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Envy.
“You may enter,” he said, and Macha snapped the cloak shut.
She opened the door to Dagda’s room and slipped inside.
His bedchamber was an eclectic gathering of materials. Scattered on the table lay uneaten food from dinner, mixed with papers he must have been going through before bed. Unwashed muddy boots rested next to old swords that leaned against his armoire. Signs that he rarely allowed servants to tend to his surroundings. Books sat on a night table next to his bed, mostly histories and folklore, underneath a low lit lantern.
And then there was Dagda, sitting on his covers, his shirt cast onto the foot of his mattress. Macha’s eyes traveled over the planes of his chest, a warmness smoldering in her belly.
She inched farther into the room. “Good evening, Dagda,” she whispered. “I know things between us were left rather tense. But I wanted to make it up to you.”
She loosened the chords on the cloak and it dropped to the floor like the last gasp of autumn.
The coverings she chose concealed very little. A golden collar at her throat attached to two white gauzy strips of fabric that split between her breasts and pulled together at her hips. At her waist, a silken belt held the loose fabric in place, where two more strips of gauzy white cloth whispered between her legs and against her buttocks. The lights gave a gentle sheen to her skin. She’d lathered herself in a sweet smelling cream found in her bathroom. The soft scent of lavender and wildwoods drifted off her.
Macha preferred to wear nothing on such occasions, but the delicate clothing helped conceal the invisible dagger, should he touch her.
Dagda’s gaze roved over her body, taking in her bare skin. Her hair lay gentle and loose around her shoulders. Desire ignited in his eyes, and it was all Macha needed.
She moved to him and kissed him. Not softly, not gently. She kissed him like she owned him. Her hands pressed against his chest, dragging downward and felt his abs harden under her touch. He leaned into her. She bit onto his lower lip and a low growl escaped him. Her body warmed, and she crawled into his lap. The thunk of the book hitting the floor followed with his hand slipping up her back, gliding into her hair. A triumph prowled through her veins. She’d claim him for herself.
He broke the kiss, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his expression heated, tortured.
She twisted, placing her legs on either side of him, to bare her full body to him. “How long has it been, Dagda?” she murmured, leaning into him, listening to his breath catch. She traced casual circles on his chest, growing wider and wider, dipping lower and lower. “How long has it been since you satisfied those relentless urges in the arms of another? How long have you desired to savor a lover’s caress, taking them at your pleasure, feeling yourself inside them, your body begging for release? How long has it been building.” She kissed his jaw. “Building.” She kissed his chest. “Building.” She kissed his stomach. His muscles spasmed under her mouth.
Morrigan nearly broke loose from Badb’s grasp. And oh, the rage, the indignation. Badb clamped down on Morrigan, but the fury lingering in Macha’s stomach only fueled the yearning need to unbearable heights.
She leaned even closer, her mouth peppering his collarbone, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her hands dropping to his pants.
His arm came around her waist, and he rolled her onto her back. Warm fingers grabbed her wrists as he shoved up off her, pinning her to the bed.
“That’s enough, Macha,” he growled.
So he recognized her. But she sensed his desire, saw it in the flash of his eyes, in how his torso dipped toward her, in the way the words rasped out of him.
Just a little more and he would be hers.
“But Dagda, this is your oncemate’s body. I’m offering it to you freely. Who knows how long until she will allow you to touch her, to make love to her? If ever.” Her mouth twisted knowingly. “Then again, I can always get her drunk once more for you, but she will hate you afterward. Is that why you stopped the other night when you had her at your mercy? Come now.Iam willing. I can feel how much you want this. Why deny yourself the most natural yearnings of your body?”
She slid her knee between his legs, pressing. Dagda moaned and dropped onto her. A dark, sensuous smile curved Macha’s lips. She felt his heart pounding in his breast. Sensed the hardness of his form. She would have him here and now.
And why not? Why not delight his body before the end of all things? She’d grant him an ecstasy that Morrigan would never get the chance to provide. A revenge so sweet, her chest burned with it.
She would drag it out and enjoy every second.
Dagda only ground harder against her. Ah, he was getting into it, she thought. Until Macha found she couldn’t move.
His burning eyes bored into hers, as if he were looking into her soul. His breaths came deep and labored. Lowering his head, warm lips grazed Macha’s ear. “You tell Morrigan,” he rumbled. “Ifsheeverdesires to make love. It will be slow and sensual. My mouth, my hands, every part of me stimulating her into the most exquisite euphoria. I will make it last—so very long. Until she cries my name. Until sweat slicks her body and we collapse from exhaustion.”
A moan drew from Macha’s lips. Mother Goddess.
He released her and rolled onto his side of the bed. “Go to sleep, Macha.”
It is time,Badb said in her mind.His guard is down. It is my turn to act.
No,Macha thought, the beat of her heart pounded in rhythm with the unforgiving thudding between her thighs.I want him.
Remember the real purpose of this,Badb snarled. We agreed this must be done. Let me out now!
