Smoke in Moonlight (Celtic Elementals Book 1) (17 page)

"He had dreams about ye coming here. Dreams that warned him of ye. He didn't tell me until the day ye showed up with Daire. He said ye...ye must be evil. And he'd have to...to destroy ye, like all the other demons, because if he dinna...ye were going to destroy him and us all. He’d seen it." Moiré was whispering now, no longer able to meet Lacey's horrified eyes.

This was why Ronan had almost killed her that very first night, why he had grilled her so mercilessly—and why he didn't trust her—even now.
He thought she was going to be responsible for his death. For hurting his family.

It wasn't true. It was ridiculous!

These people had lived with magic and omens for too damn long, Couldn't they see who she was,
what she was?

She wasn't evil, she wasn't going to hurt Ronan or his family. She was half in love with all of them already.

She'd never betray them.
Any
of them. Couldn't Moiré see that?

Lacey backed away from the kitchen table. "You're wrong…he's
wrong
!" she said, pleading.

Moiré didn't raise her head, she stared at the table top and didn't say a word. Lacey couldn‘t bear it.

She ran out of the kitchen for the second time in a week, her throat tight and burning, desperate to escape the madness. But this time it wasn't just fear dogging her steps as she ran. It was fear…and a miserable, cutting pain.

She ran under the roses and down the path to Ronan's cottage, trying not to look at it as she flew past.

Into the woods. But she didn't care, they couldn’t hold anything worse than the pain that was working its’ way into her heart like a dagger. How could he believe a stupid
dream?
How could Moiré think, even for a moment, that a damn vampire's vision spelled irreversible doom?

But Lacey knew how...this was the world they lived in. That they had lived in for centuries. Her feet pounded down the forest path, the rocks digging into the soles of her thin shoes. Green, stippled light flashed over her arms and legs as she ran.

Where fun-loving sixteen-year-old boys were turned into monstrous werewolves for no other reason than a goddess's jealous pique.

Where demons could wear a loved one's face and rip out your heart.

Where you just better listen to your visions and your dreams or who knows what worse hell you'd get put through.

How could she have ever thought this was cool? It was beyond horrible. She wished she'd never met any of them. She should have never,
ever
come to Ireland. Katie was right. It
was
the worst mistake of her life. Her lungs were burning and so were her eyes. But Lacey refused to let the tears fall.              

She was determined to outrun them.

Ronan had gone to the tombs to think and get some privacy. It wasn't always a safe bet. Tourists often swarmed around the lough like locusts in the summer, but it was early yet and he hadn't seen a soul on his way out. Which was a good thing. In his current state of mind, he was very, very dangerous.

Pacing in the cool darkness of the stone cavern, Ronan ground his teeth. He couldn't kill Lacey. Couldn't. He'd let her too deep into him, despite what he knew, what he'd feared. She'd snuck right under those barriers, the perfect weapon, one he hadn’t been able to resist. Even if she'd hadn't…could he honestly kill an innocent woman just because the gods were using her?

Unfortunately, Ronan thought he knew the answer to that.

Of course, he could. After centuries of survival he knew that no one was entirely innocent. Most of the time he thought of death as a boon. The lucky ones died. The rest just suffered. If he had to end that suffering sooner rather than later for some fool human to protect his family from his curse, so be it. He may not have enjoyed it, it may have filled him with guilt, but he wouldn't have blinked twice.

Wouldn't have. Those were the operative words here.
Now
he wasn't sure. Lacey had changed something inside him. Driven the darkness back a little. He cursed and picked up a huge rock the size of a pig and threw it into the wall, relishing the crash it made and the sharp stinging cuts the flying shards made when they hit his skin.

Ronan needed his darkness to be strong, to be cold—to fucking
endure.
That it was also swallowing him whole, he knew very well. Lugh had warned him there was no way to hold it back forever. Light and dark could not coexist peacefully, one must hold sway. And the darkness had been gaining ground for a long time now, he had been so close to giving into Aine…closer than he ever wanted to admit.

Lacey had brought back a little of the light, or so he’d thought. But that just made it more painful to do what he must. Ronan leaned his head into the rough rock wall and closed his eyes. He’d lied to his best friend for the first time in his life. He couldn’t do this, he wouldn’t.

Maybe he should let Aidan…

Ronan raised his head, his teeth bared ferally. No, he wasn’t a damn coward. Lacey deserved better and maybe there was some...he crushed the flicker of hope ruthlessly. He also knew that if he didn’t do it now, Aidan certainly would.

One burden his friend did not suffer from was that of an over-active conscience.

