Chapter 14 #2
He checked the door again, then turned back to watch the waterline as it inched its way up the stone enclosure.
The water needed to flow faster into the tub.
He thanked the gods for the ancient spring flowing directly beneath Taroc Na Mor and the spa from one of the earliest Guardians.
As the legend went, the woman complained of a constant chill even on the balmiest of Highland days.
So, the Draecna built her the spa. Chiseled stone blocks mudded together created an inviting tub in what she deemed as the warmest room in the castle.
She had ordered it built in one corner of the overly large kitchen.
Heating pits surrounded the perimeter of the tub.
Roaring fires kept the magical spring water inside the stone tank comfortably warm for as long as the fires burned.
The complex system of ancient piping no longer functioned, but the original sluicing mechanism had been quite impressive indeed.
Stripping off his clothes, he hesitated before stepping into the water.
He had always heard the spring had strange powers.
Unexplained energies from this side of the portal.
It didn’t matter. There wasn’t time; he had to get clean.
After a deep breath, he eased down into the steaming hot water. He knew he didn’t have to light the fires to keep the water warm. He could always use his powers. But he had to admit, he liked the sound of the crackling flames.
“Taggart, are you in here?” Hannah shouldered open the door, her dinner tray in her hands.
Holy blazes. She had gotten down here quicker than he thought. He grabbed the sliver of soap wedged in a niche of the tub, submerged, scrubbed his armpits, then slid back above the surface of the water. “Aye, lass. I’m over here in my bath. Would ye mind handing me a fresh cake of soap and a rag?”
She stared at him; her knuckles whitening to reveal a tighter grip on her dinner tray. “There is a bathtub in the kitchen?”
As he slicked back his dripping hair, he leaned back into the recessed seat of the tub, forcing a nonchalant air. He gave a teasing wink and propped his feet on the edge of the tub. “’Tis a long story.” He scrubbed a bit more, then stretched farther back in the tub.
She slid the tray onto the marble countertop, muttering under breath as she searched the shelf above the sink for a bar of soap. “Is there anything about you that isn’t a bit of a long story?” She bent to rummage through the cabinet.
He pulled in a deep breath and rubbed a wet hand across his face. Bloody hell. The woman had a fine, round bottom. His hands itched to cup its firmness. “Hannah.”
“What?” She came across the room but maintained a healthy distance from tub. She stretched and held out the soap and the small towel.
“Come closer.” Leaning over the side of the tub, he reached for her, ignoring the bar of soap she offered. He would not miss his chance this time. The woman wanted him. Yearning filled her eyes. Fiery passion danced in the darkness of their depths, and he smelled her need.
“I . . .” She paused, then licked her lips as her gaze raked across him. “I don’t want to get wet.”
With a wicked chuckle, he crooked a finger and summoned her closer. “I can tell by the look in your eyes, lass, it’s a little too late for that.”
Color flared on her cheeks as his thinly veiled meaning hit her. “You know what I meant!”
He chuckled again and hooked his finger in the front of her jeans.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her to him.
He lowered his voice as he reached up and caressed the curve of her cheek.
“Aye, Hannah. I know exactly what ye mean.” Their yearning blazed hotter than the fire pits heating the water.
He refused to deny himself any longer, and the tenets could just be damned.
“Come to me, Hannah. Let us end these games. I am weary. Lonely. And I need ye with a vengeance.”
“I see.” She wet her lips again, finding herself trapped in his gaze.
He had said everything she needed to hear.
Convinced her. His deep, rasping voice, paired with his battle-hardened flesh, filled her with fire.
She retreated a step, peeled off her shirt, and shucked her jeans.
All the while reminding herself to breathe.
She tried to stop shaking and failed. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, drowning out all else.
She had only been with one man before, and there had been none since.
But heaven help her; she wanted Taggart.
Ached to wrap her legs around him and ride.
The clarity of the water revealed all his body promised. He was right. She was already wet.
And then he stood, pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his slippery, hard chest. The coolness of her flesh pressed against his steaming-hot skin stoked her need.
He settled them into the hollowed-out corner of the tub.
Without hesitation, she straddled him, rubbing against his long, hard shaft, but not yet brave enough to mount him.
“It’s been a while,” she whispered. “I might be a little rusty.”
“I verra much doubt that.” He cupped both her breasts in his calloused hands, teasing her nipples into aching, hard pearls.
He swallowed her moans with a claiming kiss.
She shuddered, clenching him tighter with her thighs.
A glorious ache thrummed through her body, threatening an imminent, mind-reeling explosion.
How could he make her climax so quickly?
They hadn’t even consummated the moment.
She ground her hips, mimicking the motion she needed while locking her legs around him.
