Chapter 13 | Cillian

Chapter 13

Cillian

“ C illian? Will you help me, please?”

Cillian looked up from the letter he was holding and set it back on the table. Cora sat across the room with a brush in one hand and a leather strap in the other. Sunlight glinted off her hair, reminding him of fresh earth in spring. He’d always loved the smell of grass and earth in springtime. As a boy, he’d loved to lie in the new grass and bury his nose in it, soaking in the smell of sunshine and new life. The sudden image of Cora with a rounded belly and dark hair free down her back took his breath away.

Cora arched an eyebrow, and he realized he’d left her waiting for an answer. Cillian cleared his throat and nodded, taking the brush in hand. “I’ll just brush it out, shall I?”

Cora nodded, straightening her back as he pulled the brush through a small section of her hair. “After it’s brushed, I’ll need your help with the braid.”

“Not that I mind helping, wife, but don’t you braid your hair every day?”

She smiled and gestured to a small bouquet on the bed. “One of the boys brought me those flowers to thank me for fixing him up. I thought they might look nice in my hair.”

Cillian nodded in agreement. Her hair was silk in his hands. On their wedding night, he’d taken every opportunity to run his fingers through her beautiful hair and marvel at its softness. He’d thought about it often since then. He imagined it flowing down her back as she walked, in a braid wrapped around his fist as he fucked her, draped over his chest as she slept on his chest—he’d imagined it all.

But he’d been careful not to push her. On their wedding night, he’d said that he wouldn’t force her, and he’d meant it. When she’d flinched away from him the very next morning, he’d taken it to mean she wasn’t ready. So, he’d given her space, hadn’t he? He’d given her time. Hadn’t pressed or forced her hand. It’d been like walking through fire some days to resist the growing urges in his heart, but he’d kept his distance. Any time he was tempted to try again, he remembered that flinch. The way she’d pulled away from him.

Things had been different between them since the day in the sparring ring. It happened slowly at first, so slowly that he might have missed it had he not been watching. The first time Cora smiled at him in that soft, gentle way, he thought he’d imagined it. Then, after he’d helped her onto her horse one afternoon, she’d done it again.

Day by day, the smiles turned into more. Before, they’d spoken little. Conversations had revolved around camp and his men's needs. She would talk about the herbs she needed or how one of the men was coming along after an injury or illness. It was never anything personal, and it always faded into quiet in the end. Now, she asked him questions about himself as they readied for the day and answered when he questioned her in return.

Before, they were careful not to touch while lying in the dark. Now, they lay side by side, the distance all but gone. They’d even stayed awake a few times, whispering in the darkness about the day or whatever new correspondence her father had sent.

The warmth between them built slowly. Every day, he pressed a little harder, went a little farther, and she’d not yet rejected him.

He ran the brush through her hair until it shone. Halfway through, she’d started moaning whenever he swept the brush over her scalp, and he’d been hard as a rock ever since. By the time he finished, his self-control hung by a thread.

Cora braided the flowers into her hair with practiced ease. Cillian watched, fascinated, as she tucked the stems into the silky strands. She looked like a forest nymph from an old story, and he could picture her laid out under a tree, tempting men with fresh fruit and music.

“How does it look?” she asked, turning her head to show him both sides. Unable to resist, Cillian leaned in and kissed her cheek. “It looks lovely,” he said, smiling at the way she blushed.

Her sweetness tempted the wolf. His mate called to him with her smiles and her warmth. The flowers mixed with her scent, creating images in his mind of taking her in a field of flowers. She’d be so lovely like that—dappled with sunshine or glowing in the pale light of the moon. No matter how he had her, she would be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Cora rose, her cheeks still pink, and clasped her hands together. “Thank you for your help,” she whispered.

He heard her just fine, but her whisper gave him an excuse to step closer. He crowded her, letting his hands fall to her hips. As he leaned in, her eyes widened, and her heart began to race. Whether in surprise or fear, he didn’t know, but it was enough to stop his advance. Cillian pulled away, forcing down the urge to kiss her until she made those lovely noises again.

“I—I should get going,” she said. “Seamus says he knows where to find elder trees nearby. Their bark is poisonous, of course, but the berries are wonderful for you. Not that I think you’d eat tree bark. I don’t really know who tried that first to find out it was poisonous—probably a man. But the berries are good for—”

Cillian’s will crumbled as he leaned in to quiet Cora with a kiss. She whimpered as if in pain but fisted his shirt in her hands. He wrapped her in his arms, careful not to jar the lovely flowers in her hair. Pulling her hips to his, he ground his cock against her. Cora opened her mouth in a needy moan, and he slipped his tongue in to tease hers.

This wasn’t a battle the way it had been their first time. Rather than having to coax her into the kiss, he’d simply taken it. He’d half expected her to haul back and hit him for it—after their match, he fully believed in his wife’s capacity for violence.

But she didn’t.

She attacked his lips, pulling him so close that there was hardly air between them. Cillian wedged a leg between her thighs and pushed it up and against her core. Cora’s whine was almost feral, and his wolf howled in anticipation. Using his hands on her hips, Cillian guided her to rock against his leg. She followed his lead, clutching at his shirt as she writhed against him. He imagined her beneath him, squirming as he impaled her on his cock. She’d look like this—just like this—except he’d have all of her. There’d be no fear or hesitation because she would want him, too. And she did want him; she had to. She wouldn’t do this—wouldn’t allow him to do this—if she didn’t.

