Page 46 of Rory

She stiffened, aghast that she had inadvertently reminded him of what he’d lost. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that my family isn’t dead yet. They couldn’t be.”

“We dinnae ken what the outside world shall become if we escape. We may emerge in my time, or yours, or be separated and scattered.” Farlan regarded her steadily. “’Tis why the laird seeks to repair our prison, I reckon. In the spell trap we’re sure of being with our lovers. He seeks to assure that continues, ’tis all.”

“So Tasgall wants to spend forever with Ava.” She understood that, although it irked her that the rest of them had to suffer for what the laird wanted. Then a thought came into her head: I’m not suffering. I love being here with Darro. I miss my family, but they have each other. I only have my man. I never want to be anywhere but with him.

“When Grace and I pledged ourselves, she told me that only together could we be enough to make up for all that we’d suffered,” the seneschal said softly. “Loving her, ’tis healed me of wounds I’ve carried all my long life. She’s all I want and need. Darro, he’s the same for you, and you for him.”

“Yes. That’s why I shouldn’t tell anyone else about this. Right?” When he nodded she wrinkled her nose. “Thank you for talking this through with me. Seeing it from another perspective makes all the difference. Also, if for any reason you ever need a non-judgmental listener, Farlan, come find me.”

He stood and bowed to her. “Ever I shall, my lady.”

Esme left the great hall and made her way up to the solar, which she and Darro had turned into their personal retreat. Although she expected to find it empty, instead she saw her guy arranging something on the table between the two chairs where they sat every night to talk.

“Hey, mi corazón,” she said as she came in, and grinned as she saw the feast he had prepared for them: little cakes topped with cream and fruit, honeyed nuts and spiced popcorn. He’d also made two of the yogurt drinks they both loved. “Didn’t you have to hear reports from the captains tonight?”

“My brother shall attend to them in my stead.” He came over and folded her in his arms. “I told him I need a night with my lady.”

Thrilling heat shot through her as the chieftain lifted her off her feet to kiss her all over her face. By the time he reached her lips she’d begun sweating, and when he drew back she clutched at him to hold him against her.

“Dinnae you wish your midnight feast, my heart?” he asked, his eyes darkened with his own desires.

“Later.” She took him by the hand and led him to the big bed they shared every night. “I need to work up an appetite.”

Darro had once been too afraid to touch her, thanks to a partial spell Bodach had cast over him. Now as he undressed her he caressed her with confidence, knowing exactly where to stroke and squeeze and hold her. The man could arouse her with one small, hooded look, but it was when he put his hands on her that Esme found herself becoming a shivery, needy wild thing.

“You take too long,” she scolded him as she unfastened his trouser lacings, and pushed them down to free his big, hard cock. She then grabbed his shoulders and pulled herself higher until he pressed between her thighs. Sinking down on him stretched her, but she’d grown so wet she was able to take every thick inch into her pussy.

“I’m glad we covered the walls,” Darro teased her. “Else the watchers should now watch us.”

“Shhh.” She sank down to his root, clenching around him as she watched his face. “Dios mio, you’re just what I need. Now and always, mi vida.”

As she worked herself over him, Darro’s big body tensed. The way she used her softness to grip his steel-hard shaft as he stroked in and out of her drove him wild enough to lose his inhibitions. He wanted to come all over her, Esme knew, so he could mark her as his. Then, with the silkiness of his seed all over her, he’d fuck her for hours.

“Yes, please,” she told him, and shivered as he lowered her onto her back and withdrew from her.

Esme took hold of his gleaming cock, stroking it slowly as he parted her folds and rubbed her clit with his thumb. They both watched each other, their eyes filled with love, and too soon they began trembling on the brink.

“Give me your love,” she murmured, gripping him tighter and stroking him fast, releasing a breath as his shaft jerked and the first thick ribbon fell on her heaving breasts.

“Aye, my heart. ’Tis ever and always yours.” He moved closer as he jetted over her belly and sex, bathing her sweat-slick skin and exposed clit until she exploded with delight.

He tumbled down beside her, and held her as they looked up at the night sky. Being with him was all she could ever choose, Esme thought, even if it meant never again seeing the rest of her family. He had become so much a part of her she grew lonely and hollow even when they were separated for a few hours.

Without Darro, she would have no love or life.

Bodach gazed over his revenant army, smiling with satisfaction over how fearful they appeared. Whatever the McKeran Clan did to them, they would not stop fighting until their bodies fell to pieces. He’d also armed each one with a dirk or sword coated with strychnine, which wouldn’t kill the clansmen, but it would incapacitate them in minutes, and make them wish for death.

“When I open the spell trap, proceed inside,” he told the dead men, and gestured toward the torchlit entrance. “You are to kill anyone who crosses your path until you can take control of the castle.”

A trilling laugh echoed in the hall behind him. “You’re mad, Goblin.”

Bodach turned around to regard the ancient being he hated almost as much as the McKeran. “We meet again, Chlíodhna.”

Of the same race as the old mage Aosda, the female only slightly resembled a mortal. Her dark green hair and long rabbit ears lay concealed under a hooded cloak, but the green quills forming brows over her huge brown eyes bristled as if she were some oversize porcupine. She hadn’t worn the mound of partly liquid jewels she favored today, but had dressed in a hand-sewn linen shift that looked older than his castle.

“I know what you’re planning to do with those rotted things,” she said, casting a disdainful look at his army. “This is your last chance to save yourself. Do not enter the spell trap again. Break the enchantment, release your prisoners, and accept your punishment.”

“If I don’t, what then? You’ll kill me?” Bodach slipped a hand into his pocket. “You know I can’t die any more than you can.”