Merciful heavens; she needed more, and she needed it now.
“Now,” she rasped.
“Slow down, maemos. We have all night.” He nibbled a trail along her throat while sliding his hands down her back and squeezing her buttocks. “I have wanted this so long,” he added in a throaty whisper.
“So have I,” she confessed after another breathy moan. The heat of the water. His prodding erection against her aching sex. He needed to be inside her now. She reached down between them, held him steady, and deftly took what she wanted.
“Yes—” The word escaped her in a hiss. It had been so long. She worked her hips, riding slowly, struggling to accommodate his size. “Oh yes,” she repeated, settling into a tantalizing rhythm.
He clamped his hands around her waist and tried to make her sit still. “Maemos ma dao! Uthe dina cuma!”
Apparently, sex with him was so phenomenal, she had lost the ability to understand speech. “What did you just say?” she gasped, flexing her thighs and gyrating faster.
After a long, low, guttural groan, he framed her face in his hands and glared at her. “It is Erastaedian! I said, Slow down, my love, before I come!”
She pulled his hands down to her breasts and bucked harder. “So sorry. There is no way I can slow this.” She leaned forward and kissed him without slowing her pace.
Water sloshed and overflowed the confines of the tub. The wet friction of their wet skin increased her pleasure.
He seemed to revel in her moans, growling along with her. He caught one of her nipples between his teeth and suckled. Hard and long. Her groans shifted to loud keens of pleasure that appeared to drive him over the edge. He threw back his head and tensed, roaring as she gyrated harder and faster.
And then explosions of ecstasy took control.
She screamed, digging her nails into his shoulders as she spasmed over and over.
He joined her, thrusting upward and holding fast while bellowing more shouts of whatever language that was he used before.
She didn’t care that she didn’t understand the words as she collapsed in his embrace.
It didn’t matter. She understood the intent. And enjoyed it immensely.
A frantic scratching, somewhere in the distance, made it through the lovely, warm depths of her slumber.
The faintest hint of a muffled tap joined it.
As if sharp little claws scrabbled against a hard surface.
Hannah lifted her head, forced one eye open, and peered around the dimly lit kitchen.
Where was that noise coming from? Sounded like a herd of mice on the move.
The digging stopped. Good. She turned her attention back to Taggart’s magnificent body stretched out on the blanket beside her.
They were alone on their pallet beside the spa.
The sight of him made her smile. She dropped back down with an almost purring sigh, nestling deeper into the haven of his arms. A deep inhale pulled in his scent, marking the memory with complete permanence.
He smelled heavenly. Pure, lusty male and the sex they had enjoyed all night.
She traced her fingers down the granite like ridges of his abdominals, then smoothed her hand back up to his chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this content, and it wasn’t merely the sex.
He truly seemed to need her much more than anyone else ever had.
She scolded herself. No. She should not compare him to anyone.
Not taint the unimaginable pleasure she had just enjoyed with painful memories of the past. As she nestled her head more comfortably in the dip of his shoulder, she traced the taut planes of his chest. His skin was so smooth.
She wondered if the Draecna blood kept him from having any chest hair?
Her husband had been like a Sasquatch. Crap on a cracker!
There she went again. She squinted her eyes tightly shut and pressed her forehead against his.
No more comparisons! Well, maybe one more.
Her heart swelled as she snuggled closer.
Last night with Taggart had made her feel more cared for than anyone else ever had.
A sharp, cracking snap echoed from the depths of the caverns beneath the kitchen, followed by louder scratching.
There was no way that was mice. But if not mice or even huge rats; what kind of animal roamed the depths of Taroc Na Mor?
Fully awake now, she sat up and frowned at the door leading to the tunnels.
The sound seemed to come from the nursery.
She hoped the eggs were all right. What if Sloan was trying to steal another one?
She took hold of Taggart’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze, then a gentle shake. “Hey! Wake up! Something is going on in the nursery. We should go check.”
No response. He merely reached for her, mumbled something incoherent, and pulled her closer. She stifled a muffled laugh. Poor man. Completely exhausted. As he should be. She tried to ignore the flash of heat flooding her belly at the mere thought of all they had done the evening before.
The thump and scratch from the caverns repeated.
If it was an animal, it didn’t sound very large.
Surely, she could handle this by herself and let him rest. She pressed a light kiss to the center of his chest and quietly rose from their pallet.
She would have a look, then get him to join her upstairs where they could test out the lovely pillowed nest of her Draecna-sized bed.
She eased around him and gathered up her clothes. After she slipped them on, she tucked the blanket over him and gave him another soft kiss before slipping through the door leading down to the tunnels.