Yanking her up until she was on her toes, Éibhear leaned down and took her mouth with his. Her thoughts tumbled away as his hands released her shirt and moved to her shoulders, shoving her back against the wall, his lips still against hers.
Sure, Izzy could have fought him off. He was a tough challenger, but so was she. But the truth was, Izzy didn’t want to fight him off. All these years, all her long days on patrol thinking about him and what he might be up to and those long nights in her bunk dreaming about him, this was what she’d always wanted.
Well, this and one other thing . . .
And deciding not to wait any longer for that, Izzy did what she’d dreamed of since the very moment she met Éibhear the Blue all those years ago.
She dug her hands into his blue hair and held on.
Gods, his hair. Not his hair!
All these years he’d never willingly let Izzy near his hair because . . . well, because he was afraid of this. Of what was happening right here.
When his mother, or Talaith, stroked his hair, he felt a great sense of comfort and, very often, quite sleepy. But from the first time Iseabail had dug her hands into his mane and demanded he take her flying, his feelings were far from comfortable or sleepy.
And he blamed the damn woman who, at the moment, had her fingers gripping his hair.
His hair!
Éibhear tried to pull her hands away, but Izzy only tightened her grip and kissed him harder. Her tongue slid inside his mouth and Éibhear used his body to pin her against the wall.
There were many things he should be doing. Either pushing her away or seducing her. He did neither. Like some out of control hatchling, he reached for her leggings, gripping them and pushing them down her hips.
He’d have been appalled by his lack of finesse, too, if Izzy hadn’t already beaten him to it, his leggings nearly around his knees.
By the time he got hers down to her knees, she’d already gotten off her boots. Seconds later she’d managed to get out of her leggings completely. One indescribably long leg wrapped around his waist—flexible!—and the other around his calf.
Then, with no thought or even a modicum of self-control, he lifted her just a bit and drove home with one brutal thrust, burying himself inside Izzy and making his c*ck the happiest thing on the planet!
Izzy barely managed to bite back a scream of pure pleasure and instead buried her mouth against the flesh between Éibhear’s neck and shoulder. She bit down hard and held on, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, while she tried to stop herself from saying or doing something—anything!—that might destroy whatever self-respect she’d built up for herself over the years.
Because, gods of thunder and suffering, this sudden, rather rude, entertainingly brutal f**k was turning out to be the best one she’d ever had. Without foreplay, without a kind word said between them, without a gods-damn bed!
But Izzy didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything at the moment. Especially once Éibhear started moving, his thrusts hard and merciless, his thick c*ck buried deep inside her.
She tightened her arms around him and unwrapped her leg from his calf so she could raise it and open herself more to him. She felt him growl against her neck where he’d buried his face. He braced his legs farther apart and his strokes became stronger, harder, his c*ck powering inside her.
Izzy began to shake, her grip on him becoming even tighter. So tight, she was grateful he wasn’t human. Grateful she wouldn’t have to revive him from strangulation or take him to a healer for broken bones.
The trembling began in her toes and raced up her legs and spine, spreading out through her body until an orgasm like she’d never felt before exploded from her, her screams lost against Éibhear’s neck.
When her entire body clenched around him and she screamed into his neck, Éibhear’s knees almost buckled and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
Then he came. Hard. Harder than he ever had before. So hard, he almost blasted the wall behind them with flame, and he had to fight hard to control the urge, not wanting to burn Izzy while in the throes of passion. That just seemed rude.
When he got the feeling back in his legs, Éibhear realized he had his leggings down around his ankles and his still-hard c*ck inside a half-naked and panting Iseabail.
A situation many might consider . . . awkward.
Chapter 19
Éibhear started to place her down on the table but seemed to reconsider that and pulled a large cloth from his travel bag, put it on the table, then carefully placed her nak*d ass on his uncle’s furniture. Once he had her there, he slowly backed up—and out—until he could sit down beside her.
And that’s what they did. They sat there, staring off at the wall across from them. In silence, they went on like that until Izzy couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Well . . . we got that out of our system.”
“Aye. That we did.”
“And now we can move forward.”
“Right.”
“Great.” Without looking at him, she reached over and patted his shoulder. “Glad we took care of that.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see him nod, but he still didn’t say anything. She was grateful. The last thing she needed at the moment was talk. Real talk anyway. She didn’t want to analyze what had just happened between them. She didn’t want to look for anything deeper and she definitely didn’t want to start talking regrets. Instead, she wanted the glow from that orgasm to last as long as it could and that meant no deep conversation with Éibhear and his deep thoughts.
