Seaborne (18 page)

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Authors: Katherine Irons

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Chick-Lit, #Mythology

BOOK: Seaborne
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“Better for you if I had,” he said. “Maybe better for both of us.”
“No, don’t say that.”
He embraced her as she showered his cool face with kisses. “I wanted to come,” he admitted, “but circumstances …”
“Don’t talk, just hold me.”
He kissed away her tears. “Don’t cry, Claire. I can’t stand it if you cry.”
“It’s just that I’m happy … so happy.”
He kissed her mouth, and she thrilled to the sweet sensation of his caress. She felt so safe in his arms, so loved.
“I was afraid that … after what happened?” she managed. “After my father came and Justin, and I told you to hide on the balcony, you might think that I was—”
He cut off her explanation with another lingering kiss, one that seared her lips and sent eddies of warmth washing through her body. Her pulse quickened and her nipples hardened into sensitive buds. “Shh,” he murmured.
“We’re divorced,” she said as a heavy-limbed aching made her all-too aware that he was naked under the light covering. “Justin and I haven’t …”
“To Hades with him. I don’t care about him.”
She gasped as Morgan slipped a hand under her pajama top, gently cupped her breast, and teased her nipple with the base of his thumb. “Haven’t seen him in a long time,” she finished.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about Dustin.”
“Justin,” she corrected.
“Dustin … Justin.” He unbuttoned her top and kissed her breast.
Was it her imagination or were his lips warmer? Heat flashed under her skin, and heady excitement washed over her as she pressed herself even closer. “Morgan, Morgan,” she gasped. He drew her nipple between his lips and suckled until she cried out with pleasure. In some crazy way, their lovemaking seemed to make him stronger.
“How did you find me? How did you get here?”
“Later,” she said, ripping open the last button on her top and sending it flying against the wall. She closed her eyes as he laved her nipples and drew them deep into his hot mouth. The sensation was unbelievably and excruciatingly wonderful, and she could feel the tugging of connecting silken cords deep in her woman’s cleft.
Vaguely, she was aware of flickering lights set into niches in the stone, illuminating the moss bed in a faint yellow glow, as she lifted her other breast for him to kiss and lick and suckle.
The drums still sounded in the mist, primeval, sensual, striking a chord deep inside her, pulling her back and back to another age. Around them, the thick curtain of swirling mist gave an illusion of privacy. The moss was soft, the heat of Morgan’s mouth, the feel of his hands and tongue on her body intoxicating.
This was right. She knew it. With each kiss he grew stronger.
Growing desire made her bold. Her breath came in quick, sharp gasps as she trailed damp, warm kisses over his throat and chest, using her teeth to nip his skin, her lips to caress him. He tasted of salt and sea and virile male.
This was her dream. There could be no shame in a dream, could there? His hands were everywhere, moving over her, stroking, caressing. And every spot that he touched fueled the need inside her. The fluttering sensation that would not let her be still became an incandescent drive. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her need became a hunger.
She pushed away the fur covering and slid her hand lower, stroking and exploring, teasing, feeling his growing need for her. Suddenly, she wanted to please him, to give him the gift that he’d bestowed on her in that other cave, soon after they met. Tendrils of hair fell forward over her face as she inclined her head and pressed damp kisses down the swollen length of his phallus.
Morgan groaned, and the sound of his desire added to her own growing need. All too aware of the throbbing heat between her damp thighs, she used her tongue to moisten the head of his shaft before drawing it between her lips.
He arched and moaned. His fingers sunk into her flesh as his arousal whipped into a white hot flame that arced between them.
Laughing, he grasped her hips and lifted her on top, so that she sat astride him, clasping him with her thighs and rubbing her wet and swollen sex against his tumescent shaft. “Enough of that,” he gasped. “Any more and I’d not be able to …”
She laughed. “Love me, Morgan. I want to feel you inside me.”
A few minutes ago, he’d looked like death. Now he was whole and strong again.
He groaned. “Do you know what you’re doing, Claire? Do you have any idea how wrong this is?”
