Chapter Sixteen
“Wrap the kissing bough in twigs, greenery, ribbons, fruit, and wishes.”
Desmond’s steps hastened as he approached his chamber. His hand shook. He had waited nearly an hour before saying his farewells. His words to Ailsa were true. Her father was so deep in his cups that Angus and Duncan had to help him to his chamber, since Muir had left the feasting hours earlier.
Opening the door, he slipped inside the room. Candlelight flooded the chamber, bathing it in a soft glow. The flames from the hearth snapped, and warmth surrounded him. Yet, it was the vision sitting under the covers against the pillows that shone the brightest. Her golden hair shimmered, and his fingers itched to trail through its silkiness.
“Desmond.” Her husky voice lured him to her. She leaned forward, the cover slipping free and exposing her luscious breasts. Her rosy nipples tempted him to come and feast.
The storm built within his blood to touch, kiss, and devour Ailsa. It clouded all other thought. Unable to speak, he stripped his tunic free and removed his boots. When he started to unfasten his trews, her hand covered his and stilled his movement.
“Let me.”
“Ye are a brazen lass.”
“Is it wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nae. I find it pleasing.” Removing his hand, he placed her slender one over his swollen cock. “Set me free, Ailsa.”
Her mouth parted and with trembling fingers, she slowly unlaced his trews, before pushing them down past his hips. Desmond gritted his teeth when she trailed one finger over the top and down the ridge of his shaft. He fought the temptation to push her back onto the furs and bury himself deep inside her body.
“Ye are magnificent. ’Tis hard and soft. I wish to do the same as ye have done to me.” Ailsa moved out from the furs and knelt in front of him, mesmerized by his body.
Clenching his fists, he watched in a haze as her tongue darted out, teasing and tormenting him. Her hair fell over her face brushing against his thighs as she continued to explore his body with her mouth. His balls tightened, and he feared he’d spill his seed before he had a chance to touch her exquisite body. When she took him into her mouth, his vision blurred, and he let out a hiss. “Stop,” he growled.
“Did I hurt ye?” Her voice was one of shock.
“Nae.” He grasped her to his chest. “But my need is fierce and I cannae hold back.”
She quirked a brow mischievously. “Ye have just arrived.”
Desmond nuzzled the soft skin below her ear. “Yet, I have thought of naught else this entire day. My body has been hard and aching for ye.”
“Then ease our torment, my love.”
Cupping her head, he took her lips in a kiss that was ravenous and unyielding. She moaned as he swept his tongue deep into her lush, warm mouth. He slid one hand down over her body, fondling her breasts and then sliding it lower until he came to her soft curls. Parting them, he trailed one finger over her sensitive core. Ailsa wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Hunger fueled their desire, each fighting for control. As Desmond continued to stroke the flame of desire, she whimpered and clutched at him.
Breaking free, she let out a cry. “Nae, dinnae stop.”
He leaned over her. “I have only begun.” Taking her mouth once again, he shoved them farther back on the bed. Her scent surrounded him, and his heart pounded in his ears. Desmond found he could deny her naught as he thrust deeply into her heat. Senses burning, emotions overtook him. Ones he could no longer shrug off, surfaced.
Desmond loved her. He longed to claim all of her—always. Not merely for this night, but also forever.
With a groan, he withdrew and entered her again. Bringing one of her legs over his waist, he thrust even deeper. “Ye are mine, Ailsa.” Though he longed to tell her more, he found the words trapped within his heart.
She raked her teeth over his jaw, reveling in the sensation of him being inside her. There was no pain, only blinding pleasure. With each touch, stroke, and kiss, Desmond ignited a firestorm inside her body. Trying to match his rhythm, she found her own, letting it build. The tide of passion lifted her, and when he cupped her bottom, he widened the pleasure.
Higher and higher he took her, his breathing coming out in short gasps. Her lips sought his—hot and demanding. And then her body exploded into an array of bliss, lifting her high within the stars. Ailsa arched, screaming the name of the man who had stolen her heart.
Desmond’s own guttural cry of release matched hers, and he shuddered violently in her arms.
Moments later, he rolled over onto his back, bringing her to his side. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found him gazing down at her. She swallowed. There was so much to say, and she didn’t know where to begin.
Ailsa wanted his love, but dared not to ask for it. She wanted his heart, but feared he would break her own by refusing. She wanted him to stand with her on the ancient Stone of Claiming back in her homeland, yet dreaded asking him to give up his freedom.
Her lips trembled, and a lone tear slipped free. “I must—”
Desmond placed a finger on her lips. “Shh…mo ghrá. Come morn, ye can speak. For now, let me love ye. ’Tis all I ask of ye.”
