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“Good.” She agreed.
“Come.” He cradled her closer. “We need to sleep.”
“We do.” She answered boneless.
Wrapped in each other, they fell in a sated slumber.
~.~.~
Middle of the night, Taran awoke, lying on his back. The wee hurricane climbed on him, just as she did in the woods when he went to fetch her. Tangled in him, as if she could not bear to be distant, she sought him unconscious and involved them in her receptive warmth
Unlike that night, he did not refrain from doing what he had wanted then. Under the coverlet, his hands caressed her silky skin, her hair spread over his chest. Calm breaths, given to him, her perfume in his nostrils. Her proximity soothed his insides.
This woman never ceased to amaze him. The way she surrendered all heat, passion and woman made him desire her more. And more.
Her warmth so close made him wish this happened often. She barged into his life and it would not be the same again, he esteemed. Neither did he want it to be. It was as though a blinding torch illuminated every corner here. Despite her fierce personality, she was generous. Heart open to his son and his struggles, she offered the boy affectionate comfort, not minding he was a McDougal, or his son, for that matter. Compassionate and understanding, she saw through the smoke scream right to the core of the matter. And did not use it against them, but to help them. Which surprised him in her circumstances. This elicited admiration from Taran. Difficult to find one such as her.
In the morning, he would propose to her in a proper way, he decided, as his hand roamed her dainty spine. She deserved his utter respect.
Abruptly, her head raised from his chest. “Oh, drat!” She emitted a discontent moan.
And tried to go from him.
His arm held her waist. “Stay.” Fingers combed her glossy hair. “I like it when you climb on me.”
Her length wriggled on him, adjusting her position. He liked it even more.
“I do not imagine what comes over me to do this.” She commented, eyeing him in the dimming fire.
“Never did this before, I gather.” He wanted to be the only man with whom she did it.
She wriggled again, this time to reach his face. “Not that I remember.” Her mouth traced his bristle jaw.
Her wriggling began to put him in a very awkward… condition.
He groaned with both caresses. “Good. And it will continue this way.”
A new rustle fired his flesh. “Possessive, are we?” Her mouth reached the corner of his.
“Always.” He admitted. The only woman with whom he acted thusly, strange as it might be.
Her body grazed him anew, to nibble his lip.
“Stop moving, woman, if you do not want me to— “ She did it once more, the provocative witch.
This became too much for him. He rolled them to pin her to the sheets. Their stares collided.
“Damn you, Aleen!” His chest registered her pebbling breasts. “You must be sore.”
Her hands caressed his firm buttocks, suggestive. “I am in sore need you take me again.”
No answer came other than his mouth plunging on hers. His flesh sank in her and in seconds they lost themselves to reality as passion devoured them one more time.
~.~.~
In the faint light of pre-dawn, Aileen watched Taran sleep sprawled on the overturned sheets. Like a Celtic god in his deserved repose. Very deserved, for they could not harness their esurience for each other in the night. They sated one another repeatedly, as if there must be only the two of them in the universe.
One arm over his brow, his entire length at her mercy to look her fill. Hair sprinkled broad chest, packed abdomen, narrow hips, muscled thighs. The temptation to explore him yet again strong in her.
