he caught one peak between his teeth, tugging the flesh while he flicked it with his tongue. She gasped, writhing beneath him. But he didn’t enter her. Even as he repeated the motion with the other aroused bead. “Please, my lord,” she begged. “Good girl.” Slowly, he pushed his cock inside her weeping sheath, reclaiming the passage which would be only his. “Oh, God, Em…” She stared into his eyes, seeing her release building in his gaze, his determination to take her there, his resolution to make her fully his and to keep her forever. Smiling, he lowered his head again and his teeth scored down the side of her breast. She clenched all

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over, goose bumps racing down her body. Her channel squeezed around his cock and she fought against the chains trying to take him deeper. “Poor, love,” he murmured with a smile as she struggled. “Does the fight turn you on? I can feel it does. I’ll take you there. I’ll always take you there.” “Oh please…” she begged, flame licking at her pelvis and filling her womb. Tiny trails burned up to her breasts and into her nipples. She writhed, pleading with him. Her fingers tangled in the sheet, her toes clawing at air and unable to push into the mattress to lift her. “You hurt me when you left, Emily.” Wordlessly, she nodded. Her eyes squeezed shut as she reached the pinnacle of climax. He kept her perched there, bound, unable to jump on her own. “I won’t speak of it again,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Do you understand that? Mine.” She bobbed her head. “Yes. Okay. Yes. Please, my lord…” “Love, look at me.” She opened her eyes, wondering why she wasn’t coming yet. What more did she have to say? “Do you understand?” he asked emphatically. Everything inside her paused. This wasn’t just sex talk. A streak of sensation, purely from his words, pulsed across her clit and pushed her one step closer to release. She swallowed, trying to form words instead of the cries tumbling in her throat. “I understand, my lord Alec. Yours.” “Mine,” he whispered, ploughing forward. Hard. He reached between them, catching her clit with his fingers, rubbing it, pulling it, pinching it until she went screaming over the edge of her climax. Stars shot behind her eyelids as she arched beneath him, her body a rigid bow of pleasure. Distantly, she heard him cry out as he too found release. Their harsh breathing echoed in the room, sweat covering their bodies as she sank into the mattress. Alec sank over her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her in his uncompromising embrace. “Alec?” she asked when she finally found her voice. “Yes, love?” “You do love me. Not—” “Not Emma, Emily. You.”

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“I promise I won’t ask again. I know I’m part of her…or rather she’s a part of me. She’s been searching for her happily ever after, just as I have. I think she always knew she’d find it. Funny, I never believed I would. Her soul is my soul…I understand that now. But that doesn’t make me her. I can’t step back into her life and make everything alright.” “Love, I would never want you to do that. I once loved Emma through memories but memories cannot compete with you—you, flesh and blood, with all your talents and fears and dreams. In the time we’ve been together, you completely invaded me. Heart and soul.” “Alec…” “I want to read all of your books, by the way. I want to read Eternity. Ailig and Emma deserve a good ending. They’ve led my way to you. To you. Emily. I love you, Emily. My life felt empty before you…and after you, when you left, it was as if I’d died.” Tears pricked her eyes. “Will you unfasten at least one of the cuffs? I want to hold you.” Her arm immediately went around him as he unfastened the first cuff, but he pulled free and released the others. She pulled him down on her. “I do believe Ailig and Emma are finally reunited through us.” She couldn’t explain it…the unity she felt in spirit, yet the separateness that was only her and Alec. His eyes shone with understanding and she knew he comprehended her meaning. “Through us, but not us,” he said. She nodded. She pressed her lips to his ear. “I want to ride you, my lord. Like my steed. And I want to love you. Forever.” “Emily,” he groaned. “Yes Alec. Yes.” He rolled so she was over him, and she straddled his hips. His cock pressed to her opening and she sank on to him, finally united with her one true love. Her fingers wrapped around the necklace which lay against her heart, at home where it had always belonged. She smiled, intuitively knowing what he was thinking. They’d be together for eternity. It was ordained. And so the bottle had travelled across the waters, searching for lovers to unite until at long last the two souls rejoined and the necklace once more rested against the heart of the beloved where it would always stay.

About the Author When it comes to books and movies, Brynn Paulin has one rule: there must be a happy ending. After that one requirement, anything else goes. And it just might in any of her books. Brynn lives in Michigan with her husband and two children, who love her despite her occasional threats to smite them. They humour her and let her think she's a goddess...as long as she provides homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Brynn is president of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America and also hosts a weekly writing critique group. She’s conducted workshops at several writers’ conferences around the country as she enjoys mentoring and meeting new people. According to Brynn, her writing success can be attributed to 70's music, her local road construction crews, a trusty notebook, and of course, her husband (and willing research subject), AKA Mr. Inspiration.

Email: [email protected] Brynn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Brynn Paulin Redemption: Fallen Redemption: Incubus Tribute for the Goddess Circle of Three: Tempting Tamera

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