Page 50 of Dawn Of Desire

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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.


Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical