Continuation of yesterday's post...

Here's the rest of the moment between Morrigan and Caoimhín...

______


That froze Caoimhín in place. Was she telling him his fears had been realized? Was she telling him that golden beast had taken Caera? No...no, it couldn't be. She would not give in to him and he would never force himself upon her. Not while a guest of his father. It would be poor manners, at best. Not even the worst of the beastly men who'd been given shelter had even tried to do such a thing. 

But The Dagda was not like other men, so would he?

Morrigan seemed to ignore him as she continued. "What a lovely man he has always been. Tend to my wants and needs and desires, and perhaps I will notice yours. Perhaps. Perhaps not." She gave a soft laugh. "More often, not." Her voice drifted into sadness. "So many times it has been not."

Caoimhín's mind whirled. She was verifying everything he had come to believe about the man. He was able to ask, "How do you know this?"

"I know him," she shot back. "I know his ways. His charming voice. His gentle manner. His blue eyes and hands so soft upon you. I don't know why he was over here. This is not part of our world. He must have been seeking something...or someone. He does that. Most men do that." She shot a glare at Caoimhín. "Are you that kind of man?"

He could not answer. His was lost in wondering what had happened. Had Caera chosen that man over him? Could he have promised to carry her home with him? Take her away to whatever palace he lived in? Even when he already had a mate? Could he have more than one. Too little was known about the Tuatha d'annan to say, for sure. He was confused beyond understanding.

Morrigan's voice cut through to him. "Well? Are you?"

He looked at her, blank. "I...I did not hear what...what you said."

Her entire manner changed and she sighed. "Caoimhín, I have hurt you in some way. I have brought trouble to you. This was not my intention."

She drifted over to him, her every step seductive in ways heartbreakingly beautiful. She caressed his face with the purest tenderness as she continued, "Has my mate planted worry in your heart, for someone? Has he done all he can to appear perfect and glowing and worthy of all to love him? He's very good at that. He can sit as still as the earth and, by doing nothing more than caressing his own lower lip cause every woman close by to gaze upon him. It's a gift, I suppose. Or a curse, if you're fool enough to love him."

Caoimhín was unable to focus on her words. Suddenly, he could see Caera holding that man close. Kissing him. Being with him. All he could think to say was, "How do you know all of this?" His voice shook as he spoke.

"I told you," she said. "I know him. I also know he takes great joy in finding the finest youth of each clan he visits and doing all he can to torment him without raising a finger. Like a cat that's caught a mouse by its tail."

She unfastened his pelt and let it drift away. Her fingers trailed over his tunic and down his arms as she whispered, "When I watched you, a moment ago, standing there and calling to the sea, I could tell you were the finest of your clan. You're strong. Well formed. Then you turned and showed me you have a good chin. Fine lips. Your eyes are open to your soul. Your hair...well that could use some tending, but considering the wind, it is not surprising. What girl could resist you, were it not for The Dagda's magical manner?"

She rested the palm of her hand against his face, the smallest finger gently caressing under his eye. "If he has taken one you fancied, you cannot blame her. He is the one to blame, for none can resist him."

Caoimhín took a step away from her, even more confused and feeling sensations deep within himself that he'd only felt with Caera. "Then what chance have I to be first in her heart?"

Morrigan's smile was tender. "Time will do the replacing. For if she truly cares for you, he will not remain there. He cannot. He is like a spirit that drifts from here to there and cannot rest." Again, she ran the backs of her fingers over his cheek. Light and easy. Sending fire into his heart.

"I...I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do."

"Then stay here until your mind is at rest. Try to recapture that moment of joy you held. I will stay with you. I am not bad company. We can sit here and speak of the world as it exists." She lowered herself to sit on the pelt in a manner that was so easy and elegant, he could not help but watch her. "Let the wind dance our troubles away."

"You...you know of the world?"

"I know where we are, right now, is not the end of it." She reached for his hand. "Some might say it is only the beginning."

He let her guide him down to sit beside her. "Are you not cold?" he asked.

She almost giggled as she shook her head. "We came from a land much colder than this. I am used to it. But if you want to build a fire..."

He looked around. The largest branches were from bushes and shrubs. "Nothing really to use. It would burn out quickly..."

"Then hold me. Let us warm each other."

She nestled herself against him. He hesitated then wrapped his arms around her. She seemed to melt into the same form as him, and the feel of her was intoxicating. The way she drew his arms tight around her, over her breasts...it sent screaming lightning through the whole of him. Her hair flowed down her back like the reeds flowed in the water passing under Aoibhinn. He nuzzled her neck.

"You smell of flowers," he whispered. "How? How can you still smell of flowers before their season?"

She gave a soft light giggle of a laugh, deep and glorious. "It is from the water I bathe in. Heated with dried petals. They lend themselves to me."

"Is that why you're so soft" he asked. "Your skin so fine?"

"I only feel this way because your hands are strong and rough. Your arms solid. I can tell the earth has joined with you."

He chuckled. "Perhaps I should wash in your heated water."

She leaned her head back to look at him, saying, "Don't. My mate, as you call him, would do so. Surely you noticed; there is none of the earth in him."

He laughed. "He said he'd been out hunting. Nearly caught a stag. I found it hard to believe, he was so clean. Stalking any beast is dirty work."

She touched his lips, soft and easy. "You are not one to hide from the need for it. The need to follow your duty. To your clan. But does that need include yourself?"

