Chapter 12 #2
“Mary, you’re looking well.” Lachlan hugged her tight and whispered, “Leave your ogre of a husband and run away with me, won’t you?”
Mary hooted and slapped his shoulder. “Listen to you.” She turned to Naida.
“You might be a stranger, but not for long. I’m Mary, and if you need anything, you’ve only to call on me.
” She took Naida’s hand, and the moment their skin touched, Mary stilled.
Her smile fell. “Mother of God, what’ve I done? ”
“You are right—I am not human,” Naida whispered. “But you’ve no obligation, Mairi a gael. I can see that your heart is as bright as your smile.”
Mary seemed to relax, but her joy turned to suspicion when Godrik and Cadell walked from around the back of the van, carrying duffel bags and an odd collection of weapons. “Duncan, what’s going on?”
“Och, Mary.” He scratched his beard and winced. “I don’t suppose Andrew’s noticed anything… odd about the place, has he?”
“Not that he’s mentioned to me, but you know how tight-lipped the man—”
“Duncan!”
A man half as tall as Godrik but nearly as wide walked out from the side of the house, pointing at Duncan.
“You arse!” the burly man said. “You bring a dragon, a wolf, and a fae to this house and you don’t even call to warn us?”
Naida turned to Mary with wide eyes. “Your husband is an ogre?”
Laura and Carys spoke at once. “A what?”
Duncan regularly referred to his grounds keeper as an ogre, but Carys had always considered it a playful insult or a figure of speech.
“Oh, he’s quite tame.” Mary scrunched up her nose. “Tame-ish.”
“Tame… for an ogre?” Naida murmured.
“Wait, ogres are real too?” Laura’s face was a picture of delight. “This country is fantastic!”
“Andy, I can explain.” Duncan raised his hands. “There was a misunderstanding, and Carys thought she was making a bargain with a fae—a dangerous but reasonable bargain—and it ended up being… a little more complicated.”
“There’s a damned fae fort rising in the south.
There’s a sea monster in Yorkshire.” Andy pointed his finger and shoved it under Duncan’s nose.
“And now you’re bringing a Shadowlands menagerie to my woods, and I find imps and redcaps sneaking through the trees.
I had to smash two of the buggers this morning. What the fuck is going on?”
“Technically they are my woods,” Duncan said. “But you’re correct. The Morrígan is loose in the Brightlands and trying to weaken the gates from this side.”
Andy’s face went pale, and Carys wasn’t sure, but there might have been a slight greenish tinge to his skin.
Lachlan added, “So things are starting to sneak through. That sea monster in Yorkshire was one of them.”
Mary walked over and Andy grabbed her around the waist, gripping her to his side as he bared teeth that were distinctly less human than Carys would have expected for the average Scottish groundskeeper.
Right. So ogres were definitely a thing that existed.
“Andy, calm down,” Duncan said. “That’s why we’re here. We need help and—”
“I had enough of the bloody fae when I left that place.” Andy glanced at Naida. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Naida already had her shoes off and had walked onto the lawn in front of the manor house. “Your woods are very beautiful. I can tell the trees are deeply happy with you as their steward.”
Andy said nothing, but his expression softened.
“This is my fault.” Carys stepped forward. “And I’m so sorry that I have brought anything bad to Murrayshall House. Or the woods. But I’m trying to figure out a way to get the Morrígan back to the Shadowlands so the Brightlands stay safe from giant serpents and ancient Celtic war gods.”
Andy nodded. “Appreciate that.”
“We should go through the gate tonight,” Duncan said. “But right now I need something to eat and bed.” He grabbed Carys’s hand and led her inside the house. “The rest of you, make yourselves at home.”
Duncan had his eyes closed and his feet sticking out of the tub in the bathroom of the vast suite that was the laird’s bedchamber at Murrayshall House.
“Carys?”
“I’m here.”
“Come and join me.”
She would. As soon as she could take it all in. If Carys had ever pictured the lord of the manor’s bedchamber, this was it.
There was a vast four-poster bed with a coat of arms carved into the headboard. There were framed landscape paintings on the honey-brown wood paneling, and a large rack of antlers decorated the wall behind a truly massive wardrobe.