Cillian’s cock throbbed, and he ached to bury it inside her. It’d take no time at all to shove his trousers down, toss her on the bed, and ruck up her skirt. Properly motivated, he felt he could be inside her in under fifteen seconds.

He found himself quite motivated indeed.

Cora’s moans grew louder, spurred on by his wandering hands. One kneaded her breast, teasing the nipple through her dress, while the other gripped her arse and forced her core against his thigh harder and harder.

Tearing his lips from hers, Cillian bit her ears, jaw, and neck as he brought her closer to her climax. “That’s it, A Mhuirnín . Ride me, beautiful girl. You’re so close, aren’t you? I want to hear you, love, but not too loud. Can’t have the others knowing how lovely your cries are, can we?”

Cora’s head thrashed back and forth as she rocked against him. When she went stiff and cried out, Cillian gave into the howling wolf within and surged forward to take her neck between his teeth. He bit down, digging his teeth into her soft flesh. She whimpered, caught in the throes of pleasure, and held his mouth to her neck. “Cillian—oh yes!”

Her high faded slowly as she sagged against him, deep heaving breaths ruffling his hair as she rested against his head. Cillian licked at her shoulder where he’d bitten her. It hadn’t been hard enough to break skin but was more than enough to leave an angry red mark.

He would swear his cock could punch a hole through his trousers. He wanted to yank them down—wanted to spread her legs and have her warm and wet around him by his next breath. But when he looked into her eyes, still half drunk on her climax, he saw hesitation. He saw worry. It was a bucket of icy water over a fire.

The warmth that had spread through his body cooled. His cock throbbed as if to remind him that it needed seeing to, but he ignored it. He cleared his throat, releasing her and moving a safe distance away.

“Cillian, I—”

“Don’t need to explain,” he said with a rueful smile. “You’ve made it clear you don’t—”

Cora rushed forward, cutting him off with an angry huff. “For the love of God, will you let me finish? Just—give me a moment, will you?”

Cillian waited, fists clenched at his side, his erection still far too insistent to allow for good manners. Cora laced her trembling fingers together and inhaled. He’d noticed long ago that her hands often shook when she was frightened or uncomfortable, but he’d never asked about it. She hid it well and didn’t seem keen to talk about it herself. As she breathed in and out, the shaking slowed until her body was still again.

Finally, she met his eyes and spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, lass? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She shook her head and placed a hand on his chest, her face tilted downward. “There are things that are... difficult to talk about, but I feel I must. I want you to understand because I... well, I hope because you feel the same.”

Cillian hooked a finger beneath her chin, raising her gaze to meet his. “Whatever it is you need to say, say it.”

“I didn’t want to marry you.”

Oh. Well, that stung, didn’t it? He’d known—of course he had. She’d offered herself in exchange for his protection for her people. They were hardly a grand romance in a fairy tale. He supposed he hadn’t been overjoyed with the situation himself at first, but he’d warmed to it—and to her. Obviously, she didn’t feel the same. The wolf whined in the back of his mind.

His expression must have given him away. Cora shook her head and wrung her hands. “I’m saying this all wrong, aren’t I? I only meant that, at the beginning, I was afraid. I didn’t want to marry you—I didn’t want to marry anybody! But it was all I had to give, and I was desperate. I told myself that the stories about you were fancy and rumors, but then they weren’t stories! They were real, and you were real, and I was so afraid, Cillian. And then, before I could blink, we were married, and we... we... I hadn’t thought I’d like it. Not with anyone, but especially not with you. But I did, and that frightened me too! I’m frightened of everything if you haven’t noticed. And then, the very next morning, you pulled away. You only spoke when you had to. You avoided me if you could. Left me on my own for days after. I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that I’d married a man who could become a creature from my darkest nightmares, and I was alone.”

Cillian flinched away from her words. He’d thought he was doing the right thing by leaving her alone, but he’d been so wrong. Instead of giving her the space to come to terms with their marriage as he’d thought, she’d interpreted his distance as a lack of interest. The wolf didn’t understand everything that was happening, but it knew that he and his mate were both in distress. In his opinion, the only thing that would solve their problems was contact. Lots and lots of physical contact. A picture of an enormous wolf curled around a tiny woman with dark chestnut hair flashed into Cillian’s mind. The wolf wasn’t always right when it came to the nuance of human interactions, but this time, he thought he might be.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry, lass. That was never my intention. I only wanted you to feel safe, and you were afraid of me, so I thought it best to give you time. I told you I wouldn’t force you.”

Cora shook her head. “And you haven’t. But I’ve had enough time. I’m still—this is still frightening, Cillian. I won’t deceive you and claim that everything’s all right now, but I want to try. I want us to try.”

Cillian stood very still, afraid that the wrong move or word would shatter the moment. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked. Hope flickered in his chest, but he refused to acknowledge it until she agreed.

Cora nodded slowly. “I don’t know if this can be a happy marriage, Cillian. I don’t know if we can love each other. But I—I would like to try.”

He smiled, leaning in to brush a kiss against her lips. “I don’t know, either. There’s never been a match like ours, and I don’t know yet if a peaceful—a happy—marriage is possible between our kinds. But I would like to try as well.”

A thought struck him, and before he’d thought it through, he’d pulled away and reached out his hand to her. “Do we have an agreement, Madam Fane?”

Cora grinned and nodded. “I believe we do, Wolf King.”