“It’s not wrong,” she whispered hoarsely. “How can it be wrong? It’s making you better.” Damp heat glistened on her skin. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in quick, hard gasps. “I love you.”
“You don’t understand,” he protested, rolling her over onto her back. “I’m not who you think I am. It’s a lot more complicated.”
She looked into his heavy-lidded eyes, so blue, so beautiful, eyes so deep and full of desire she could drown in them. “Are you married?” she asked.
“No. Hades, no. I’ve never been married.”
“Gay?”
He laughed and guided her hand to his throbbing erection. “What do you think, Claire? Am I?”
“Hell, no.” She gasped, raised her hips, and clasped him to her. “I want you to live, Morgan. More than anything, I want you to be well and safe.”
CHAPTER 18
A
s Morgan plunged deep inside her, Claire arched her body, wanting every inch of him, wanting them to become one being. Immediately, an intense orgasm, lasting longer than any she’d ever felt, rocked her body. Rainbow tremors radiated out to every cell in her body, falling like so many shooting stars, causing her to cry out with joy as she felt him fill her again and again.
Despite Morgan’s size and power, there was no pain, only greater pleasure, and she clung to him, urging him on. She lost all track of time, but twice more, waves of exquisite sensations swept over her before Morgan groaned and she felt the hot rush of his seed fill her womb.
For the space of half a heartbeat, it occurred to her that neither of them had used protection, a risk that she’d never taken in her life. But then she remembered that this was only a dream, and any danger imaginary. Those passing thoughts lingered for only seconds before they vanished in the aftermath of sweet satisfaction. Laughing, they clung together, kissing and touching, pressing damp skin against skin, hearing the quick, deep rasp of each other’s breathing and the pounding of two hearts as one.
“Claire,” he murmured. “My Claire.”
He kissed her mouth, her face, her throat. His strong fingers caressed her shoulders and spine. He nibbled and nuzzled the back of her neck down to the hollow of her back. And all the while, he murmured sweet words of love. At least, she thought they must be. It wasn’t Greek that he spoke to her. She wasn’t certain what language he was uttering, but she didn’t need a translation to understand what he was saying.
Morgan stroked and fondled her buttocks and her thighs, planting warm damp kisses on the backs of her knees and making her laugh. He caressed her calves and ankles, massaging and rubbing her feet, treating her as if she were a precious gift. Claire had never felt so desirable, so loved, or so beautiful.
But then caution intervened and she said, “We didn’t … I’m not on birth control and you didn’t wear a—”
“Don’t worry,” he soothed. “I swear to you on my mother’s soul that I’m free of disease.”
“But …”
“Shhh.” He kissed her mouth, teasing her bottom lip with his tongue, catching it between his lips, and sucking gently, until the warm sensations stirred in the pit of her stomach again.
She opened her eyes and looked full into his face. He’d changed, she realized. In the space of their lovemaking, however long they’d been at it, he had made a full recovery. Better than full, she thought as her heart skipped a beat and then gathered speed. Surely, she’d been wrong. The light had deceived her. He wasn’t ill, wasn’t old. He couldn’t be above his mid-twenties. The gray pallor was gone from his face, and his eyes flashed with life … with desire.
“This is a dream, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Do you want it to be a dream?” He pulled her against his naked body, cradling her, kissing her hair, and wrapping his strong, muscular arms around her, making her feel safe. She laid her head on his shoulder and let the high sweet sound of a flute wash away her fears and worries.
When had the Indian drums become the haunting refrain of a primitive flute? She didn’t know, didn’t care. All that mattered was Morgan, being here in his arms, knowing at last the joy of fully making love to him … of being loved.
Her eyelids felt heavy, but she fought the urge to close them. These moments were too perfect. If she drifted off to sleep, she might wake in her own bed, might never find her way to this dream again. If she slept, she might wake in a wheelchair, imprisoned in her own body.
“If we did make a child, I’d claim it as my own,” he whispered into her ear.
“Our own,” she corrected him. What was she thinking? Not even a dream was powerful enough to make her a mother. Her shattered body could never conceive a baby. Despite what she’d thought she’d felt when Morgan had ejaculated inside her, she no longer had a womb or ovaries. The accident had claimed her ability to ever be a biological mother.