And as his lips sought hers once again, Ailsa reveled in his touch, letting him make love to her in places that left her senses reeling and begging for more. When sleep beckoned to both, they feared to waste a single moment and sat talking about their homelands. Ailsa watched Desmond’s eyes light up as he spoke of his people and the land. Though he loved the sea, he found his love for the people even greater.
Curled up in his arms, she listened with rapt attention to him tell tales of his brothers. Their joy was complete when they were finally reunited with their sister Fiona several years ago. He’d explained the battle that had resulted in the death of their parents. They had summoned a Fenian Fae warrior to take their sister to safety, not fathoming she would be whisked away to a future time in Eire.
Between the husky burr of Desmond’s voice and the heat from his body, Ailsa drifted off to sleep.
Early morning birdsong echoed within Ailsa’s dreams. Her hand reached out, seeking the heat she craved. When she encountered naught, she blinked in confusion. Bolting upright, she brushed the hair from her face and glanced at her surroundings. For a brief moment, she pondered if last night was a dream, since she was now in her own chamber. However, her face heated, noting she wore naught under the covers, and her body waxed sore from all the pleasure Desmond had bestowed on her.
Her champion. Her warrior. Her lover. “Mine!” She shoved a fist against her mouth to stifle the cries.
Sadness weighed heavily on her heart and soul, and she tossed aside the covers. Cold air greeted her as she reached for a covering. As she walked slowly to the window, a lone tear slipped down her cheek. “How can I leave ye? Oh, Goddess, what am I to do?”
Biting her lower lip, she swallowed. Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, she moved away from the window.
****
Desmond rubbed at his eyes vigorously. Pacing within his chamber, he found himself torn. Taking Ailsa back to her room had ripped his heart to shreds. Honor had demanded him to return her to her own bed. Nevertheless, the man in him yearned to keep her safe within his arms.
But there was a fact he could no longer deny.
His mind betrayed him. Ailsa MacDuff was not his. She would return to her island and claim another for her husband.
Dark fury burst inside Desmond. Picking up a jug, he threw it across the room, the sound echoing within the cold chamber when it slammed against the stone wall and shattered.
“Nae!” His anguish cry pierced the room as he glanced in all directions. It was their haven for one night. Yet, he longed for more.
Grabbing his cloak, he stormed out of his chamber, vowing to never return. The room held secrets he would take to his grave.
Ignoring the shouts of Fiona and the other MacKay women behind him, he continued to stride with purpose. He wanted naught with anyone.
Steadily making his way along the corridor, his steps eventually led him to the stairs of the north tower. Flinging the door open, he let it crash against the wall. The blast of brittle air greeted Desmond and he welcomed its sting. The sky was bleak, and the hills empty and forlorn.
“Why?” he shouted into the wind. The Gods were cruel, he deemed.
He had been a fool. Love had entered his heart for the first time, and he longed to rip it free. His cloak slapped against his legs as he braced his hands on the rough stone. Misery and bitterness took hold of his soul, forever changing the man inside.
Never would there be another. Even the thought of returning to Navan left an empty ache within his chest.
Ragged clouds dotted the sky, their mists fingering flimsy trails across a gray sky. He watched as a pair of hawks dove in unison, listening to their cries.
Desmond cast his gaze outward toward the trees, until his sight rested on the waters of the loch. There on the shore stood Ailsa and his heart froze. Alone. Her golden hair was unbound, whipping around her body, where only hours earlier he had cherished and loved the velvet softness of her skin.
He could not utter the words of farewell, even when he had placed her sleeping form on her bed. The thought of never seeing her again was akin to an arrow to the heart, and his breathing hitched. Bleak despair filled his soul while he continued to stare at her.
“Ye are a fool, O’Quinlan,” uttered Alastair in a low voice.
Desmond clenched his jaw and ignored the man’s intrusion.
“Her father is making ready to leave. They have released his wife’s ashes in the water. Time is slipping away. Dinnae risk letting her go.”
He glanced sharply at the man. “Leave me,” he ordered.
Alastair shook his head. Moving away from the door, he approached Desmond. “Dinnae do what I did to Fiona. I ken those feelings of torment. They will continue to claw at ye. I once asked ye if ye loved anyone. If ye do so now, the pain of losing her will haunt ye forever.”
“Bastard,” growled Desmond and took a fist to the man’s jaw. “How do ye ken how I feel? And I would never—”
The Dragon Knight staggered, but quickly recovered. Alastair rubbed a hand over his chin. His eyes blazed with his inner dragon, and his fists clenched.
