Dawn Of Desire Read online

  “I did not mean to insult your pride,” she apologized calmly, “but by whatever means necessary, I’ll endeavor to safeguard your life. For the moment, I’ve no more than a haunting sensation of sorrow and loss. It may be your mother’s spirit lingering near those she loved, or merely the trick of a chilly draft. I’d not mentioned it for fear of distracting you when you must focus your wits on Kieran’s challenge.”

  Oriana hoped he would accept that partial truth, for it was all she cared to disclose without proof of a sinister plot that might have been set in motion years ago. “You’re the only one who confides in me, Egan. All the others here regard me as an unwelcome stranger.”

  “Not Albyn, surely,” Egan posed.

  Oriana escaped his grasp to caress his temple and wound a lazy curl around her finger. “No, he has been friendly.” Much too friendly in her view, but that opinion was best left unspoken as well.

  Egan studied the sadness of her expression and wished he could make her smile as she had that afternoon. He again caught her hand in a fond clasp. “I’m sorry we had to spend so much time pretending we’d rather entertain my guests than be alone here. I can’t promise that my life will ever become any less demanding, but you’ll always be first in my heart.”

  It was a very thoughtful vow, but only served to increase her fear that their time together was merely an enchanted interlude not unlike the one her own parents had initially shared. It would not have to last, however, for her to believe he loved her deeply.

  As a slight smile graced Oriana’s lips, Egan was no longer satisfied to simply have found a goddess wandering the earth in a patched cloak. Now he longed to know how she had spent every day since the moment of her birth. He craved even the smallest detail, a fleeting fright, an unexpected joy, the sum of experience that had created such a captivating creature. He hoped for a long, severe winter that would keep them locked in each other’s arms while they reminisced after making love.

  “Sing Lugh’s song for me,” he begged. “Make it part of our memories of tonight.”

  It was a touching request, but Oriana shook her head. “I’m not certain I can conjure up the tune; you fill my thoughts so completely there’s scant room for Lugh.”

  Egan had never knelt at a woman’s feet, but it was not at all uncomfortable. In fact, he rather liked the pressure of her long, shapely legs against his chest. “I ask only for his song, not for a visit from the god himself.”

  Yet even as he spoke, the logs on the hearth shifted with a loud crackle and sent a plume of bright sparks dancing wildly above the flames.

  The timing of the impressive display startled Egan, but he recovered sufficiently to offer a confident challenge, “If that’s you, Lugh, I mean to wed your beautiful daughter.” Anticipating a fiery response, he held his breath, but the glowing hearth offered no additional signs of a blessing or curse.

  “Do you see what tricks your imagination plays?” Oriana asked pointedly. “I want only you here, not Lugh. Let’s create our own song if you must have a melody to accompany your memories.”

  While Egan was not so easily convinced that Lugh had not just sent a mischievous puff into the fire, he rose to join her on the bed. Then with a low, hungry growl, he caught her in his arms. “You never do anything I ask, do you?”

  Oriana placed her hands on his chest in gentle reproach. “That’s untrue,” she protested. “I went to the feast with you tonight, did I not? It was not the first such meal I’ve attended.”

  Egan responded with a grudging nod. “Aye, you have been at my side when I demanded it, but then tonight, as always, you did as you pleased.”

  Oriana’s posture stiffened. “Would you rather I silently sipped wine until I had to be carried from the hall like more than one of your female relatives?”

  Egan nibbled her ear. “I’d hoped you’d not notice the women who are overly fond of wine. In the future, we must dilute theirs with even more water.”

  The slight growth of his beard tickled her throat, and Oriana’s pose softened as she leaned into his playful caress. “Perhaps the real problem lies not in the strength of the wine, but in the lack of a husband’s affections.”

  “It could well be, but you’ll never suffer such a tragic fate.” Tightening his embrace, he lured her down onto the furs and captured her mouth for a long, lavish kiss.

