Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

J enna froze, understanding the history Cillian entrusted her to keep. His words were flat, his eyes indifferent, but somehow, she heard the echoes of deep pain. "I am sorry, Cillian."

"Why? It was not your doing."

"I am still sorry you endured that pain."

He grunted, got up from the log and turned the spit. The fire crackled and the wonderful fragrance of the roasted birds filled the air. Cillian did not return to the log but moved some distance down and peered up into the sky. Jenna got up, walked up to him and hugged him from behind.

He stiffened, and she murmured, "Let me hold you."

She closed her eyes, savoring the sensations winding through her. Jenna slid one of her hands up from his waist until it rested over his heart; then, reassured by the steady beat, some of the tension unknotted from her. His childhood had been painful, and it had not broken him, and somehow, she knew his fierce pride and determination had saved him.

"The sun is lowering, and rain will fall soon," he said gruffly. "How did you get here?"

"I rode one of my aunt's horses."

"I will send you to your aunt in my carriage."

"Ah, is that wheel now fixed too?" she teased, holding him even tighter. How Jenna wished to see his face, but she did not wish to relinquish her hold. Instead, she pressed her cheek against his back.

"It is."

"I believe I shall be a guest at your home tonight again. I would like to see Lily."

His soft laugh rolled over her skin. "I am not sleeping on the sofa in the library again, Jenna."

Her belly tightened, and a languorous ache rolled through her. "I want to sleep in your arms."

Cillian stiffened. He started to turn, and she relaxed her hug around his waist so he could face her. His expression was tight, the flesh drawn over his cheekbones, his eyes narrowed, his lips heavy with sensuality.

"Are you not worried I will ravish you?"

Jenna quirked her lips in a deliberately provocative smile, danced from his reach and tripped him. He cursed and slipped but did not fully go down because he reasserted his balance rather skillfully. Laughing, she dropped her weight against him so that he toppled to the verdant grass. Only she miscalculated and stumbled. Cillian fell with her, holding her tight against his chest and twisting his body so that he took the brunt of the fall with her on top of him.

"In my mind that was executed most splendidly as how our self-defense tutor showed us at 48 Berkeley Square," she said softly, "but I wanted to show you that I have the means to save myself from ravishment."

It was then she realized how still he was, and fright jolted her heart. "Cillian, are you hurt?"

"No."

His voice sounded strained, and it was then she realized that one of his legs rode high between hers so that her thighs clasped the muscular column. Instinctively, she had clung to him as they were falling, and now her fingers were digging hard into his back, and her sex salaciously pressed to his thigh.

Jenna swallowed, words sticking in her throat.

The wicked wretch gripped her hips and dragged her sex over his muscled leg, slamming arousal so immediate and blistering inside her body that she whimpered. He slid his hands from her hips around to grip her buttocks and dragged her up against his body. A dark, hot lust slid through her veins, slow and heavy, and she trembled under its intensity.

Cillian twisted with her so that she was now on her back and braced himself on an elbow, removing most of his weight so that she breathed easier, but he was still far too close, his face mere inches from hers.

"Jenna …" his tone cracked when he said her name, the echoes of it so soft and desperate.

A heavy coil tightened in her loins, the tension pulling tighter and tighter. "Yes," she whispered.

He slammed his mouth against hers with an intensity that was almost frightening. His lips roamed over hers in a hot, hungry surge of possession, sending waves of sensations through her. His kiss felt desperate and needy. He drew her closer to him, and she moved her hands up, hugging her arms around his nape. She felt like she wanted to crawl into his skin and burrow deep into his heart. Deep inside, Jenna feared she still wanted forever with this man, but she pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on now … on the wild, chaotic hunger he provoked.

Their tongues tangled wildly, and she met him stroke for stroke, nip for nip. His kiss consumed her, need for him overwhelmed, and desire roared inside, beating in her veins like a fever. Her hands clasped and kneaded the muscled strength of his shoulders, then traveled to the dark luxuriance of his hair.

A soft misting rain began to fall but she did not care. Cillian lurched upward, reached for the flaps of her trousers and untied it.

"Arch your hips."

His voice was rough with need, and she lifted to his sensual command. He jerked the trousers down, removing them along with her boots. Jenna was soon splayed on the grass only in her shirt and the stockings she wore. His fingers were stumbling when he unbuttoned her shirt before he gently parted the material.

"By God, you are so lovely."

