Chapter 33

Thirty-Three

The casting of magik required intense concentration.

It was a long, muddled moment before Rhiannon could remember herself well enough to resume the shower, and then, once she did, still another before she could remember what else she was supposed to do—lave him, she supposed.

In that instant, all pretense of self-assurance fled, and she was left only with a virgin's uncertainty.

Mercifully, Cael didn't wait to see what she would do. His arms slid about her waist, embracing her and pulling her close. His lips claimed hers, hot and insistent, and Rhiannon could only whimper with pleasure as his lips melded with her own, hard and unyielding, coaxing her to open for him.

And then, before she could respond, his tongue swept between her trembling lips, taking and plundering the depths of her mouth, his tongue lapping her teeth, exploring, sparring with her own, only this time with a hunger she hadn't known before.

Sweet fates.

She could taste his ardor, smell his arousal—the faintest trace of pollen, that made her ache deep down.

Freely choose, or choose to be free…

Unbidden, she heard the words like a whisper in her head, and despite that she'd already spoken her vows before a priest, she knew it was a plea from the Goddess for Rhiannon to speak now or forever hold her peace.

"I choose you," she said breathlessly, and heard an answering whisper…

Bound by destiny, to destiny bound,

Another to one, and one to another.

"Rhiannon," he cried softly, perhaps oblivious to the words of the Goddess, and Rhiannon melted against him, her breasts hardening against the tiny hairs of his chest.

Instinctively, she arched backward, supported by the strength of his arms, as he trailed soft, little kisses from her lips to her chin, down her neck, and down through the valley of her breasts. When his mouth closed, hot and insistent, over one nipple, she moaned softly with terrible longing.

This was everything she had ever desired and yet nothing she had ever anticipated. Even as he suckled, Rhiannon felt a delicious tug at her womb, and a dampness creep between her thighs.

And then… sweet Goddess… he lowered himself again, kneeling at her feet, and lifted his face to her mons.

His tongue struck out, boldly sweeping between her woman's flower, pressing high against her bud, the sensation warm and delicious in contrast with the cool water cascading over their bodies. And suddenly, she lost the thread of her magik completely, leaving the water to trickle over them in spurts that mirrored each foray of his tongue.

"Cael," she cried out, her fingers weaving themselves into his thick, black hair, groping desperately as he drank from her, rewarding her with a first taste of animal pleasure; it washed over her in waves, wracking her body with shivers. And then he rose again to offer her his tongue and Rhiannon was shocked to find the taste of her body lingered.

Bold. Shocking. Delicious.

If she'd thought herself intrepid, this only inspired her sense of daring. She accepted the gift, a pleasant tang that she would never have been audacious enough to explore on her own. Her body began to convulse in the most private of places, and she longed desperately to be filled—intuitively, knowing it could only be Cael.

"I'd lay beneath you," she said, shivering in his arms.

He smiled gently. "I'd have you lay beside me instead."

She nodded, understanding, and lowered a hand to his manhood, touching it tentatively.

"Art certain?" he asked.

"I'm your wife," she said.

That wasall Cael needed to hear.

Merely hearing those heartfelt words nearly unmanned him where he stood.

He could barely restrain himself. She was perfect, a blend of innocence and daring that fueled his jaded imagination. He could think of a million ways he longed to have her, but realizing this would be her first coupling, he intended to prepare her as best as he could. If, indeed, his time in this realm was nearing an end, he would die contentedly, knowing he had, at long last, found the light of his heart. As it so happened she was Uther's heir.

Morwen's daughter.

Yet none of that mattered.

Not right now.

Burying the tips of his fingers into her silky mons, he continued to kiss her mouth, mimicking with his tongue the rhythm he longed to follow with his hips.

She tasted sweet, like honeysuckles, sex and rain—the odd combination like manna from Heaven. This night would be theirs, he vowed—even if on the morrow the fires of hell rose to destroy him. Nothing, no one, could keep him from claiming his wife…

Bound by destiny, to destiny bound,

Another to one, one to another.

Strange whispers in his ears, from a voice he didn't know. But he needn't a word of encouragement.

He bent to sweep Rhiannon into his arms, and carried her to the bed, laying her down very gently, unconcerned that they would dampen the bedding. Now, he longed to drown in the love she so willingly gave, and not even the fact that he was parted from his reliquaries occurred to him.

"Rhiannon," he said, as he caressed her face, and then he covered her body with his own, pressing her down into the bedding, giving her only half his weight, his hips already moving of their own accord, seeking and begging entrance to the temple of her body.

"I love you," she said, startling him with the declaration, and his heart sang with a chorus of joy. Still, he was determined to afford Rhiannon the same pleasure she gave him.

"Spread your thighs," he demanded. And then, once again, he shimmied down her body, kissing and lapping at the valley between her breasts, suckling each nipple in turn, before moving down to kiss her belly and mons. And there, again, he sent his tongue to coax the wetness from the font of her womanhood, knowing intuitively that this would make her first time easier to bear. Rhiannon moaned and he reveled in the sound, lapping hungrily and suckling her silken petals. When he was certain she was ready for him, he lifted himself to look into her eyes and said slowly, clearly, lest a word be mistaken. "Live or die, I will do so for you, my love. I love you, and only you, Rhiannon Pendragon."