Pain, sharp as a sliver of broken glass, pierced her heart. Her own mother had given her up at birth and any hope of ever carrying a child was a fool’s dream. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
Morgan kissed them away, one after another. “Don’t cry, my darling,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted a baby … so badly. When I was younger … when Justin and I …” She choked back a sob. “I had a husband once. I could have been a mother, but I wasn’t ready. There were other things more important … horse shows … trips … parties. I let the precious time slip away, and now it’s too late.”
“Why is it too late?”
“I’m crippled. Can’t you see? I can’t walk? Can’t care for myself. How could I care for a child?”
He rolled onto his back and pulled her with him, lazily running a hand over the hollow of her back and cupping one cheek in his big hand. “These legs are perfect, aren’t they? These hips? These feet?” He rubbed the arch of one bare foot, then massaged it with strong fingers. “Not much good for swimming, I’ll admit, but very pretty.”
She laughed as he tickled the sole. “Be serious.”
“Why?” He bent and kissed the toes on the foot he’d been caressing.
“Morgan!” Still chuckling, she pulled her foot free. “Men don’t do that for real. Only in romance novels.”
“No?” He shot her a long, sexy stare that made her shiver inside.
“You don’t understand.” She was suddenly babbling, more to herself than to him. “None of this is real. You’re not real. I made you up, and when I open my eyes again, you’ll be gone.”
His chest rumbled with amusement. “You made me up?”
“Yes.” She nodded vigorously.
“And Alex, did you make him up as well?”
“Alex?” Was this a joke? She peered at him suspiciously. “Who is Alex?”
“My brother. He brought you here. Surely you haven’t forgotten Alexandros. He’s a little hard to miss.”
She pushed him back against the bed of moss, brought her knees up and sat astride him. “You mean the superhero? The blond Adonis?”
Morgan rose up lazily on one elbow and used his tongue to tease her right nipple. She shuddered with pleasure and closed her eyes, savoring the ripples of desire that tugged at her most secret places.
“Adonis?” he murmured huskily as he cupped her breast in one hand. “He’ll like that. Although he might prefer Achilles. He’s a bit bloodthirsty, my baby brother.”
“I dreamed him up as well,” she said, offering him her other breast to be pleasured. “He’s no more real than you are.”
She was wet for him again, wet and hot. She couldn’t remain still and she moved seductively against his growing sex.
“You’re insatiable, woman.” Morgan’s breathing quickened as his hands claimed her body.
“Am I?” She was ready for him again, and wanted to feel his raw power. Wanted him hard and fast and deep. Wanted him …
And once again, her dream lover fulfilled her every fantasy and invented a few of his own.
“Please, Athena, you must help her,” Korinna cried out. “She’s dying.” Deep in the labyrinth beneath the Temple of Healing, the high queen of Atlantis rushed into the secret chamber, cradling a small limp figure against her breasts.
Startled by the queen’s appearance and her desperate plea, Athena rose from where she’d been kneeling by an ancient freshwater spring. She scattered the remaining stardust in her hands on the bubbling water and quickly finished her prayer before turning her attention to her friend. Athena’s dark eyes widened in surprise as Korinna moved into the light, and she could make out what Korinna was holding.
“A human child? Here?” Athena hurried across the polished crystalline floor of the sanctuary to meet them. Access to this section of the temple was strictly limited to priestesses of higher degrees than Korinna possessed, but she was, after all, high queen and Poseidon’s favorite. Doubtless, someone had allowed her to pass, and that someone would have to answer for it. Athena glanced back at the spring. All seemed as it was, so the spirits were not angry. Relieved, she met Korinna’s anxious gaze. “Tell me,” she said with quiet concern. “What do you do with a human child here?”
“Not human. Not anymore.” Korinna held the child out to Athena. “My so—The one who rescued her,” she quickly corrected, “did all that was necessary, but the little one isn’t strong enough to complete the successful transformation without assistance.”