Jenna did not know what to say simply because she was feeling too much. He tugged off his clothes and boots until he was, shockingly, splendidly naked. His body was a beautiful work of art, filled with corded muscles everywhere. She realized the demands of his life and physical labor shaped his body so powerfully.

Jenna's gaze went to his manhood, and anxiety surged through her. Cillian looked nothing like the sculptors in the museum or like the images in the naughty book they had at Berkeley Square. His cock was much longer and thicker. Cillian dropped to his knees before her, lowered his mouth and sucked the spot right above her quivering navel.

Her breasts were swollen, rising and falling rapidly, and her nipples were hard. Kissing up her body, he seized her nipple between his teeth before laving the sensitive flesh with a tormenting tongue tip. Then the wet heat of his mouth enveloped the tight bud fully, and she cried out in wanton pleasure.

His hands brushed against her stomach as he went for her sex. His fingers glided over her folds, teasing and drawing forth her wanton response. Cillian worshipped her breasts with soft, wicked kisses while slipping a finger inside her body. He shifted his weight on top of her, opening her legs wider with his own thighs.

Oh! Somehow, that move pushed his finger deeper, and pleasure washed over her body. He then thrust two fingers deep inside of her, and a moan broke low in her throat.

"You are so wet for me, Jenna," he murmured around the nipple that he teased between his teeth.

Hot, drowning pleasure gripped her as he started a slow glide and retreat of his fingers.

Why did it feel so good?

Her cry was choked off as his fingers pressed deeper and harder. Cillian dragged his tongue down, collecting the droplets of rain on her body. He splayed her legs over his shoulders and kissed her sex. Jenna cried out, and the rumble of thunder through the forest swept away the sound. His tongue dipped, licked, and caressed, sensually teasing and passionately ravishing.

He teased and tormented her pussy with his mouth and tongue until her clitoris was a swollen knot of burning need. He unraveled her, and she climaxed, her body trembling under the force of her release. Cillian rose above her and settled between her widened legs. He took her lips with a tender ferocity, and she tasted the carnality of herself and the rain on his tongue.

They kissed endlessly, and Jenna coasted her hands over his body, reveling in the feel of his skin and muscles under the tips of her fingers. She stroked her hand down his abdomen and body and closed it around his erection.

Oh, God, her fingers barely closed over his girth.

"Cillian," she said shakily against his mouth. "I … I have never had a lover."

Jenna told him that because she wanted to ease the lustful greed burning in his eyes, but her words seemed to do the opposite. He stilled, possessiveness darkening his eyes. She recalled many of her friends telling her the first time hurt, and her anxiety deepened.

"It will hurt."

"Cillian," she cried. "You are supposed to reassure me."

"I will never lie to you."

He kissed her mouth so tenderly it felt as if her heart would crack.

"I will also make it so good you will forget the fleeting hurt."

His golden-brown eyes held hers as he reached between their bodies and guided his cock to her sex.

"Do you trust me to make this good for you?"

"Yes."

A blunt pressure pressed at her entrance, and he started to enter her. Cillian's cock sank deep, and a startled moan of discomfort was wrenched from her. He took her mouth in a deep kiss as he began to work his cock inside her. Short, rolling thrusts of his hips stretched her, filling her sex with pain and pleasure. Jenna whimpered, her fingers sinking deep into his hips, and she could not decide if she wanted to push him away or hold him closer. He then thrust deeply, parting her sex, which clung too tightly, resisting his possession. Shock buffeted Jenna's senses, and he swallowed her cries.

Cillian held himself still, kissing her, distracting her from the pain of his possession. He broke their kiss, his ragged breath puffing against her mouth.

"Look at me, Jenna," Cillian said, his voice strained as he raised his head, bracing his weight on his elbows as he stared down at her intently. "I only started breathing again since you reentered my life."

His eyes glittered with desire and emotion—not just emotion … but love. The sheer wonder of it made her chest feel tight—and somehow, Jenna was afraid to reach for it. Cillian did not give her a chance to respond, which she was grateful for because Jenna had no notion of what to say.

His mouth crashed against hers, his tongue dueling with hers in a deep, sensual glide, perfect mimicry of his hips as he withdrew and surged inside her sex. She pulled her lips from his and buried her face in his throat, shaking, trying to process the sensations racing through her.

Pain blended with pleasure, and she bit his flesh right above his pulse. He stopped moving, peppering kisses along her shoulder, murmuring crooning words. Cillian reached between the tight fit of their bodies with one hand, and she moaned when he found the nub of pleasure and glided his fingers over it in a sensual caress.

