Moon Craving

Chapter 16

Talorc locked their door after leading Abigail inside the bedchamber and then leaned against it, facing her. “You and Guaire have grown very close.”

“He reminds me of Emily.”

Her husband’s shoulders jerked in surprise. “My soldier reminds you of your sister?”

She giggled at the implication. “Not because he is feminine. He may not be as fierce as you, but he is a strong soldier. I would trust my safety in his hands,” she said, repeating something similar to what Una had said once.

“So, how does he remind you of Emily?”

“He saw value in me before he learned my secret and that did not change after.”

Talorc’s brows drew together. “According to what I saw at dinner tonight, many members of the clan feel the same.”

“Yes, it is amazing. Only Guaire was already a good friend, and then he showed himself to be a true friend both standing by and standing up for me. Even with Niall, who intimidates most clan members.”

“Like Emily did when you first lost your hearing,” Talorc said, clearly able to draw a logical conclusion.

“Emily saved my life twice.” Abigail wanted to make her husband understand why her sister was such an important part of her life. “When I had the fever, no one wanted to risk exposure to nurse me.”

“Not even your mother?”

“Especially not my mother.”

“So, Emily nursed you?”

“Yes.”

“You said she saved your life twice.”

“Fear of the inexplicable is strong in my father’s keep.”

“Yes?”

Abigail nodded. “If the rest of the keep had been made aware of my loss, they might well have insisted on ridding the keep of me.”

“Your father would have submitted to the demands of his people?”

“I know only that my mother would not have been disappointed to see me gone.”

He said that word again, the one she did not understand.

Unable to meet his gaze directly and say what she wanted, she peered up at him through her lashes. “I did not believe I would ever have a person in my life who was more important to me than my sister.”

“You want me to believe I am that person?” The tension in his body was easy to read.

Emotion clogged her throat. “Yes.” More than anything.

Several long seconds passed in silence while he watched her and she watched him from beneath her lashes.

“I want proof.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“Prove to me how much you want to be with me.” He put his arms out. “Come here.”

This she could do.

Without hesitation, she walked right into those arms that always made her feel so protected and safe. His spicy, masculine scent washed over her, filling her with longing. She looked up at him, letting her love shine for him to see if he wanted to. “Please, don’t send me away, Talorc.”

He did not reply, but his mouth claimed hers with raw passion. He tasted like the mead from dinner and that feral flavor she associated with him alone. It was a heady combination and she didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. The pure bliss went on and on and yet felt like it was over in a moment. She was so dazed by it, he had to touch her eyelids to let her know he had something to say when he lifted his mouth from hers.

She allowed her eyes to flutter open.

His expression was all fierce possession and wild desire. “Mine.”

“Yours.” If only she could know as surely that he was hers.

“Show me.”

She nodded, finally understanding what he wanted her to do to prove his place in her heart. He wanted her to offer the one thing that was not and had never been part of her deception, something far removed from her sister and anyone else.

The untamed passion she felt for him.

With that in mind, she undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor, her hands already busy tugging at his plaid. She needed to get to bare skin, not just because he wanted her to prove something to him, but because she craved the intimacy he gave only to her.

The blue, green and black tartan came away from his magnificent body with ease. He had not worn a shirt, so the loss of his plaid left him totally, gloriously naked. His body glowed with vitality, his muscles rippling with tension under his golden skin.

His manhood was half-filled and getting thicker by the second, his testes hanging low and heavy with seed. Knowing he would be planting that seed deep in her body soon, she quivered in her core, the thought of having his child unbearably sweet.

The smell of dried sweat and musk filled the air between them, calling to her senses like an earthy elixir. She did not understand it, but he brought out an unrefined element in her character that had her responding on the most basic of levels with and to him. Like an animal with its mate, she found not only the sight of him pleasing, but his smell and taste as well.

“You like to look, don’t you, my angel?”

Her heart leapt at the endearment and she nodded, still reveling in the saturation of her senses.

But the way he felt under her fingers was the most wondrous thing of all. To have the freedom to touch him anywhere, any way she liked, and to have that freedom extended even now was beyond believing. In the best possible way.

Unable to resist taking advantage of that freedom, she reached out and caressed him, sliding her hand down his neck, across his chest and down his stomach until it hovered just above the nest of hair that crowned his manhood. Her entire being shuddered in pleasure at the jerk of his body and his rapidly burgeoning erection that showed the instant effect she had on him.

Curling her hand around him, she hissed at the heat emanating off his hard flesh. “So hot, so strong,” she whispered, watching his face for more signs of his pleasure.