Carys perched on a bench at the foot of the bed, peeking at Duncan as he hummed in the bath.
His voice echoed in the marble-tiled bathroom. “Professor Morgan, the tub is big enough for two.”
“Is this entire room yours?”
“This entire estate is mine,” he said. “Every room. Every bathroom. Every library.”
She jumped to her feet. “There’s more than one library?”
Duncan chuckled and stretched out an arm. “I should have led with that.” He opened his hand, palm out. “Come on now. You look a bit tired, lass. Come relax in the tub with me.”
Relaxation was the last thing on her mind.
All she had to do was see the drops of steaming water rolling down his massive shoulders and she was convinced. Carys toed off her shoes, pushed down her jeans, and walked barefoot to the bathroom in an oversize button-down shirt and a pair of pink panties.
She walked across the cool tile and put one foot on the edge of the tub, right next to Duncan’s shoulder. “You think I need to relax?”
His head fell back, and his eyes went straight to the juncture of her thighs. “Did I mention that everything in this house is mine?”
Carys raised one eyebrow. “Including that?”
Duncan trailed a wet finger from her anklebone, up the inside of her calf, behind her knee, and up her thigh before he dipped two fingers under her panties and into her sex, which was already damp and needy.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Especially that.”
He eased her leg into the water, spreading her wider as his fingers stroked and teased her beneath the silk.
Carys could barely breathe. The air was damp with steam from the bath. One foot was held firm in Duncan’s hand while the other was planted on the cold tile.
The sensations were a riot of contradictions. Hot and cold. Soft and firm.
Duncan stroked the arch of her foot where it rested between his legs, and Carys felt the hard length of his erection against her ankle.
He licked up the inside of her knee and her thigh; then her hips arched toward his mouth as he took his fingers away, gripping her backside as his tongue stroked her clit over the thin silk.
“Duncan—” She choked on his name. “Oh God.”
She braced her hand on his wet shoulder as he scraped his teeth over the soaked material.
“I’d say take them off” —he spread his tongue and licked her over the silk— “but then I’d have to let go of you.” He pressed the tip of his tongue to her swollen clitoris and hummed. “And I like you right where you are, Professor Morgan.”
The wet silk only made her flesh more sensitive. Her desire was so close to the surface, she felt like it was seconds before his teasing tongue had her falling over the edge of climax.
Duncan pulled her into the tub, ripping her panties down her legs as she fell into the water. He caught her in his arms, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt in an attempt to bare her breasts to his hungry mouth.
“Big tub,” she managed to gasp. “This is a very big tub.”
“Oh aye.” He gave up and tore the shirt down the center, sending buttons flying as Carys straddled his legs. “Big tub. Cast it myself.”
“Oh, that’s… great. Good.” She could barely think. She wanted him in her. She wanted his thick erection filling her up, and she wanted it so much she could cry. “In me. Please. Please.”
“Shhh.” He put his hands on her hips, lifted her up, and slid her slowly down his erection, impaling her on the length of his rock-hard cock.
A sob caught in her throat. It was so good.
So, so good.
“That’s a lass,” he growled. “That’s my Carys.”
Her flesh was still swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, and Carys could feel another wave coming as he lifted her up and down, helping her to ride him in the water.
She came all over him, her body tightening around his cock, and fell forward. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crying out against his neck as Duncan thrust up, over and over again until he groaned out her name and dug his fingers into her thighs so hard he might have left bruises.
“Fuck me,” he choked out. “Oh, fuck me.”
“I just did.” She laid her head on his shoulder, and there were flashing lights behind her closed eyes. “It was great.”
“Professor Morgan?”
She kissed his neck. “Yes, Laird Duncan.”
His voice had a tinge of dread. “Condom. We forgot a condom.”
Her breath hitched; then she let it out in a whoosh. “Good thing Laura reminded me to go to the pharmacy when we were in London.” She kissed his shoulder again. “I’m good.”
“You’re more than good.” He stroked his fingers up and down her spine. “You’re amazing.”
“And you have a thing for bathtubs.”
“Only since I met you.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Just so you know, there’s a bathtub in every suite in this house.”
“How many suites?”
“Eleven.”
She nodded. “Then we’ve got our work cut out for us.”