“Mmm, Olivia, ye taste so sweet,” he groaned, his voice muffled by her hot flesh as he plunged his fingers rhythmically into her.
Just as the waves threatened to crash over her, she felt his body stiffen too, his member like steel in her hands. His rapid movements echoed hers as the rising energy became impossible to resist and sent them both tumbling over the edge in a shattering, shared climax.
After a few moments spent catching their breath and cradling each other, Edan whispered, “Och, that was… that was… mmm.”
“Aye, it was wonderful,” Olivia panted happily, flushed and hot but very content.
Feeling a great burst of love for him, she turned onto her side and threw an arm and leg over his body, nestling into him, enjoying the feel of their sweat-slicked skin sliding against each other.
“I feel so amazing!”
He sighed, brushing her hair from her face and peppering it with kisses. “Aye, ye’re delicious, Olivia, and the things ye were doin’ to me, well…” He smiled and shook his dark locks, gazing at her with soft, dark eyes.
She reached up and stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “I can still feel ye touchin’ me, feel yer fingers inside me,” she whispered, gazing at him wonderingly.
He hugged her close, letting out a small chuckle as he kissed her gently. “I can feel ye too, bonny lass. And I want more,” he said against her mouth.
“But do ye nae want to… ye ken… go all the way?” she asked hesitantly, trailing her fingers through his chest hair.
He shook his head. “Nay, nae yet. As much as I want ye, we should wait until we’ve had our last outing. That was the deal, remember?”
“That’s right, aye. Well, if ye’re happy to wait, then so am I,” she said a little reluctantly.
She laid her head on his chest and breathed in his musky scent, listening to his heart beating steadily beneath her ear. Lying in his arms, she felt a happiness she had never felt before.
And this time,I hope it will stay this way for good.
20
But sadly, confusingly, it did not. In the following days between the Feast of Saint Patrick and the ancient, pagan celebration of the Turning of the Light, despite their recent intimacy, Edan continued to keep his distance from her.
As the festival approached, there was a sense of growing excitement within the castle. It was abuzz with preparations. Delicious aromas wafted up from the kitchens, where vast amounts of food were being cooked. Animals were slaughtered and butchered, ready to be spit-roasted at the celebration itself, and barrels of ale and crates of wine and whisky were brought up from the cellars to ensure plenty of refreshments for the revelers.
In the Great Hall, musicians practiced their playing, and outside in the pastures surrounding the castle, teams of men busied themselves with building bonfires that would be lit on the night of the vernal equinox, their flames celebrating the beginning of spring.
“Someone’s goin’ to die soon, for certain,” Megan was saying as she put away a load of clean linen in Olivia’s chest of drawers.
It was the afternoon of the day of the festival, and the sisters were spending some peaceful time together before attending the celebration that evening.
“Ach, how do ye make that out?” Eileen asked with faint exasperation. She was reclining on her sister’s bed, a book in her hand. “Just because a dog howled? Lord, we’d all better watch out if that’s the case. We’ll be droppin’ like flies.”
“It didnae just howl, Lady Eileen,” Megan said over her shoulder. “It howled three times in a row and then stopped. Nae two, nae four, but three. Everyone kens that’s an omen foretellin’ of death soon to come.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of it. Ye worry too much about such things, Megan. Ye’re always seein’ death or bad luck in quite ordinary things. Ye’ll drive yerself mad if ye carry on like that,” Eileen told her. “Have any of yer predictions ever come true?”
“Some of them take time to come true, but they always do in the end, mark me words. Ye’ll see I’m right. There’s an imminent death.”
“Ach, folks die all the time.”
“A death here, at the castle,” the maid said, closing the drawer. She turned around, arms akimbo, and asked Eileen, “Did Lady Aberfeld tell ye about the strange dream she kept havin’?”
Eileen perked up. “Nay. What dream is this, Olivia?”
Olivia was sitting at her writing desk, where she had been trying for the last hour to compose a letter to her elder sister, Tilly, asking for marriage advice. Despite the approaching celebration, all she could think about was Edan and what to do about her situation.
“Olivia!”
“Hmm? What?” Startled out of her thoughts, Olivia turned her head and looked at Eileen.
