Read A Time for Everything Online
Authors: Ann Gimpel
A Time for Everything (6 page)
Her eternal internal dialogue raged out of control. Finally, she raised her gaze to his. “Are you certain I won’t be able to go back if we make love?”
“As certain as I am of any magic, lass. Which is to say, not certain at all. Ye must assume, though, that your chances of return will be greatly diminished at best.”
The sun, which had hidden itself behind some clouds, flared outward then, casting Angus in a blaze of gold. Dark hair drifted about him in the slight breeze, looking silky soft. His green-eyed gaze never left hers. Light reflected off the planes of his face and the muscles in his arms and chest.
Moira’s voice sounded deep in her mind.
“Take him within thy body, lass. Make him yourn. He’ll be happy, an’ ye’ll be blessed the rest of yer days. For I’ll see’t done. ’Tis a sacred promise. I would be losin’ my life everlastin’ if I were tae break my word.”
“You brought me here.”
“Aye, lass, that I did.”
“You should listen to her,” Angus’ deep voice held a serious note. “For she is of the Sidhe, the Old Ones who dwell in the hills and barrows of the Highlands. When I fell in love with her, I kent she was part fairy, yet I didna care. On t’other side of her human death, she has returned to her kin.”
“Did you hear what she said to me?”
He nodded, “Aye, that I did.” His words mirrored Moira’s.
Something shifted in Sam. Her mind felt sharp and clear for the first time since the thunderstorm in the Highlands. “Both of you,” Sam breathed in understanding that rocked her to her core, “are letting me figure this out for myself.”
She heard two
ayes
, one in her mind and one from where Angus stood.
“I wouldna let her bind you with witchcraft any further,” he said. “I told her that this night just past when she came to me again. Ye must want me of your own will. ’Twill be hard enough for you here. The choice must be freely given.”
Why is this so difficult? I know what I want. For once in my life, my path feels clear. Finally, I’m not trying to make a relationship something it’s not.
But my home. My friends. Mom and Dad…
Ssssh.
Feeling a bit foolish, but determined nonetheless, Sam walked to Angus and stood facing him. “I’ve made my choice,” she said, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. “I choose you. If it means I can never go back, I can live with that.”
She closed her eyes, expecting to feel him draw her close, but nothing happened. Wondering if she’d made another mistake—misjudged him somehow—she opened her eyes and looked at him.
He stared down at her. “And are ye certain, lass? Ye look a bit like a sheep being led to the chopping block.”
A nervous laugh bubbled past her lips. “Yes, I’m sure. If I look scared, it’s because anyone would—”
“’Tis a big step.” He interrupted her.
She cocked her head to one side. “Yes, yes, I know all that. Now who’s getting cold feet?”
He smiled and the breath left her lungs. There was love in his smile and hope for their future. “Just makin’ sure, lass. Because once I have you in my arms again I am never lettin’ go.”
She felt her face spreading into a smile to match his. “Let me make it easy for you.” She opened her arms and drew him against her body, turning her lips up for a kiss. His mouth settled gently over hers as if he were afraid she might break. Sam laid a hand on either side of his face and bit down on his lower lip. The heat that had filled her earlier was back in a rush that took her by surprise. When he slid his tongue into her mouth, tasting of honey and new-mown hay, she opened herself to him, wishing it was his cock. She’d tasted him often enough in her dreams. Excitement thrummed through her.
His hands roamed up and down her back before pulling her tight against him. The cock in question was sandwiched between their bodies. It throbbed with promise against her stomach. She wanted to touch it. Well, what she really wanted to do was toss him down on the grass, pull his kilt out of the way, and climb aboard. She’d have plenty of time to look and touch later. Right now, she wanted him inside her with a desperation that shocked her. No stranger to sex, Sam thought she’d pretty much done it all. In that moment, she understood she’d barely plumbed the surface of what true intimacy meant.
The realization made her unaccountably shy. Then she disentangled herself and unzipped her jacket.