"Me?"

"All men have a duty to themselves as well as their clan. To show you are able to handle yourself is to show your clan you are able to meet your duty to them."

He almost chuckled. "You know so much...what is my duty to me?"

She licked her lips. "To prove yourself the equal of any man. Even my mate."

He kissed her.

She shifted around to face him. Her left arm circled around to draw him close as her right hand mingled her fingers in his hair. He pulled back a little, looking into her eyes. He almost spoke but she stopped him, murmuring, "This is no time for words. I know the world. I know its meaning. Embrace it, through me. Regain yourself through me. Take back your pride through me. I can show you ways to make anyone love you. Anyone. If you still want her..."

He kissed her, again, and let his hand take a breast. The cloth she wore felt more like her skin...until she took in a deep breath and let him pull it down...down...down her body, revealing her as she let her hand trail down his back and over his rear to grasp the bottom of his tunic and pull it up. He traced his lips down to one of her teats and caressed it with his tongue. She gasped in a laugh of pleasure, then she gripped one of his buttocks, making him jolt up. And chuckle in amazement before he returned to her breasts and nuzzled his face between them. Rubbing one cheek against one then the other cheek against the other.

The sensations now screaming through him were nothing like he'd ever felt before. Her hands trembled as she slipped the other one to hold the other half of his rear. He gulped in shock at how lovely it felt. He feared he was about to explode and could tell from her quickening breath and half-closed eyes she was feeling much of the same...and they had not even joined, yet.

He shifted her dress up her thighs. The beautiful cloth. So perfect and flowing so smoothly along her skin. Now soft and deafening in its need.

Her breath quickened and her hands traced over his hips to take hold of him...then guide him to her. Let him brush himself against her. He gasped. Almost whimpered. Then entered her and suddenly felt he had become one with all existence. Her groans mixed with near laughter as he pushed into her and pulled back then pushed in, again...and with each movement he knew he had found the true meaning of life.

Her hands almost fluttered from the intensity of feeling in her, and she danced her fingers up to grip the neck of his tunic to pull him closer...then suddenly tore it open.

For a moment, she looked horrified, but then he laughed and dove in for another kiss and her hands wrapped around his neck and her nails dug into his skin and he rocked in and out and in and out, faster and faster and faster, holding her and shifting back and wrapping his arms around her as she did the same and on and on and on until waves of need washed over him and her hands dove under his tunic and her fingers dug into his back, cutting him as she groaned and he gasped, and both of them went faster and faster and faster until she screamed for joy and he felt every part of her grip him tighter and he could no longer stop but had to allow furious sensations crashing into him take over and he felt himself unloading into her, over and over and over and she continued to tear into his neck and back and came close to weeping and smiling as gasping short little bursts of joy whimpered from her and he could do nothing more than fight to remember to breathe.

And time stopped.

He pulled her close. Held her tight. Continued to lie atop her. Her breasts against his chest. Her hands now tenderly holding him, her arms gently wrapped around him. He felt himself beginning to wilt, within her, but did not want to move. Could not think to move. Her hair still smelled of flowers. Her skin was wet but still soft and glowing. Her face was light and easy, her eyes focused on some distant thought.

He could not help but kiss her. Then put his cheek next to hers. His voice was filled with joy as he murmured, "I almost feel like howling, again."

She giggled then kissed his ear and let her hands slip off him and around him and under him...and pinched his nipples.

He yelped and jolted up to sit on his haunches, startled.

She laughed like a child.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, only half joking.

"Did you not like it?"

He joined her laughter. "I don't know. It was very...so very surprising."

She sat up, coy and joyous. "There is much about me that is surprising. Why don't you stay with me a while and I show you?"

He looked around. The sky was growing dark and the wind increasing. He noticed the smell of water about to fall from the sky. "I do not think you'd like to be under a storm..."

She brushed his hair behind his ears then playful tugged on them. "I know of a cave, nearby. I think it has wood in it, for a fire. We could stay there through the storm. I could send for food and drink.

"How?"

She raised a hand and one of the large white birds whispered down to stand on a rock, near them. She clicked her tongue in a series of odd sounds, then it flew away.

He watched her then watched it. "You're a witch."

"I am of the world, Caoimhín. I am one with the earth. And with the sky. And with the sea. And with the wind. I know the creatures of the air." Then she cast him a wicked grin. "And the creatures on the ground. And you...are one creature I would like to know more of."

"So I'm a beast to you?"

"We are all beasts. But you..." She traced her fingers down his arms, sensuous and loving. "You are more than this to me."

"More than your mate?"

"A thousand times more." Then she pulled him into a kiss before whispering, "Will you stay with me, tonight? In my cave? I will be there, with or without you."

He whispered back, "It would be wrong to leave you alone in the middle of a storm. Alone through a night in the wild."

"Will I become your duty?" she asked, toying.

"That, you could never be," he said, his voice low and filled with meaning.

She rose to her feet, adjusted her dress and whipped her cloak around her. "Then come. And bring the pelt. We will sleep on it."

He stood up, grabbing the pelt as he did so. "Perhaps I should stay in the storm. Let it wash some of the earth from me."

She ran her finders over his chest, where she had torn the tunic. Tickled the hairs. Her voice low. "I would rather you not."

"What do you want from me?"

"I have already gotten what I wanted. I have hopes you will give me more."

Then she kissed him and took him by the hand and led him down the hill.

 

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