  In but a moment, Oriana felt his teasing mood change with the quickening of his breath. This was where he had pulled away from her that afternoon, but now, rather than being edged with caution, his kiss was suffused with desire. Deeply grateful, she welcomed his passion. There was no need to recall a haunting melody when he would be her first and only lover.

  When he at last allowed her a moment to catch her breath, she whispered against his ear, “Are our clothes not in the way?”

  Embarrassed that he had once discarded his so recklessly by the shore, Egan raised up only long enough to peel off his long tunic and toss it aside.

  “There is no need to rush,” he assured her.

  Oriana trailed her hand over his warm, bare shoulder. “No need for you, perhaps.”

  Amused by her suggestive tone, Egan chuckled softly. “I mean to have you for a lifetime, my lady.”

  Knowing some lifetimes were tragically brief, Oriana could not help but think of his mother, who must have died so very young. “I fear a lifetime with you may not be nearly long enough.”

  “Then we must savor every moment.” Shifting his position slightly, Egan twisted his hands through her curls to hold her still for another deep kiss.

  Cherishing every nuance of the affectionate exchange, Oriana sighed softly and then, with sudden alarm, confessed, “Rather than only seventeen summers, I’ve actually seen nineteen.”

  Charmed by her candor, Egan indulged in another deeply satisfying kiss before leaning back to prop his head on his elbow. “I would love you even if it had been two hundred to my mere twenty-seven.”

  The smoky scent of the fire blended smoothly with the lavender perfume of Adelaine’s clothes, but Oriana craved more of Egan’s clean, masculine essence. She snuggled close and breathed deeply. As always, he smelled so good, like soap and leather with a lingering hint of the mysterious forest depths. Beneath her fingertips, she felt the pulse in his throat beating in a sure, steady rhythm, and she fought to silence her fears.

  His bare chest was so inviting, her own clothes were proving to be a frustrating distraction, and she sat up to pull off her sleeveless tunic, then leaned down to remove her shoes. “Perhaps you enjoy making love in your clothes, but I doubt that I shall.”

  Egan watched as she stood to remove the golden torque he had placed around her neck and the delicate wooden beads his father had carved. He stretched lazily as she slid off her simple gold bracelet, and thought that even if they were blessed with a hundred years together, he would never tire of her guileless grace. He imagined the distant future when her hair would be a glossy silver rather than gold, and still she was so beautiful it took his breath away.

  Unable to bear even a brief separation, he rolled off the bed, caught her in a warm embrace and nearly crushed her against his chest. “You’re right,” he admitted hoarsely. “Our clothes are in the way.”

  As he dropped his hands, Oriana stepped back to unfasten his belt. “So you admit that I’m right about at least one thing?”

  Egan sucked in his breath as her fingertips brushed his bare belly. He caught her wrists before she could undress him. “Wait. First you must remove your gown.”

  That she had caused the catch in his voice made Oriana smile. “As you wish,” she replied. She bent to grasp her hem, and with a slow, easy twist pulled the lovely garment off over her head.

  Egan had forgotten that she would be wearing a lace-trimmed shift underneath, and he waited impatiently as she laid her dress aside. When she turned back toward him, the rosy tips of her breasts were clearly outlined against the sheer linen, and it was all he could do not to rip her shift from neckline to hem wi
th a single quick lunge.

  Fighting for control, he ran his palms down his thighs and reminded himself that she was not only a rare beauty, but also an innocent who undoubtedly had no real understanding of what the night would bring. If he did not take care, there was a risk of frightening her so badly that she might also prefer wine to her husband’s company. Avoiding that wretched consequence would be worth the effort, but when he wanted her so badly, he was uncertain how he would maintain the necessary restraint.

  Fearing the chamber was too brightly lit for modesty’s sake, he glanced toward the fire, and when he looked back toward Oriana, her shift lay pooled at her feet. With her stately elegance clothed, he had known she would be enchanting nude, but rather than demure, her glance was curious and direct. He tried to smile, but feared his expression conveyed only awestruck wonder.

