Chapter Nine
Balor barely slept that night. Not only because of their lovemaking, but also with a realization he didn’t want to face. He had been truthful with Mairead, that he had never been intimate with a woman—he’d only learned how to give pleasure.
But he knew enough, from the stories of other soldiers, that there was usually blood and pain the first time. Yet for her, there had seemed to be no pain, no blood.
And he didn’t know how to feel about it. Was he wrong? Was it simply his own ignorance causing suspicions? Or was there another reason, one he didn’t want to admit?
She nestled against him in sleep, her body warm and soft. The urge came over him, to take her again and lose himself in her arms. But it felt as if an unspoken secret hung between them.
Did it matter if she’d been with another man first? The thought filled him with raw jealousy, and he tensed. Had it been her choice? Or had someone hurt her against her will? The thoughts swarmed over him, darkening his mood.
But then she turned to face him, resting her cheek against his heart. ‘Are you awake?’
‘I am.’ His voice came out cooler than he’d intended, and he leaned in to kiss her softly. She kissed him back, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of her. His body instantly responded to the touch, and she opened to him.
A fierce jealousy made him want to drive every memory of any other man from her past and replace the man with himself. He wanted her to remember no one but him.
Balor took his rigid erection and slid it against the seam of her, tempting Mairead, just as he aroused himself. Then he bent to take her nipple in his mouth again, trying to pleasure her.
He wanted to be the one who could meet her needs, the one who consumed her thoughts. The edge of his jealousy was a shard that slashed through his control and left him hanging by a thread. She gasped as his tongue slid over her, tasting the sweetness of her nipple.
But then she guided him inside her, and he slid within her wetness. He pinned her wrists to the soft fur beneath her, thrusting slowly. He continued to tease one erect nipple, then the other, noticing how she moaned and tried to move her hips to take him.
‘What is it, Balor?’ she asked quietly. ‘Something’s wrong.’
She’d read him so easily, sensing his change in mood.
But he forced his anger back and lied, ‘It’s nothing.
’ He gentled his pace, watching her expression as he took her slowly.
He remembered how much she had liked it when he’d teased the hooded flesh above her entrance, so he brought his thumb there and circled slowly.
‘Balor,’ she whispered, closing her eyes. ‘Gods above, don’t stop.’
He obeyed, but when she met his thrusts with her own hips, welcoming him home, the insidious voice inside him whispered words he didn’t want to hear.
You’re not good enough for a king’s daughter. You’ll never be the man she needs you to be.
She opened her eyes again, shuddering as he kept pressing her closer and closer to fulfilment. Her gaze was filled with tenderness as he made love to her.
And then she pushed against him, rolling him to his back.
She gave herself over, riding him and increasing the pace.
He sat up, and the motion brought them even closer, her body moving atop his.
She was squeezing him inside, and he couldn’t stop himself from seizing her waist and quickening the penetrations until he was lost in her again.
‘I love you,’ she cried out.
The words washed over him, filling him with both joy and fear. He couldn’t stop himself from claiming her body in the same way he wanted her heart.
He couldn’t answer her, for words weren’t enough. He knew he was a bastard for sharing this night with her, especially when she would likely marry someone else.
But those words completely broke him apart.
With a few more strokes, she finished him off, and he didn’t have time to pull out before he erupted inside her body, shuddering as the fast release barreled through him.
Too fast, he realized. And as he rolled over, still inside her, he used his thumb to continue stroking her, feeling the way she arched to meet him, until a few moments later, she gave a cry and shuddered at her own completion.
There could be a child, he realized.
For so long, he’d avoided the risk. He’d not wanted to sire a bastard. And yet, she’d said she loved him.
If she did grow round from his baby, Mairead would never treat a child in the way he’d been treated. He could easily imagine her cradling an infant, kissing their child with love.
It shook him to the core.
But she was crying now, and he gathered her in his arms. ‘What is it, a mhurnín? Did I hurt you?’
‘No. But I knew I shouldn’t have done this,’ she wept. ‘I don’t want to let you go. Not anymore.’
Balor wiped at her tears and cradled her against his chest. He caressed her back, down her spine, soothing her without words until she calmed.
