Chapter Twenty
WHEN CHLOE CRIED outin pleasure and release—without question, the most intense thing he’d ever experienced—she took him with her. He thrust deep one last time and locked up, his ballocks tightening so hard then releasing in such a heavy gush that his body shook.
He sank down onto his elbows with her heels still lodged in his arse, her muscles tight while her climax continued peaking. Lost in the moment, lost in her, he rested his cheek beside hers, immersed in the flowery scent of her heated body trembling before she relaxed. Rather than pull away, he stayed where he was, enjoying the way she milked him. How she seemed to draw him into her even more.
It felt like coming home.
Like he was wanted there.
Though Chloe remained silent, he heard her churning thoughts more clearly than before. Questions brimmed, but she kept quiet because she felt they were inappropriate. That she had no right asking.
Whether or not she did, he found he wanted to answer her.
He wanted only honesty between them.
So he tucked her beside him, enjoying the soft warmth of her curves. “’Tis all right to ask, lass.”
She hesitated before she spoke. “Yeah?”
“Aye,” he said softly, knowing this had to do with Maeve. That Chloe had sensed she’d been the only other lass he’d lain with.
“I guess I just had a different idea about this era,” she murmured. “That it was more old-fashioned. That people got married before sleeping together. Or at least women anyway because I can't imagine men holding back.” Her eyes met his, and she got to the point. What she truly wondered about. “I guess I was just curious if you asked Maeve to marry you at some point?”
“Aye, within days of meeting her, actually.” He sighed. “Then, God knows how many more times over the years.” He shrugged, remembering all too well Maeve’s evasiveness. “After a time, it became more of an assumed thing, and the intimacy just came with the assumption, I suppose.”
Looking back on it, the intimacy almost seemed like something they did out of curiosity more than anything. Because it had felt good. Nothing like what he’d just experienced with Chloe, though. Which made him wonder how real the passion between him and Maeve had ever really been.
“It seems faery magic can only do so much,” he said softly, knowing she had followed those thoughts. While Chloe might have given her love for him to Maeve, he now knew it hadn’t translated to the flesh. Not like it should have.
“Speaking of faeries,” she murmured on a yawn. “I think I figured out...”
When she trailed off, he realized she had fallen asleep mid-sentence. Interestingly, it wasn’t just from their intimacy, but because her magic had been igniting on and off the whole time. Though tempted to wake her to find out what she had discovered, she looked too peaceful. So he tucked her under the fur by his side and drifted off, not lured by monsters in nightmares this time but lulled by soothing dreams.
Sometimes he was in the forest, sometimes at the ocean or by a trickling stream. All were awash in sunlight and very quiet. Not a chilling silence as though something dark and sinister approached, but reverently quiet as though the woodland creatures were at peace. Safe. As if they had no predators, so they need not be watchful.
“Because of you,” he whispered when one dream curled into another, and he sat by a waterfall. Though he felt like himself, his hands and clothing were different. He touched his face only to find that had changed as well.
Rather than panic, he felt contentment because he knew Chloe was there. This was a previous life. Sometimes he swore he saw her, but he always felt her. More often than not, she talked back. This time, however, she remained silent but comforting. Here for him in a way he had grown accustomed to. Dependable in a way that soothed him.
Again and again.
Over and over.
“Chloe,” he whispered only for the dream to fade.
Desperate to keep her close, he reached out only to find her already in his arms, still sound asleep. The sun had just broken over the horizon, and he sensed Tiernan was up and about. A good sign indeed that his magic was stabilizing some.
So he dressed and joined him.
“How fares yer lass?” Tiernan asked after letting him know that he had seen Grant and Adlin last night, too, and was caught up on things. He’d hunted and now roasted a hare over a fire. The rain had finally stopped, but it remained chilly and blustery.
“Chloe’s coming into her magic fast,” he revealed. “But dealing with it verra well.”
“’Tis good to hear.” Tiernan sat across from him, rotating the spit with a dash of magic. He looked at Aidan with concern. “’Tis quite a thing she did for ye when she was a faery.” He cocked his head. “What do ye make of it, Cousin?”
“Honestly?” he replied. “It feels as though a great weight has lifted off my shoulders and I am nae completely sure why.”
“Mayhap because yer heart is free to love again,” Tiernan said softly.