  Which of us is the true innocent here? he wondered. Before he could gather his wits to comment on her beauty, she crossed the distance between them in a single gliding step, and he was lost in her before their lips met in another lingering kiss. He picked her up to lay her across his bed, then sloughed off his pants and kicked them away.

  With no effort to hide his erection, Egan stretched out beside her. Drawn by her enticing curves, he immediately slid his tongue over her breasts to lave the tender crests, and then pulled the puckered buds through his teeth. He traced the smooth fullness of her hip, caressed the length of her thigh, and then tightened his hand around her narrow waist to draw her close.

  Oriana danced her fingertips across his broad back. Her touch strayed along the puckered edge of an old scar before plunging down over his hip, and certain of her goal, he quickly laced his fingers in hers to keep his desire focused upon pleasing her.

  He knew he would never feel a greater joy, but he wanted so desperately for her to share it. He kissed her until they were both breathless and dizzy, and then shifted his position slightly to trail affectionate nibbles over her ribs and down into the gentle bowl of her stomach. A playfully sloppy kiss at her navel encouraged a rush of giggles, and straying lower, he rubbed his cheek against her soft triangle of golden curls.

  Growing increasingly bold, he nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled himself between her slender limbs. At the first tantalizing brush of his tongue, Oriana responded with a startled gasp, but as she arched her back to escape him, he slid his arms under her thighs, clamped his hands around her waist to hold her captive, and tilted her hips toward his mouth.

  He had never pleasured another woman in such an abandoned fashion, but none had ever been his Oriana. He lapped at the tender valley of her femininity and found her taste more luscious than any delicacy. He sampled, sipped, teased her delicate bud, then drank deeply, and still hungered for more.

  Oriana felt as though she were being devoured by Egan’s ravenous desire but after the initial shock, she was lost in rapture. Emboldened by her own desire, she grabbed handfuls of his long wavy hair to encourage more of the stunning kisses that sent tingling tremors of ecstasy clear to her toes. He kept yanking her closer, but she no longer wished to pull away.

  His tongue darted into her core, then swept up in a warm, wet arc to tempt her with glorious sensations. He traced the petals of her feminine flesh, nibbling gently, coaxing the surrender she was so eager to give. Her joy built with rippling waves that spiraled so tightly within her that the sweetness bordered pain.

  “Oh, please, no more,” she sobbed.

  As always, Egan was eager to argue, and without lifting his head, he slid a finger and then two inside to stroke her, lift her, carry her ever higher, until reaching the inevitable crest, she grabbed his wrist and writhed against his hand.

  At the height of that thrilling climax, stars burst around her in a shimmering haze, but as she floated to earth, their searing heat left her as limp as a wilted rose. Egan drew her into his arms, but drained of strength as well as desire, she remained sprawled across his chest for what could have been days before she was able to draw a breath deep enough to inspire coherent thought.

  Her mother had described the marriage act but not the depth of passion, nor the resulting pleasure, and Oriana wondered at that omission. Had Rain feared she would be so eager for a glimpse of the promised magic that at her first opportunity she would wed some handsome farmer?

  Egan had worked a kind of magic on her, she was positive of that, but she was not too dazed to realize they were not actually wed. She folded her hands across his chest, raised up slightly, then shoved her hair out of her eyes.

  “You should have come with me,” she scolded.

  Egan had every intention of doing just that, but he feigned confusion with a dipped brow. “And just where is that, my lady?”

  Oriana could feel the hard, blunt tip of his manhood against her thigh, and wished her mother had taken the time to instruct her in how to pleasure him. She licked her lips and then kissed him soundly. When the resulting taste was hers rather than his, she was embarrassed and yet deeply pleased.

  “It was nowhere I recognized,” she replied enticingly. “Perhaps it was the Otherworld.”

  Egan raised up to roll her off him into the furs, and then propped himself on his arms above her. “If it was the Otherworld, then now you know the way and can take me there.”

  Oriana reached up to ruffle his hair. “I would take you anywhere.”

  She drew a deep breath as he again parted her legs with his knee. Her mother had warned her that virgins could expect pain when they took a husband, but had claimed with Lugh, there had been only a joyous heat. Oriana did not fear the pain of joining with a mortal, but remained apprehensive a jealous god might again yank her from Egan’s arms.