And then, he positioned himself between her thighs, nesting himself there, as he pushed himself inside her. He entered slowly, then paused for an instant to savor the silky heat of her body. But her eagerness was, again, his undoing. Undulating beneath him, she lifted her hips to welcome him, and he gave her what she sought. Feeling her maidenhead rupture, he bent to swallow her soft cries with his hungry mouth, offering his heart, his body, and soul, and finally, his seed—though not until she cried out one last time, so intensely that he momentarily feared he had harmed her. He felt her body stiffen and knew instinctively she'd found release. That carnal knowledge set free the beast within, and he filled her desperately, sweat dripping from his temples as he worked for his pleasure, until he cried out with sweet release, then collapsed atop her with a heart filled with joy, and his cock still throbbing violently.

Unwilling to withdraw even then, he grasped her by the arse and turned them both so she held his cock inside her, both their bodies pulsing with pleasure.

"Christ have mercy," he said.

And this was, perhaps, the wrong thing to say, because his impish wife grinned sportingly, and said, "Oh, my dear husband… God may, indeed, provide you mercy, but I will not."

And then she smiled a secret smile, and again began to undulate atop him, her hips rocking him ever so maddeningly, slowly, slowly, coaxing, coaxing… coaxing.

Inconceivably, he found himself hard as stone once more, and ready to be ridden. Of their own accord, his hands found her hips, prepared to guide her, but then he felt her tighten about him, and he nearly died with pleasure. Submitting entirely to her will, he let his hands ride the silken curve of her hips, giving Rhiannon complete control over their loving.

Five.

These were the number of years Rhiannon had dreamt of this moment—ever since she'd spied this glorious man in her vision. Goddess ordained, he was her husband, and all the Sylphs in Heaven and all the dragons on deep couldn't keep her from taking her fill of him.

Here and now, this very instant, she confessed, if only to herself, she would have moved Heaven and earth on that day she'd helped Elspeth escape, to keep her sister from this glorious man who was destined to be hers. It was in some ways the most selfish act of her life, and would she have coveted him if he were not Goddess sent?

Yes,she thought. Yessss…

With the greatest satisfaction, she rode him fiercely, like a primal queen atop her cherished steed, eternally grateful for Marcella's advice, because even as she watched, his eyes rolled back into his head and she knew the instant he submitted to her pleasure.

Bound by destiny, to destiny bound,

Another to one, one to another.

Here now and forever.

The skyoutside her window was a cloudless blue.

Rhiannon laid her head atop her husband's arm. His free hand cupped her bottom, and when she stirred, he sleepily drew her close.

"Good morning," she said, when he opened his eyes. This near, they were so deep and dark they appeared fathomless, and she could peer into them evermore.

He slapped her bottom gently. "Good morning, wife."

Rhiannon smirked. "No regrets for having wed a witch?"

"None at all," he said, lazily caressing the sting from her flesh. It was only then that she realized that, sometime during the night, he'd risen to retrieve his reliquaries. He was naked still, but for those twin chains, and the reliquaries they were bound to. Both fell heavily between them and she dared to lift one up to better inspect it.

"One belongs to me," he said. "The other to your mother."

"So, you said. What are they?"

"Grisial huds, so I'm told."

Magik crystals—but to what purpose?

Rhiannon thumbed one of the crystals, brushing it thoughtfully.

She really didn't know,Cael realized, thinking back to his conversation with Marcella.

Of course, he didn't say it then, nor had Marcella asked. Alas, though, he realized he couldn't keep the truth from his wife. Reaching out for the chain in her hand, he explained the reliquary's purpose, waiting to see disgust in her eyes.

"Shadow magik," she whispered.

Cael's soul was bound to the reliquary, his body borrowed—usurped from a man he'd never met, save through the intricacies of his body. He'd assumed a dead man's name instead of his own after Morwen summoned him back to this realm. Unfortunately, he'd always known she could and would return him from whence he came.

"So then… d'Lucy is not your true name?"

"Nay," he said.

"What, then?"

Cael shook his head, unable to speak the rest of his truth.

God's blood, what could he say? He was born before she was ever a thought in her mother's head? That her great, great, great, grandsire was his foe? That he was murdered six hundred years before she was born?

Nay.

It was inconceivable. The very thought of speaking those words made him feel like a madman… except that… it was all true.

He could offer a partial truth.

"What Mordecai is, that's what I am, too."

"A… Shadow Beast?"

There was contempt in her voice. Cael tugged his reliquary from her hand and let it drop between them. "If that's the name I must bear."

"Nay," she said. "You are not what he is! I know that in my heart!"

And yet, he was…

"Oh, my love," she said gently, catching his cheek in her palm. "A man is not the sum of his body parts, but rather, the sum of his deeds." Very gently, she moved her hand to his chest, laying it atop his beating heart. "I know you! You are not the same as Mordecai."

Cael swallowed whatever words he'd been about to say.

He wanted desperately to believe she spoke true… wanted to see himself through her eyes—not as the shell of a man he'd become. Later, he decided. Later was soon enough to reveal the rest—later when he hadn't any choice.

Right now, bathed in the light of his wife's love and adoration, he couldn't bear it if she turned away. One last time before they rose, he longed to taste the sweet nectar of her body and revel in the warmth of her touch. Forgoing any more words, he rolled atop her, lifting himself up and taking his cock into his hand, he gave her a lazy smile…