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Rhiannon started, shocked to the core and yet hellishly aroused as his fingers found their way inside her pants and underwear, and stroked her pussy. Heady desire sluiced through her groin, her body responding keenly to his attentions. He hauled her clothing down her hips and dropped down to nestle his face against the warm, tender spot between her thighs. Rhiannon swore beneath her breath, her clit throbbing wildly as he closed. Then she felt the sharp edge of his fangs as his face moved over her tender flesh and cried out, her body pressed hard against the pillows at her back.
Undeterred, he threw his head back as if he had found salvation. Grasping at his throat, he ripped at the tattered fabric covering his body. With a wrench his cloak was gone and his shirt was gaping wide. Once his chest was bared in the moonlight she saw that it was covered the raised tattoo of healing scars. His hands clawed at them, a guttural sound of pleasure in his throat.
A sense of identification hit the pit of her belly, hot and restless.
"Oh, fuck," she muttered, confusion hitting her when she realized how readily her body was responding to him. She should be trying to break free. Instead she was noticing how hot he was. Arousal and fear had twisted together in her veins, a heady concoction.
His head snapped back as he focused on her again.
She swallowed her words, wishing she had kept quiet. He was some sort of wild animal, for Christ's sake.
His eyes were glazed and he looked at her with purpose, real purpose. He moved closer against her, brushing his cheek against hers, nuzzling her.
"Edgar?"
When she said the name aloud, he growled, and the sound was filled with pleasure.
"Edgar." She said it again, and again.
As she did images began to spill through her mind: memories.
The night he'd first carried her to this bed—their wedding night.
The night he'd been turned half-feral—and her fear.
The night her family had taken her away from this place—and her pain.
He turned his head and brushed her mouth with hers, gently, giving her the strangest, most seductive kiss, as if attempting to soothe her. He knew she was afraid.
"Edgar, I remember," she whispered.
She'd been forced to leave him and it broke her heart. She'd lived a pain-filled existence, her life an empty void without him. Kept under lock and key by her family, those people who thought he had driven her insane, those who believed their duty was to protect her from what she wanted beyond life itself: her husband. Through many lives over she had felt the pain and heard his call. Her place was by his side, and destiny had finally allowed her to make her way back to him. Emotion swelled in her chest. She put her fist to her breastbone, something he had done when he first told her he loved her and wanted her to be his wife.
When he saw that, heat from his body swept through her, and something else in its wake, a deep recognition of his nature. Feral, sexual, predatory—overwhelmingly seductive.
"Rhiannon, my love," he whispered, his voice hoarse from lack of use.
She stared into his black eyes, mesmerized by him, her heart thudding wildly. She nodded. "Yes, I've come home."
She could do nothing but whimper in supplication when he pushed her legs apart. Then the scent of the moor and something else, like moss, escaped from his hair and immersed her senses in earthiness. A flood of heat hit her groin, sexual and fierce. She cried out, not with fear but with relief, when she felt the warm lap of his tongue pushing into her slit and riding firmly up against her clit. And then he was moving rhythmically, his tongue lapping over her sensitized flesh, eating her up. She arched back against the bed, her body supine and willing. Each lap of his tongue freed bolts of pleasure deep inside her. Her juices were running. She could hear his hungry gulps as he lapped her up, and she was gone on it. He sucked and lapped at her until she was blinded with ecstasy.
She became frantic as the sensation built towards its peak. He gripped her hips, latched his teeth over her clit, his tongue lapping at it from beneath. The riot of nerves condensed then peaked. Her hips bucked, her climax sending a deep long shudder through her body. He released her, pushing her legs wide apart, he moved down where her buttocks and thighs were sticky and damp with her juices, his tongue lapping all the while, spinning out the pleasure for her.
Need to feed. The words whispered around her mind.
Need you, Rhiannon. You have come home to me. We will be as one.
It was then that he bit. Then, when her groin was hot and heavy with blood and pleasure. His fangs sank into the juncture of her thigh where the artery pumped fierce and strong. Pain and pleasure spiraled through her, her body jolting over and again. She felt him drawing on her life force and she heard her own moans of pleasure echoing overhead, tasted her own blood in her mouth as she thrashed and bucked beneath him, the bite as fiercely climactic as the orgasm had been.
Eventually he lifted his head and climbed alongside her, his mouth and chin dark with blood. He placed damp, sticky kisses on her throat, and then rested his face between her breasts, licking the scratches there. He eased back and rasped his tongue over her ragged flesh. Healing you.
She understood. She didn't flinch.
Then came the thrust of his cock. The sudden stretch and fullness stole her breath. As she sucked oxygen back in to her lungs, the memories of their frantic lovemaking swamped her consciousness. It was as if she were back there in his time again, where she should always have been. As she thought that, so his visage became more human. Her submission was bringing him fully back to her. They were joining, not only in body and soul, but in time and place.
"How I have longed for this," he said, and began to drive like a man possessed, claiming every part of her.
The firm thrust of his cock at her center made her growl aloud, the pressure of his body there too exquisite. Each thrust bonded them, each grateful touch treasured. The slick draw of her body on his was audible, their lovemaking filling the room with heat and noise. Her skin was hot and damp, her clit thrumming with sensation beneath the weight of his body. She clawed at him, her hips arching to meet his, the reunion too poignant to sustain.