Athena touched a lock of the girl’s blond hair and felt a rush of pity for this lost one. Always, she’d felt compassion for all young things, fish, or bird, or mammal … even land walkers. “You want me to make her an Atlantean?”
The queen nodded. “It has been done before. You know it has. There are legends—”
“Legends are not always true.” She stroked the girl’s arm. She was cold, so cold. “It is an irrevocable decision, one not made easily.”
“But not on your conscience,” Korinna said. “Another began the process. He breathed life into her drowned human body, but their young ones are so fragile. And most swim like stones.”
“That can’t be disputed. As intriguing as they are, those who have abandoned their mother the sea are helpless in the water.”
“I didn’t know who else to ask. You’re a powerful priestess of the Light. You can give her life.”
Athena sighed. “And explain to the council why I did so, I suppose.” She held out her arms and the queen passed the child to her. How little she weighed. Her throat constricted. How could she refuse her friend’s request? If they waited for official approval, it would be too late. The girl’s grip on life was fading fast. It might be futile to attempt to save her, even now.
“Please,” Korinna whispered.
Athena retraced her steps to the side of the holy pool and sat on a marble bench. Sparkles of stardust glittered on the floor like so many electric jewel fish. “Are we doing the right thing, I wonder?”
From the depths of the spring came a murmur of sound, not quite speech, more song, but not uttered in any language that still existed on the planet. The sound was sweet, peaceful … approving.
“Yes,” Athena answered. “I ask your permission and your blessing for this act of mercy.” She listened for an answer and it seemed to her that she heard the word “
Dan-oo
.”
A life size stone figure of Danu, mother earth goddess of Eire, one Athena had seen centuries ago on the seabed rose in her mind and she smiled. Washed and worn by eons of waves, toppled by men, Danu’s features had retained a gentle grace and haunting beauty.
“Yes,” Athena agreed, “yes, I will.” She glanced back at the queen and Korinna’s face went pale. “It’s all right,” Athena assured her. “They approve. And they have instructed me to give her a new name to begin her new life.”
She bent over the child and kissed her lips, breathing into her tiny mouth. “May you live and grow strong,” she whispered. “Be no more of the earth, little Danu, be a child of the sea.”
For what seemed a long time, there was no change in the girl. But then, her features blurred and shifted. Her starfish hands opened and closed, and her long, dark lashes fluttered and then opened wide. She stared into Athena’s face with bright, curious eyes, green and clear as polished emeralds.
“Welcome, precious,” Athena said. She smiled down at the child.
“Mommy?” Confusion flickered in her gaze. “Mommy?”
Athena leaned down and kissed the little girl’s forehead. “No, sweet one. I’m not your mother, but I’m sure she’ll come for you soon.”
Danu blinked. “I didn’t catch the duck.”
Athena shook her head. “They fly, don’t they? But we have other wonderful things for you to see and play with. Have you ever held a baby starfish?”
The little girl shook her head, and Athena saw how tangled her golden locks had become. “I think someone needs to brush your hair.”
“I’m hungry.”
Athena laughed. “Children usually are.” She motioned to Korinna. “This is a good friend of mine, a very nice lady.”
“Will she take me to Mommy?” Danu slid off Athena’s lap and swam toward the queen. “Hello. I’m …” She paused, as if trying to remember. “I’m four.”
Korinna knelt down and caught the child in her arms. “Yes, you are four. And your name is Danu.
Dan-oo.
Can you say it?”
She giggled. “Danu. I’m Danu and I’m four.”
“And I’m Queen Korinna, and I’m a lot older than four.”
Danu giggled again. “Where’s your queen hat?”
“In a safe place. I don’t wear it unless it’s a very important day. It’s heavy and it makes my head itch.”
The child’s arms went around Korinna’s neck. “Is my daddy here?”
“Not right now, but he’ll be here soon,” Korinna said. “And I’ll tell you a secret. Can you keep a secret?”
Danu nodded solemnly.
She leaned and whispered in the girl’s ear. “Your daddy is my little boy. That means I’m your grandmother, but we can’t tell.” She hugged Danu tightly. “You can call me—”

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