“Ye’re such a beauty, lass. Let me.” He pulled it off her. “Ye willna be cold?”
Sam felt as if her body were on fire. “No.” Her tongue felt thick. “Hurry.”
“But, lass, we’ve all the time in the world.” His breath coming fast belied his words. He tugged her sweater off over her head and looked at her bra, fingers tracing the lace cups. “’Tis lovely, but how?”
She unhooked it, delighted by his gasp of pleasure when he filled his hands with her breasts and bent to take a nipple into his mouth. Incredible sensations shot through her. Her knees felt so weak she wondered if they’d simply give out. She looked for a place to lie down on the rocky ground.
Seeming to read her mind, he stopped suckling her long enough to take her hand. “This way, lass. We shall consecrate our love on hallowed ground.” He detoured past his horse long enough to pull the blanket from its back and led her to an alcove within the stone ruins. An oil lamp on a small shelf burst into flame when he looked at it.
A part of her wanted to ask how he’d done that but Sam had more pressing matters, like the orgasm that wanted to happen. It was so close, all it would take was just a little rubbing. He bent to kiss her again. This time his lips were hard and demanding, filled with passion to match her own. He grappled with the fastenings on her pants. She guided his hands, kicked off her boots, and stepped out of pants and panties. She’d never been so wet, felt almost embarrassed when he dipped fingers between her legs. He circled the throbbing center of her before moving inside. A low moan escaped him.
She wanted to grab his hand and move it against her until she came. Before she could do that, he lifted his fingers to his lips and sucked. “Sweet, so sweet,” he murmured. His eyes glittered when he looked at her. “Aye, and skirts are a wee bit easier, lass. All one must do is lift them out of the way.”
She took the hint. Her hands found their way beneath his kilt, closing on a wonderfully erect penis. He was huge—and obviously ready. She ran her fingers around the velvety head, wanting to ease it inside her. One of his hands closed over hers. “Go easy, I dinna want to spend too soon. ’Tis been long since I’ve been with a lass.”
He did something to his plaid. In a single, untwisting motion, it lay on the ground atop the horse blanket. His body was magnificent. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. It was like looking at one of the gods. Silky hair fell nearly to his waist in a shimmering dark cloud. Well-muscled arms and legs graced a torso worthy of Adonis. Her hands reached for him again, but he batted them away. Instead, he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and laid her upon their impromptu bed.
He settled next to her, propped on an elbow as he rained kisses down her face and neck. The heat from his mouth made her groan. She turned toward him, trying to capture one of his legs between hers, feeling as if she’d die if she didn’t come—now. Right now. When she squirmed against him, he laughed.
“Aye and ’tis a randy one ye are. I like my women passionate, lass. Ye’re perfect, but if ye think ye can spend without my fingers, tongue, or cock, ye must needs think again.”
So hot she could scarcely talk, Sam lay on her back and spread her legs. Wordlessly, she reached for him, back arched in preparation. The tip of his cock pressed for entrance. “Yes,” she almost screamed. “For God’s sake, fuck me.” His shaft sank into her. Her nails raked down his back as she tried to get even closer.
Once he was full length within her, he stopped moving, supported himself on his arms and looked at her. She met that incredible green gaze with her golden one, wrapped her legs around him, and gripped his hips. Moving her body against him, pressing the sensitive nub between her legs right up against the base of his cock, it didn’t take much before release ripped through her. Sam’s entire body spasmed when she came. She felt it in her fingers and toes and tongue. Little whimpering animal sounds tore out of her. She’d never come like this before. It was hard to breathe. Her pussy got even wetter as it contracted around him. Fluid gushed down her legs.
“Beautiful. Ye’re such a thing of beauty,” he crooned, dipping to kiss her closed eyelids, her lips, and her throat. “Ye should see yourself, all rosy and panting. Now be still and trust me. Can ye do that? I’ll lead you higher still.”