Deciding escape was her best plan at the moment—as a general, she always knew when to retreat—Izzy slid off the table. “I’m off then. Dinner was great.”
She crouched down—she was not about to bend over—and picked up the rest of her clothes and walked toward those damn stairs again. The stairs she couldn’t quite manage to actually get up. Even now!
“You know . . .”
Izzy stopped at the sound of Éibhear’s voice, her eyes closing in frustration, her hand gripping the banister. Her escape . . . so close! “Aye?” And she tried hard to keep the dread out of her voice.
“Look, I’m thinking—”
Oh, no. Please don’t think.
“—since we’re not going back tonight—”
Gods, please. I don’t want to spend all night talking about this one gods-damn fuck.
“—maybe we should really be sure—”
I always get trapped with the emotional ones. And this time it’s all my fault!
“—we’ve really gotten it out of our system.”
See? I knew he would do . . . wait. What?
Izzy faced him. “What?”
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Éibhear knew if he started staring at her p**sy, his eyes would stay locked and then his mouth would be right there. So it was best to stare at her face. Although the look of astonishment she had at the moment made it hard not to laugh.
“What do you mean,” she pushed, “see if we’ve gotten it out of our system?”
He shrugged, trying to look as casual as possible. The worst thing he could do with Iseabail was show her how desperate he felt at the moment. And gods, he was desperate. Desperate to be back inside her. The need was crawling up his spine and beginning to eat at his brain.
His poor beleaguered brain that was working hard at the moment to focus on her face.
“Well, once is usually a good idea. Yet sometimes one starts wondering if perhaps there should have been more and then it becomes this obsession again, but by then it’s just too awkward.”
“And you want to—”
“Since we have all night . . .” Éibhear shrugged and slid off the table. He kicked off his boots and leggings—thankfully before he’d tripped over them and made a complete fool of himself—and walked over to Izzy. “It makes sense, don’t you think? A few more times. Just to be sure, of course.”
She eyed him and he didn’t know what to make of that look. So he kept his mouth shut. He was glad of it, too, when she asked, “Will we have to talk?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“And it’s just to get this out of our system, yeah? Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
All right, that last bit might have been a huge lie, but he could see that Izzy could go either way at the moment. She could wrap her legs around his head or make a run for it.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he suggested, keeping his voice as casual as he could manage even while his c*ck pointed at the bloody ceiling.
When she gazed off, her mouth one tight line—she was clearly debating with herself—Éibhear decided to help her out. He slipped one arm around her waist and with his free hand took the clothes from her, tossing them onto his travel bag.
“It’s not like we have anything better to do tonight.”
Her smile was small but there. Even better, when he pulled off her shirt, her n**ples were hard and she’d begun to pant.
Izzy swallowed and asked, “Just to get this out of our system. We won’t have to discuss this tomorrow or anything, will we?”
For Éibhear, there was nothing to discuss.
“No. We won’t have to discuss it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well . . . all right . . . uh . . .” Éibhear leaned down and sucked Izzy’s nipple into his mouth. “Gods,” he heard her sigh out as her fingers slid into his hair again and held on.
Fearghus looked up from his book and watched his mate pace back and forth in front of him. He’d brought them to his cave tonight because he could tell she’d needed some time away from life at Garbhán Isle. Dark Plains was their refuge and, if he was to be honest, the refuge for those at Garbhán Isle when their human queen became . . . tense.
And Annwyl had been getting tenser and tenser every day for quite a few months now. Not that he blamed her. He knew what had her worried and he was equally as worried, but he was also realistic.
There were just some things they could do nothing about.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that rock floor.”
She stopped and faced him. “Why aren’t you worried? Why don’t you care? This seems to be your precious daughter they’re targeting.”
“They’re not targeting—”
“What would you call it? Seducing?”
Fearghus sighed and set his book aside. He lowered his head so that it rested on the inside of his claw while he tapped the talons of the other.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded, hands on her hips.
“I’m waiting for you to have your explosion of rage, so that when you’re done, I can talk to you like a rational dragon. I gave up long ago trying to talk over your screaming, my love.”
She folded her arms under her chest. “They’re trying to steal our daughter from us, Fearghus.”
“You know as well as I that no one can make Talwyn do anything she doesn’t want to do. That includes the Kyvich.”
“They’re trying to lure her away from the safety of her people. Away from her brother and cousin.”