The Dragon Bard (Dragon of the Island) (38 page)

“This.” She drew close to him and slid her hands down to his buttocks, stroking and squeezing him there, cupping his flesh in her long, elegant fingers.

“By the gods,” he gasped.

“Every part of you is fascinating to me. I’ve never had a chance to do this with a man before.”

“Hmmm.” He could no longer speak. The sheer eroticism of her touch was driving him to madness.

“You’re so different than me. Your body is much harder than mine. And hairier.”

“Aye, I am harder,” he ground out. “Especially in one certain area.”

“Oh.” She widened her eyes in mock innocence. “I can’t think what you mean.”

He could take no more. Grabbing her tormenting, teasing fingers, he placed them on his cock. “Here. This is where I’m especially hard.”

“Aye.” Her voice was a husky whisper. “You’re like a steel blade, but overlaid with soft, silky flesh.”

Her touch was much too gentle. He felt he would burst apart at any moment. He pulled her hand away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking confused.

“Someday I’ll teach how to pleasure me like that. But at this moment, all your caressing and fondling makes me want only one thing—to be sheathed in your sweet, silken flesh.”

She nodded. “Aye. It makes me want that, too.”

“I warn you, I doubt I can be gentle. I’m too aroused.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

Looking into her eyes, he believed her. She was no fragile, delicate maid, but a strong, capable warrior woman. Even so, he wanted to make certain she was ready.

She lay down on the makeshift bed. He knelt near her feet, then grasped her thighs and slid them apart. Eyes closed, she gave a soft moan of anticipation. Leaning down, he placed his mouth on the delicate petal-like flesh of her womanhood. She gave a shriek of delight. He held her thighs and suckled and kissed and licked until she was moaning wildly. Then he raised himself over her and thrust deep.

She’d thought she could feel no more pleasure than what he’d given her earlier. But this time her peak came in deep, heaving waves, submerging her in a torrent of vivid, blinding sensation. Yet even as she slowly glided down, he thrust deeper and her body responded, the delicious tension building once again. Higher and higher she soared until she crashed in a glorious, swirling, starlit release.

Bridei reached his peak, his body exploding with vivid, overwhelming sensation. He collapsed on Dessia and buried his face in the heavy silk of her hair. A few moments later, as he raised himself off of her, he realized they were surrounded by vivid green vegetation. “Dessia. Look,” he whispered.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him with a lazy smile. Then she looked around and realized what had happened. “How . . .?” She sat up, appearing as stunned as he was. Then she burst out laughing. “I knew your lovemaking was magical, but I never dreamed you could do this.”

“’Twas not me,” he said. “It must be the Goddess.”

She stroked his hair, her eyes glowing. “You’re like Belenos, god of sun and fire. With your passion, you’ve brought summer to this place.”

“I don’t know how it happened, but I wish to thank whatever force or being transformed this place.” He lay back down again, and Dessia nestled against his chest. The lassitude of utter satisfaction crept over him.

He fell asleep and dreamed of summer. The sun was high in the sky, the air warm and fragrant with growing things. After a time, he woke and realized it was night. He found Dessia’s cloak and draped it over them. When he woke again, it was growing light. He stood and stretched, then went off to relieve himself.

Dessia was still asleep when he returned. He’d covered her up to keep her warm, but as she’d slept, the cloak had fallen away. The sight of her nakedness aroused him, and he wondered whether he could coax her into making love again. He sprawled down beside her and began to play with her breasts. As he fondled one of her nipples, he noticed her breasts seemed more voluptuous than he remembered, the nipples a deeper rose. Perhaps it was this place, he mused. As the landscape ripened into the abundance of summer, perhaps it had affected them as well, heightening his virility and her womanliness. His hand stilled as he had another thought. Perhaps the change in Dessia appearance wasn’t caused by magic, but by something simpler and more mundane. What if she were pregnant?

He gazed at her, his thoughts racing. Everything fit together: her ailing stomach, her fatigue, her fuller breasts. Even her amazing responsiveness.

Dessia stirred and opened her eyes. “Hmmm. I had such a beautiful dream.” She reached out, grasped his hand and brought it to her breast. “Keep touching me,” she said.