Because she couldn’t talk, she just nodded, trying to suck air into her lungs. Angus said something in another language then. He closed his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply, his tongue probing her. Though she didn’t think it possible, Sam felt arousal growing again. She’d never cared if she came more than once before. Suddenly, between his tongue in her mouth and a tiny circular movement he was doing with his cock, she felt heat glowing between her legs. Her nipples felt like live coals pressed against his chest.
He drew himself out ever so slowly, letting the tip of him play about her opening. Then he moved back inside her equally slowly. She locked her legs around his hips, rocking against the slow, inexorable rhythm. Her back arched like a bow. He moaned against her mouth. She felt as if every nerve ending was on fire. She knew she’d come again if only he’d move faster.
It was as if he could read her thoughts. His rhythm shifted. The pause at the top of his stroke grew shorter and then shorter still. She felt him swell inside her, touching places no man had even come close to before. She met him stroke for stroke, wide open to him, wanting him to plumb her very soul. His hands reached under her, gripping the globes of her ass. He understood just the right angle because when he pulled her against him, it took her over the top. Somewhere in the midst of her orgasm, she felt him release inside her. She heard herself screaming, “don’t stop,” as her hips strained against him. “Never, never stop.”
“Dinna fash yourself, lass,” he panted, smiling down at her. “I never will.”
She must have passed out in his arms. When she opened her eyes, shadows lay around them.
“Are ye awake, my love?”
She nodded, happier than she could remember being in her life.
“And can ye stand a few more moments without clothing?”
“Sure. I’m not cold.”
“Aye, then.” He helped her to a sitting position and then to her feet. “Come stand next to me, Siobhan. And repeat after me.”
“Why? What are we doing?”
“Ye wish to be wed, do ye not? After what we shared, we must wed or ’twill be an affront to the goddess.”
Sam looked about her stupidly, expecting a priest to step out from behind a rock pile. “But—”
“I told you. I am a Druid. An Arch Druid, in truth. I married us while we were joined together. There is but one more part of the ceremony.”
Sam waited.
“I must tell you first, Siobhan, so ye do this thing with wide-open eyes. This is a Druid wedding. ’Twill bind your soul to mine for all eternity. Are ye willin’?”
She felt her lips curve in a smile. “More than willing.”
He sang words that flowed over her and through her in a language she’d never heard before. At times, he asked her to say something in the unfamiliar language. She thought the words would tangle on her tongue but they didn’t. When he was done, she felt something open deep inside her, like a vault holding profound mysteries. Somehow, she knew that place had always been there, but she’d not understood how to find it.
Sam took a deep breath. And then another. She felt different. Though he’d not explained it—at least not in English—she understood at a bone-deep level that she stood on sacred ground, in a special place, bonded with a man who would love her through the rest of her days.
“Do ye feel it then?”
“I’m not certain what I feel, except that we’re meant to be together.”
He smiled. The warmth from that smile could have illuminated worlds. “Aye, that we are.” He bent and picked up his plaid and her pants.
The sun was nearly down. She understood how chilly it was once she drew her clothes around her. Suddenly she felt nervous. “The servants—” she began.
“Och aye, they’ll get used to the idea.” He turned that ten-thousand-watt grin on her again. “After all, they love me. And they are intensely loyal. Now that ye’re the lady of Castle MacTavish, they’ll love you as well. Especially after the bairns start coming.”
Sam laid a hand over her flat midsection. She realized with a shock that it was the first time she’d had sex without a condom—well, ever. She giggled, joy brimming over. Everything would be just fine. She and Angus would see to it.
But what about my other life?
Ssssh. My life is here now. Get used to it.
They walked back to the castle in twilight, leading the horses down the rocky path. It had started to drizzle, but she didn’t care a bit. Scotland was beautiful. The Highlands were magical, and she was a part of that magic.
The End
About the Author
Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist with a Jungian bent. Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Her short fiction has appeared in a number of magazines, webzines, and anthologies. She’s also written several novels. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.
www.anngimpel.com
http://anngimpel.blogpsot.com
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