Ronan started for the tomb entrance when he heard running feet. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked when he looked up and met Lacey’s eyes. He wondered if it was fate, or just a sick coincidence. He stared at her, this lovely thing that had entered his life and shocked him at every turn. First, by forcing him to retreat from a course of action—something he never, ever did anymore— then by trying to save his life and by making him feel connected to the mortal world in a real way for the first time in centuries.

Connected to
her
. Connected by love. Ronan straightened as the truth hit him. He opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say—

But Lacey spoke first. "Were you even going to tell me?"

He was confused, until he noticed the tears streaking her face and the way she was shaking. His stomach tightened. Someone had told her. Not Aidan, though. Not with the sun high in the sky. Who...

"Moiré," she said in a monotone, obviously reading the question in his eyes. "I asked her about what Aidan said about the Morrighan."

"Nae, you dinna!" Ronan groaned and sank back against the tomb wall, knowing his mother would have been damn near hysterical.

"Of course, I did. See, unlike you, Ronan, I don't know which parts to hold back and which to offer in bits and pieces. Seems to me you've spent so much time around these damn Irish gods of yours that you're starting to act like them."

Her words stung. But it hurt far more to realize she was right.

Just what was he becoming?

Lacey stood in the misty sunlight just outside the cool shadows of the cavern, watching him. Her in the light and him in the dark. Ronan could almost smile at the irony except for the misery that was threatening to crush him. How could he make this choice? His family....or her? Because he knew that he loved them both.

Lacey stepped forward, into the darkness with him, and cupped her small hand against his face, her jewel-bright eyes glowing. "Don't be a mouse, Ronan," she whispered and then shocked him by lifting her lips to his.

Lacey felt it course through him. Felt the ripple in that huge body. He probably thought she'd never touch him...or trust him again after learning her had thought to kill her. And she was scared that she was wrong. But Lacey also knew she wasn't going to just give in anymore, not to fate or the gods or whatever he thought was inevitable. She was going to fight.

For once in her life, something was just too goddamn important.

Him.

She reached high to wrap her arms around his neck, sliding her tongue into his mouth. The taste of him made her sigh into his mouth, even as he stood irresolute against her. Lacey ignored his deliberate lack of reaction, letting herself enjoy exploring his mouth fully, without him distracting her. She sucked his full bottom lip, bit it gently and ran her tongue along the soft curve.

Ronan still didn't move, but she saw him close his eyes and felt the tension rising in his body. Lacey smiled and increased her onslaught. Sliding her hands from his neck, then slowly down the hard muscles of his chest and lower. First over, then under the fabric of his shirt as she neared his waist and slipped her hands inside. His skin was so warm and taut, the ridges of his muscles fascinating to her exploring fingertips.

He sucked in a breath when she unbuttoned his jeans. Lacey felt his abs contract, though he didn't make a sound. Even as she pressed her open mouth to his stomach, breathing deeply of that smoky, cedary smell of his. Even as she slipped her hand around his erection. He couldn’t hide his reaction to her. But he still refused to move.

Ronan could have been hewn of the rock that surrounded them. Only he wasn't cold, his flesh burned against her palm and when she drew him into her mouth, he shuddered.

She let her lips and tongue tease his swollen tip first, savoring the taste and feel of him. Her hands gripped his lean hips as she drew him as deep as she could into her throat—and heard the groan of pleasure he couldn’t repress.

It was so enticing to do this to him, Lacey realized, to evoke this kind of response from such a man. From her Ronan. She sucked him relentlessly, the soft wet sounds of her mouth sliding up and down his cock loud in the small cave. Until, with one trembling hand, he sank his fingers into her hair and forced her head back, sinking to his knees beside her.

"Lacey," his whisper was ragged. "Stop. Please donna tempt me so!"

"Why?" Her voice was fierce. "You don't want me anymore, is that it?"

His eyes darkened until they were more black than gray, his grip on her hair tightened almost painfully. "I want ye more than I want anything in this world, but, Lacey..."             

"I
won't
betray you, Ronan. I never would hurt you or your family. I don't care what the gods want, or what visions anyone has!
Nothing
is going to change that. Can't you believe me?"

Ronan wanted to believe her. Damme, he almost did. But he also knew the gods played hardball and he felt in his soul that she
would
destroy him. Hell, she already was. She was tearing his heart and his loyalties in two. Ronan stared at her, unable to speak.

She knelt beside him, her beauty luminescent, her fiery gold hair tousled, her lips ripe and swollen, her aquamarine eyes impossibly bright. They were wet as she read his indecision, and he knew that hurt her.