She stared at him with raw emotion. ‘I’m so afraid of what will happen next.’
She was right. If her father learned that he’d taken her, Balor wouldn’t face imprisonment—he’d be killed for daring to touch the king’s daughter. But he didn’t want those thoughts to torment her during their last moments together. Instead, he kissed the top of her head and held her in his embrace.
‘Am I wrong to love you?’ she whispered.
‘Aye,’ he answered. ‘I was never the man you deserved. But for this night, at least, you’re mine.’ He continued touching her, moving his hands down to her bottom, cupping her even while he was still buried inside her body.
‘You are the man I want.’ She clung to him, pressing another kiss to his chest. ‘I promise you that.’
He held her, breathing in the scent of her hair. The jealousy returned, despite his attempts to hold it back. He wanted to believe her, but the same suspicions kept rising.
‘I’m not the only man you ever loved, am I?’
Her posture grew motionless. ‘What do you mean?’
He stroked her spine and dared to ask, ‘Who was he? The first man you loved.’
She pulled back to look at him, and the stricken expression on her face confirmed his fears. ‘Why are you asking me this?’
Because he couldn’t stop the dark jealousy gathering inside. He withdrew from her body and sat beside her.
‘There was no blood or pain,’ he said quietly. ‘You were hoping I wouldn’t notice, weren’t you?’ Balor locked his gaze with her, wondering if she would give him the truth.
Mairead reached for her léine and pulled it over her head, keeping her knees up. For a long moment, her face turned crimson before she turned away from him. The silence was enough to rekindle his jealousy. He’d wanted to be wrong.
But then she answered, ‘H-his name was Diarmud.’ Her emotions rose higher the moment she spoke the name.
He struggled to keep his voice even. ‘Did your father know him?’
Her face paled, and she closed her eyes, releasing a shaky breath. ‘He was one of my father’s soldiers,’ she answered at last. ‘I had planned to marry him in secret.’
The heartbreak in her voice made him aware that she’d said was, not is.
‘What happened?’
‘My father forbade me to be with him.’ She lowered her head. ‘Diarmud was killed in a raid, trying to prove himself worthy of marrying me.’ The grief and raw emotions on her face were real, revealing the feelings she still held within her.
He didn’t know what to say now. He understood her fear that the same thing would happen again.
Her father would never approve of a bastard like him.
Balor sat up, wondering where he fit in.
Did Mairead truly love him, as she’d said?
He wanted to believe that her feelings were real. And yet, the thought seemed impossible.
The greater problem was that, even if he did keep her with him, he had no means of supporting her.
Aye, she might find it romantic at first—until they lived in poverty.
The only way he could provide for her was to hire out his sword.
And he simply couldn’t imagine becoming a mercenary and forcing her into a life of hardship.
Though she might claim it didn’t matter, one day she would resent him for it.
Hunger wasn’t at all romantic—but it was a reality he’d endured.
He didn’t know what to do. His brain warned that it was better to give her up to another nobleman than see her suffer. Wasn’t that was love was? Doing what was right, even if the thought tore him apart inside?
But his heart wanted him to find another way of being with her.
Mairead’s expression was somber as she faced him. ‘I cannot change the past,’ she said softly. ‘But will you let it take away our future?’
* * *
Mairead could see the turmoil of emotions over his face. She’d bared her soul to him, hoping he could understand the reasons why she’d given herself to Diarmud. She had truly believed the man had been her first love.
But now she understood that those feelings were nothing compared to the way she felt about Balor. And fear roiled within her that he didn’t feel the same way. From the way he was looking at her now, it seemed as if he wanted to end things between them.
‘What do you want from me, Mairead?’ he asked. ‘Do you want to leave éireann with me and go to England? Even if it means never seeing your family again?’
Her breath came out in a slow release, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to say. But despite her feelings for him, the thought of leaving her homeland and all her family was unbearable.
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. But the more she thought of it, the more she realized that it was no different from her other suitors. Lord Lowell wanted her to leave éireann and live with him in England. The only difference was that her family approved of the earl.
And she didn’t love him.
Balor had always listened to her opinions, treating her as an equal. Would Lord Lowell do the same? Somehow, she didn’t think so.