They were there, in the way his eyes closed beneath his furrowed brow, and his lips parted to suck in and release his panting breath.

He thrust toward her with his hips, his hardened staff sliding against her fingers. “So good.”

She dropped to her knees and kissed the spongy tip. His knees bent and then he straightened them, and she could tell he remained standing by will alone. She nuzzled into the black curls of his pubic hair, inhaling the unique scent of his sex. His now-rigid penis rubbed against her cheek as she searched out more of the enticing fragrance.

He grabbed her head between his big warrior’s hands and guided her so her mouth slid along his stretched, taut foreskin. She blinked at the dark red head, pearls of liquid weeping from the slit. Then she lifted her gaze to his.

He raised one brow as if asking what she would do now.

She knew what she wanted. To taste. She leaned forward the scant distance between her mouth and his manhood and lapped at those delicious-looking pearls, loving the salty sweetness.

He used his hold on her to guide her mouth farther onto his hardened shaft. “Please . . .”

She didn’t want to miss his words, but the pleasure in her mouth was irresistible. Her eyes slid shut as her head tipped forward to take him in as deeply as she could. He hit the back of her throat and she concentrated on relaxing her throat and enjoying the sensation. She sucked as she pulled backward, swirling her tongue over his head. Delectable.

His knees tried to buckle again and she repeated the move, increasing the suction of her mouth until her cheeks hollowed out. Continuing the loving with her mouth, she began stripping her own clothing off. He liked looking at her and she wanted to give him everything to show him that she was his.

She had to slide her lips off the silk-wrapped stone column of his flesh in order to remove her blouse and shift though.

He took the opportunity to move to the furs, where he lay back, propped up on his elbows, his strong, muscular legs spread wide. He beckoned her with one hand. “Come here.”

The expression of need on his face filled some of the cracks in her heart.

She did not bother to stand, but crawled across the floor, her breasts swaying and her gaze fixed on his.

His gorgeous blue eyes widened and then narrowed to slits as his body shuddered in pleasure.

Power surged through her with the knowledge that by simple acts such as this, she could make the mighty Chrechte laird come undone.

She stopped on her hands and knees between his legs. “I love you.”

Something flared in his face, but he remained silent. Waiting.

She licked her lips and watched as his Adam’s apple moved to indicate he had groaned. Placing one hand on each of his thighs, she leaned forward until her mouth once again closed over his member. Feasting on the pearls of moisture that continued to leak from it, she concentrated on pleasuring just the bulbous tip.

She used one hand to slide his foreskin back to give her better access and lightly dragged her teeth across his slit before dipping inside with the very tip of her tongue. His hips bucked and he took hold of her head again, his fingers buried in her blond curls. She sucked and licked and gently slid her teeth along his hardness, barely letting them touch. He began to thrust on his own, but never so hard he choked her.

It was wild, wanton and utterly decadent.

And then he was coming, his essence filling her mouth and bursting across her senses. She swallowed, taking him into her with joy that marked her soul as his lips and teeth often marked her neck.

“Abigail. My angel. My true mate.”

This time she didn’t blink at the voice. She did not try to hear it, or anything else, again. She just enjoyed it. She did not care if it was her imagination or not. That voice spoke in a tone of awe, affection, maybe even love. She let the emotions wash over her. It did not matter in that moment that they were fantasy; they fed her hope and the kernel of happiness that she always felt in his presence.

He lifted her from her place between his legs with gentle hands, his expression almost reverent. “Sweet wife. My angel.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she did nothing to force them back. The feelings were too big to hold inside.

He pulled her up to lie on the furs with him, his hands caressing her as she settled against the ultrasoft pelts. “Now, I make love to you.”

“You already did.”

His eyes closed and then opened, the blue surrounded by a golden glow that sent shivers through her. “You are perfect for me.”

“Even flawed?”

“We are all flawed in one way or another.”

Her mother did not ascribe to that theory, but Abigail could thank God that her husband did. “You are perfect for me.”

“As it should be.”

Then he went about proving to her just how perfect for her that he was. Big calloused hands skimmed over her body with touches both gentle and demanding, drawing forth an uninhibited response. He caressed her neck, her belly, her thighs and finally her breasts, nipples and that spot of ultimate pleasure between her legs. She cried out in sheer delight when he entered her, responding eagerly to the long, drawn-out pace he set.

Her climax took her by surprise, sending her body rigid as she felt his seed, hot and wonderful, inside her.

They curled together in the furs that she loved better than any wood-and-rope bed because she and Talorc shared them.