Desmond fought to control his ragged breathing, and he wiped a hand over his forehead. Was that what he was doing? Letting Ailsa walk away from him? Or was he fleeing her? Did he fear her rejection if he uttered the words of love out loud to her? Could this be why he now stayed away? Never did he imagine love could shred a heart and soul to tormenting pieces. Nor bring him glorious joy. A double-edged blade, he mused.
He looked over the wall. His life stood on the shores by the white-capped water. And it all made sense. Turning, he faced Alastair. “Ye…” Desmond swallowed. “Ye were correct.”
The Dragon Knight stepped forward and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Good, since I dinnae want to take a fist to your face. Or worse, a blade.”
Desmond smiled weakly. “Forgive me?”
Alastair sighed. “Aye. In love, there will always be battles. Now go to her.”
Giving the man a curt nod, Desmond removed his cloak and handed it to Alastair. “’Tis easier to run.”
Leaving the tower, he descended the stairs two at a time, and almost collided with Deirdre and Brigid at the bottom. Making a quick apology, he hastened out of the castle.
His heart pounding, he ran past the guards and through the portcullis. Dogs darted out of his way, barking at him as he sped past them. Joy and worry filled him the nearer he came to her, and his steps slowed.
Trying to calm his racing heart, he approached her on shaky limbs. His mind raced with the words he wanted to convey, yet his tongue could barely utter one word. “Ailsa.”
Time stilled as she turned around to face him, tears streaming down her face. “Desmond,” she uttered on a choked sob.
Striding toward her, he cupped her face and brushed away the tears with the pad of his thumb. His eyes roamed her features, and his breathing calmed. “I cannae let ye leave without speaking my heart. I love ye, Ailsa. I have naught to give ye but my love. My honor, strength, and body shall be yours. Will ye become my wife?”
He heard her indrawn breath and feared her reply.
She placed a hand on his chest. “Oh, Desmond, can ye stand beside me, knowing I will one day rule my people? Can ye give up your home—your people, which ye love fiercely? If so, there shall be no regrets years later. My heart could not bear ye slipping away from me with guilt.”
His voice was hoarse as he spoke. “My home is with ye, Ailsa MacDuff. Your people will become mine.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, cherishing the feel of her in his arms. “Ye already have my heart. Dinnae set me free to wander the land alone without ye. I have nae wish to become a hardened man.”
“My champion. My warrior. Aye, Desmond, I will take ye as my husband and become your wife. Ye will stand with me on the Claiming Stone of my people. We shall both rule as one. I have chosen ye.” She brushed a lock of hair from his face. “I love ye with all my heart.”
Letting out a groan, Desmond captured her mouth, sinking into the warmth of her lips. The kiss seeped through his veins, burning a path to his soul. Breaking free, he nuzzled her neck. “Can we marry right away?”
Ailsa leaned into him, brushing her cheek against his. “Aye, but ye do ken we must speak with my father.” Nervous laughter bubbled forth. “He might want to take a blade to ye.”
His expression turned somber, and Desmond pulled back. “I dinnae fear him. I will proudly walk into the lion’s den and face the man. I love ye.”
She laughed. “Kiss me again for courage and then we shall face the lion together.”
****
“So this is where you are all hiding,” pronounced Fiona, entering the north tower, along with Brigid, Deirdre, and Aileen.
All the Dragon Knights were leaning on the wall and gazing outward.
“We have a grand view of the loch,” stated Alastair, drawing his wife to his side.
Deirdre handed her son, Alexander, to Angus. “What is so fascinating, husband?”
Brigid went into Duncan’s embrace and looked outward. “Good grief! You’re spying on Desmond and Ailsa?”
“Seriously, Stephen?” asked Aileen, reaching for his hand.
“We had to make sure Desmond offered her marriage,” explained Alastair and placed a kiss on his wife’s forehead.
Fiona poked him in the chest. “And what if my brother decided not to ask her? I thought you said this was his journey. Furthermore, what if Ailsa wants to leave?”
Alastair shrugged, but a smile tugged at his mouth. “I would have caused the ground to rumble, bringing forth boulders, and blocking her path.”
Stephen wiped a hand across the back of his neck. “Or, I would have called forth the water from the loch, flooding the area.”
Deirdre glared at her Dragon Knight. “You?”
Angus tucked his son close against his chest. “Surround the man and woman within a ring of fire until they came to their senses.”
Brigid rolled her eyes and faced her husband. “Let me guess. You would have stirred up a massive snow storm, right?”
Duncan arched a brow. “I am nae that cruel. Only a fierce thunderstorm.”
“Men,” muttered Fiona. “Or should I say, Dragon Knights.”
All the women nodded in agreement.
Kissing her husband, Brigid started for the door. “Come on ladies. We have a wedding to plan.”