But she reached for him anyway.

"Make love to me, Ronan." She pressed a finger to his lips when he started to protest. "One last time....before whatever happens....happens."

And, gods curse him again, he could not resist her.

He stripped her clothes away and then his, piling them on the hard ground before laying her down on it. It was lumpy and the cold of the rock still seeped in, but it could have been a bed of goose down and roses for all the attention Lacey paid. Nothing other than him seemed to be of the slightest notice to her. Their world had shrunk to this cave, each other, and nothing else.

Ronan placed his hand on her bare stomach, his palm warm and heavy, his fingers easily spanning from hipbone to hipbone. He let it rest there a moment, just watching her watch him and feeling her breathe. 

Then he skimmed upward, brushing over her nipples one by one, until they hardened under his touch, then back down her belly and lower, over the damp curls between her thighs.

His hand slid down farther and lifted her ankle as he moved between her legs. Ronan pressed a kiss to the back of each knee, watching her again. She held her breath as his mouth trailed up the delicate skin of her inner thigh ever so slowly, then let it out in a whoosh when he turned his attention to her other leg.

He smiled at her expression and as always that smile made her heart catch. Pain and yearning warred in her so fiercely Lacey had to close her eyes. They snapped back open when she felt Ronan's fingers easing her wet folds apart, the warm pulse of his breath against her skin. Her hips arched at the intimate contact. She bit back a half-scream when she felt the first warm sweep of his tongue. Her whole body bowed off the ground and she quivered, helpless as liquid fire swept through her.

His big hands held her writhing hips against his exploring mouth, one thumb on each of her hipbones, his fingers spread over her buttocks. She begged and pleaded as he tormented her, not even knowing what she said and far past caring.

Ronan would not be rushed, he took his time. His tongue was by turns soft and languid, then hard and demanding, circling and lapping at her swollen nub until she did scream, her fingers buried in his hair as the onslaught of pleasure made her half-mad.

The echo of her cries hadn't even died away when Ronan picked up her up and slid her down onto his waiting erection.

Hard.              

Lacey's head fell back at the instant reaction of her body—the fresh wave of sensation that took over as he filled her.

Ronan supported Lacey with one large hand, his other hand cupping her breast, the touch of those rough fingers teasing one hard nipple, as he moved within her. Fast now and hard, yanking her down to meet his every thrust. Another orgasm struck her like lightning and Lacey's own fingers clawed at Ronan's shoulders as he continued his rhythm unabated, his eyes dark and intent on her flushed face as he pushed through her clenched muscles.

"Please," she gasped in his ear, feeling like she was losing her mind at the pleasure rolling through her. "I can't take it."

He didn't stop, his voice low and growling. "Ye can."

His mouth came over hers and she met it, fierce in her desperation, kissing him hard. Her pace swiftly became as frantic as his, both of them wet with sweat, her hands slipping over his slick shoulders, the cool air of the cave unable to dissipate their heat.             

She met each one of his thrusts now, pushing herself down, again and again, in pounding lockstep with each other. Lacey savoring every glorious inch of him, the rippling play of his muscles under her hands and the look in his eyes as he drove her higher than she’d ever been before.

Her heart raced and burned in her chest, begging for air, but she wouldn't lift her lips from his. Ronan's hand slid between their damp bodies, his knuckles rubbing against her blistering center and she moaned into his mouth. Grinding herself against the twin pressures of his hand and his cock, her body demanding release yet again and Lacey felt her inner muscles seize him in anticipation.

Ronan went all the way up on his knees in response, pulling her with him as his powerful thigh muscles went rigid.

His hands tightened reflexively and Lacey ground down the tremendous length of him one more time, feeling his heat flowing into her before the oblivion of orgasm wiped out all.

She quaked against him, so long and so hard Lacey thought she would die of it—and almost wished she had when she opened her eyes and saw the bitter sadness in his. She reached up and trailed her fingers over his face, trying to sooth away the pain there. He slipped out of her and laid down, pulling her on top of him.

"It will work out. I really believe that, Ronan." And somehow she did.

Ronan turned his head and kissed her palm, but there was no hope in those gray eyes.
“Tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat
tá
sé
nimhneach
.”

He
meant to repeat the words in English for her, but a shuffling sound and darkening of the light made him glance up.

"Well, well, this
is
sweet." The raw demonic voice made the hair stand up on the back of Lacey's neck. Ronan, his lips still pressed to her palm, leapt to his feet instantly. He stood in front of her, naked and furious, facing a group that made Lacey's blood freeze.