Jenna could feel his heart beating against her breast. He brushed a soft kiss across her brow, the most fleeting of caresses, and her heart clenched. Over and over, he rubbed her clitoris until that heated sensation started to twist through her once more. Her body grew more pliant and so wet she blushed.

Cillian groaned, slowly pulled from her and sank back into her heat with shocking strength, encouraging her tender flesh to yield to his possession. The throbbing pain had eased, and a sharp, unbridled pleasure remained. He moved with long, powerful strokes, and she gasped in sudden delight at the sensation that raced through her.

Over and over, he moved within her, and despite the soft drizzle of rain, Jenna felt as if Cillian had burned her alive. The hot pleasure intensified, and a soft moan caught in her throat. Ripples of ecstasy mounted, and broken moans were wrenched from her as exquisite delight coiled and built inside and then snapped. Jenna cried out, convulsing, and again, he caught the sound with his mouth. He held her firmly and began moving even faster. Moments later, a deep groan of pleasure sounded in his throat.

She could feel the jerking rhythm of Cillian's heartbeats against her body. They stayed like that for several moments until their breathing eased, and her shivering stopped. She watched, fascinated, as his tension slowly eased. He withdrew from her, and she stifled the moan at the sharp ache between her thighs. Jenna trembled as he gathered her into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Everything inside her clenched and flamed in yearning.

"I will call on your brother and—"

"No," she sharply cried, pulling away from him. "What nonsense are you saying?"

"Jenna, this changes everything."

"It changes nothing , Cillian!"

"You were a virgin."

"And?" She whispered the word because her throat was so tight she could barely speak.

"When you were foxed once, you implied you might have had a lover, and I …" He raked his fingers through his hair, his voice quiet but rough with fury. "I thought you had experience and wanted you so badly that it happened here. Even when you told me you were untouched, I did not have the strength to pull away from you. I should have been more gentle and more mindful of your sensibilities."

Tears tightened her chest and clogged her throat. She had to get away from him, had to have a minute to figure out exactly what had happened and where she had lost every measure of good sense she possessed. It had not been her intention to stay the evening at his home, much less make love with him. She scrambled to her feet, tugging her trousers on with such haste she fumbled, her hands shaking.

Cillian stood. "Jenna," he started, reaching for her.

"Do not touch me!"

She slapped his hand away and ran from him toward where she had left her horse. It did not take long for her to find the stallion, but she quickly mounted. The stirrups were cold on her stocking-clad feet. Jenna hurriedly buttoned her shirt, and it took far too long, for her fingers badly shook. She grabbed the reins and wanted to urge the horse away, but she could not.

Jenna could not leave him. Emotions quaked inside her chest, and she grappled with the sense of panic, slowly breathing until the feeling subsided. The numbness that had once shielded her heart was vanishing, replaced by a torrent of yearnings she had long suppressed. A sob hitched inside her throat, and she turned the horse around and trotted back.

Cillian stood in the same spot she had left him, but he had put on his trousers. His chest and feet remained bare, his expression unfathomable, yet his golden eyes glittered with an intensity that made her belly tremble. He only moved when he realized she had returned, his chest lifting on a ragged breath. Their gazes collided, and she was tossing herself from the horse before she thought about it. He rushed forward and caught her against his chest, burying his face in her hair.

"We will not talk about the future," he said gruffly.

"Thank you." She hugged him fiercely, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms around her. The sense of safety in his embrace made her heart ache.

"I am hungry," Jenna murmured, her voice breaking the silence.

His chest shook with his silent laugh, and he held her hand, tugging her over to the birds. The drizzle of rain extinguished the fire, and soft smoke swirled around their food. The aroma of roasted game still lingered in the air. He eased away from her, tore off a leg which came off easily.

"It is cooked but wet," he said, offering her the leg.

"I do not mind it," she said, taking the offered food.

He grabbed the spit, and they sat on the moss-covered log and took turns eating the three birds that were perfectly roasted but wet from the rain. Each bite was a blend of flavors, the earthiness of the wild game mixed with the smokiness from the fire. Sitting there, sharing this simple meal with Cillian, she felt a sense of peace and contentment she had long thought lost.

As they ate in silence, the rain created a symphony around them, the droplets falling through the leaves and onto the forest floor. Jenna thought she had never had a more delicious meal with finer company.