Page 26 of Basket Case

The wicker around my wrists fell away. I collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, and the cock inside me softened before slipping out. Aonghus released my hips as I rolled onto my back.

A man knelt where the basket had been.

His dark hair fell past his shoulders with several green leaves caught amongst the strands. Fine brown markings crossed his arms and chest in the same pattern as the creel’s weave, disappearing beneath the hair leading down his stomach. I intended to examine his face first, but he was completely naked and his cock was still hard and wet from being inside me.

I was somewhat distracted.

He flexed his fingers, staring at them as though hands were alien to him. Then he looked at me.

His eyes were the deep green of the leaves. They were beautiful and utterly non-human.

“You’re a man.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “I told you I was not a basket.”

His spoken voice was rougher than the one I had heard inside my head. It carried the same deep tone, but now I could hear his breath beneath it.

“What happened?”

Aonghus looked over his shoulder. The creel lay in pieces across the foot of the bed, its rigid sides reduced to loose willow strands and broken hoops. He touched one of the brown markings on his chest.

“The binding is gone.”

“I freed you?”

His gaze returned to me. “You spoke my name.”

“I said it earlier.”

“Not like that.” He looked as confused as I was. “You surrendered yourself to me freely, then called me by my true name while I held you. The old promise must have recognised that I was no longer being kept against my will.”

“That was the answer?”

“It appears so.”

I began to laugh. Generations of MacRae women had searched for the right ritual, and I had broken the enchantment through bondage, double penetration and an extremely well-timed orgasm.

Gran was never going to hear the full details.

Aonghus climbed over me, bracing one hand beside my head. His hair brushed my breasts, carrying the scent of wet leaves and wood smoke.

“Say it again.”

His cock pressed against my thigh. Apparently, being freed hadn’t affected his recovery time.

“Aonghus.”

He closed his eyes as if hearing his name in my voice was almost as good as the orgasm.

Then he kissed me.

EPILOGUE

Aonghus refused to wear shoes.

I’d found an old pair of trousers and a shirt at the back of Gran’s wardrobe, both of which had probably belonged to my grandfather. The trousers stopped above Aonghus’s ankles, while the shirt strained across his shoulders whenever he moved. Shoes, however, were apparently an insult to the Gille Dubh who wanted to be in touch with nature at all times.

“You may have walked into the village naked for most of your life,” I reminded him as we followed the lanterns towards the bonfire. “But standards have changed. If you do it now, you'll be arrested.”