  Dreading that possibility, she braced herself as Egan began to tease her not with his tongue, but with the soft, smooth tip of his shaft. Riding her own slippery wetness, he slid along her cleft, and on each downward stroke dipped low to brush against her maidenhead. His slow, taunting rhythm soon coaxed a fresh burst of desire from deep within her, and this time, she knew exactly where it would lead.

  Fascinated by her thoughtful lover, she coiled her arms around his and felt his muscles bulge as their shared rapture rose within him. His breath came in heated gasps. The sweat dripped from his brow to splatter on her breasts, and the need to feel him deep inside her grew to a now-familiar ache.

  She dropped her hands to grip his waist, and on his next shallow thrust, she shoved down to take him deep. He was hard and thick, and her maidenhead tore as he filled her, but there was not even a nip of pain. Instead, she was filled with a delicious heat that made her squirm to settle him deeper still.

  Taken by surprise, Egan went still, but when Oriana bucked beneath him, he lost all hope of restraint and began thrusting with a steadily increasing beat. He had wanted her so badly, but had never dreamed they would be so finely matched. Still, he held back his own release until he felt her welcoming contractions tighten around him.

  As he plunged into that bliss, his chamber exploded with a blinding flash even brighter than lightning. When a long while later, Oriana lay cradled in his arms, he was still too stunned by the magnificence of her loving to speak. Then she began to sing Lugh’s song as he had asked, and the poignant melody brought a rush of tears he hid in her tangled curls.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As was Kieran’s unfortunate custom, he had drunk too much wine that night. But the thought-blurring spirits had failed to dampen his rage. He had made a brave show at the feast, but he was still so furiously angry with Egan for winning the first contest that he felt as though his heart were leaking blood.

  Rather than show him the respect any worthy opponent deserved, throughout the evening Egan had not once glanced his way. Perhaps Egan was merely too besotted with his flame-haired whore to appreciate the risk his younger brother posed, but to dismiss him as inconsequential was unforgivable.

  Humiliated at being ignored, Kieran was eager to end the wretched evening, and soon after Egan and Oriana
had left the great hall, he also fled the crowd. He careened up the winding staircase, scraping his elbow on the way, and burst out onto the fog-shrouded battlements. The chill air slapped him back toward the doorway, but he sucked it in with deep, wrenching sobs. When he at last caught his breath, he stepped out on the wall walk and hurled his pain into the mist with a furious howl.

  He had been Cadell’s favorite. He had been the son with whom Cadell had hunted and raced. They had brandished spears and swords in contests so ferocious yet playful, their true purpose had been disguised. More important, he had been the faithful son who had remained at his father’s side. He had heard Cadell embellish the tales of his battles so frequently, it seemed as though he had fought by his side.

  Now he was left on his own to fight for the crown that was rightfully his. What did it matter that Egan was the firstborn when he had abandoned them all to spend the better part of each year chasing adventure?

  He yelled a challenge that soared over the roar of the churning sea and vowed that no matter what dare Egan devised for the morrow, he would turn it against him in a win so decisive it would end with the crowd chanting his name.

  “King!” he shouted into the night. “I will be king!”

  Long after midnight, Albyn was still too restless to sleep, and he sat slumped in his boyhood chamber with his head cradled in his hands. He felt he was a fool for wasting so many precious years among the Druids, and although he had voiced his discontent only to Egan, he feared his every move revealed the depth of his torment.

  An insistent tap at his door interrupted his musings, but he refused to respond when it was certain to be a Druidess seeking comfort from a virile young man. There had been a time when he would have welcomed such a diversion, but not now when losing himself in a woman’s heat would scarcely ease his pain.

  Yet the memory of physical pleasure brought a forbidden longing for Oriana’s graceful touch. He had caught a glimpse of forever in her golden eyes, and had she belonged to any other man, he would have courted her with such imaginative devotion she would surely have come to him most willingly.