“I missed you,” she told him. Truth, she decided, deserved truth. “When I was away, and when I came back. I missed you.”
He laid her on the bed, put a hand on her cheek as he covered her. “I’m here. Stay with me.”
When he lowered his mouth to hers, he let go of all the worries. She brought him peace, and he no longer questioned why. The feel of her under him, soft and yielding, and still stronger than she knew, brought him hope. And he could hold on to that as he held on to her.
Her arms came around him, her hands sliding up his back, into his hair as her lips heated against his. So the slow, quiet kiss grew more avid, more needy with quick bites, seeking tongues, with bodies shifting to find more.
The line of her neck, the curve of her jaw, the pulse in her throat that beat like hummingbird wings—all those flavors enveloped him, enticed him.
Why it should be her, why it had to be her, he would think on later. But now, it could only be her.
His lips sought the curve of her breasts above the starry fog of her dress, then his hands slid up the filmy layers of it and whisked it away with a wish.
Naked, she shivered once, sighed once, then arched to him. With hands and mouth he took her breasts, feasted, and his hunger only grew.
She’d wanted this, had tried to close those wants away, and had sometimes succeeded. Or nearly. Now the craving to be touched by him, to taste him, to have the weight and shape of him pressed against her were met at last, so the joy, the pleasure, the passion braided together like a rope of fine silk.
As the light began to shimmer awake with night fading off for the coming sun, she ran her hands down him to spin his clothes away as he had hers.
She felt his laugh against her skin. “You missed a boot.”
His hands roamed; his mouth ravaged. She shifted, turning over him so hers could do the same.
“It’s hard to focus.”
“Aye.” He brought his mouth back to hers. “But I’ve got it.” Shifting back, he gripped her hands, then drew her arms up over her head.
In the first strikes of sun she saw his eyes, amber flecks swimming over green. “Next time we’ll take time, but I need you now. Take me in now.”
“Yes.” She linked her fingers tight with his.
When he drove inside her, deep, strong, and held, just held, her body bowed, her heart leaped, and everything in her burst into wild bloom.
He thrust again, held again, with his eyes locked on hers. “I want to watch what I do to you. Once more.”
On the next thrust she cried out in shock and release, quivering, quaking as the orgasm tore through her. In her vision, lights flashed and danced, bright as pixies.
“Breen Siobhan.” He covered her mouth with his to taste those hot, helpless cries as he drove her, drove them both hard and fast.
The soft light from the new day spread over them, and birdsong lifted in the air. She let herself fly, just fly, a dragon rider into the whirl of wind. And when the wind swept over her, when she fell into it, through it, she fell with him.
She couldn’t catch her breath, and decided it wasn’t worth chasing. She’d just lie there gasping until it found her. He still held her arms over her head, but loosely now as he lay, limp as a dead man, on top of her.
Slowly, her heart still banging, her ears still ringing, she focused on the ceiling.
The hills and valleys of Talamh rose and fell, browns and gold and so many shades of green. Seas rolled toward beaches of silver shale or golden sand. From the seas Mers leaped. Others sat on rocks. On the high cliffs stood trolls with their clubs or axes or picks. In the fields farmers plowed, and over the forests and meadows faeries flew. Elves and Weres walked among the trees, horses carried riders or carts along the road. A coven of the Wise cast a circle.
And in the sky blue as the seas, dragons flew.
“It’s beautiful. The ceiling.”
He made some sound, then rolled to lie on his back beside her. “It was painted long ago, and reminds the taoiseach that when he sleeps, Talamh should be his last thought, when he wakes, his first.”
“Well, that’s a lot.”
“The first night I spent here, I studied it.”
“You were just a boy.”
“I was taoiseach. And a boy, so I thought: How am I to do this? There’s so much, there are so many. I wanted the farm and the valley, and I’ll confess it, I wanted my ma. But I slept, and slept with Talamh over me. In the morning, I went, as is written, to the council. I was terrified.”
He turned, narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ll deny that for a vicious lie if you should speak that out loud to any.”