Bridei’s arousal, so intense a few moments before, had ebbed. Dessia must have sensed something was wrong for she let go of his hand and said, “I guess that was part of my dream.”

“Nay. It wasn’t a dream . . . it’s merely that . . .” He must find out if his suspicions were true. Touching her hair, he said, “Dessia. I must ask you something. Have you had your courses since the night we lay together?”

“My courses?” She shook her head. “I was worried they’d come when I was imprisoned, and I dreaded having to ask Druim for some cloths. But nothing happened, and I decided my distress had kept me from bleeding.”

“Before we made love—how long had it been since your last one?”

Dessia shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps a fortnight or a little less.”

Bridei felt breathless. A wise woman had once told him that if he wished to avoid impregnating a woman, he should be careful to only sleep with her while she was having her courses, or the first few days afterwards. By the time a week had passed, the likelihood she would conceive became substantial.

“What’s wrong?” Dessia asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He took a deep breath, wondering if saying it aloud would make it more real. “It’s early yet. But even so, I’m fairly certain you’re pregnant.”

She stared at him. “Why do you think this?”

“You have all the signs.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your ailing belly.” Bridei gestured. “Your breasts seem fuller, and I suspect they’re tender as well. Perhaps that’s even why they’re so sensitive.”

Her eyes widened, then she grabbed her gown, stood and pulled it over her head. She began to pace beside him. “Oh! How could I be such a fool? I never thought . . .”

He got to his feet and took her arm. “I’m sorry, Dessia. It’s my fault. There are ways to prevent pregnancy. I failed to use any of them.”

She looked at him glumly. “What do you mean? What could we have done?”

“I usually carry sheathes made from animal gut, but they’re back in Britain with my harp and other possessions. And there’s another simpler method. A man can withdraw before he reaches his peak and thus avoid spilling his seed inside the woman. That’s what I should have done with you, but . . .” He smiled ruefully. “I was far too carried away to think of such things.”

“We both were. But . . . oh, my . . . I never thought . . . never even considered this.” She drew away and began to pace again.

His heart went out to her. Motherhood altered any woman’s life. But for a queen, especially one facing her current situation, it must seem overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I had the knowledge to prevent this and I failed to use it.”

Her voice was anguished. “You can’t take all the blame. I know how babes are conceived. ‘Twas witless of me to not consider the possibility.”

“But you were a virgin and unused to worrying about such things. As experienced as I am, I should have known better.”

She stopped pacing and looked at him, her expression uncertain. “Do you regret it so much?”

He hesitated a moment, then caught her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers. “If I’m to have a child, you’re the woman I would wish to be its mother. I didn’t plan this, but I can’t truly regret it either.”

She nodded, her eyes a misty green. “I feel the same, but . . . oh . . .” Her expression turned anxious again.

He knew exactly what she was thinking. The idea that she was carrying his child filled him with wonder and excitement, but also, terror. He hardly knew how he was going to protect
her
, let alone a child. “It does complicate things,” he agreed. “Even before this happened, I worried for you. But now . . .” He gave her a weak smile. “Now I’m paralyzed with dread for you.”

Seeing the dazed expression on Bridei’s face, Dessia wanted to tell him that this changed nothing, that she could still do everything she always had. But she knew it wasn’t true. She was now responsible for another life besides her own. The idea stunned her.

Bridei pulled her into his arms. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to keep you safe.” His tender concern touched her, yet failed to ease her anxiety. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable and afraid since she was a child. He stroked her hair. “There’s no other solution. We’ll have to go somewhere else, at least until you have the babe.”

“Where? Ath Cliath?”

“It would be far too easy for O’Bannon to pursue us there. Nay, I think we must travel to a place where he couldn’t follow, even if he wished to do so.”

“Where are you thinking of?”

“We’ll hire a boat in Ath Cliath to take us to my father’s household in Gwynedd.”

Dessia drew away from him. “But I thought . . . you’ve always spoken so coldly of your father. Are you certain we’d be welcome there?”

The familiar haunted look darkened his features. “
I
may not be welcome there, but he won’t turn
you
away. Even if he should wish to do so, my mother wouldn’t let him.”

He took her hands in his. “You’ll be safe there, I promise. My mother is skilled in the healing arts and knows all about having babies. And no one will attack my father’s fortress, I can assure you of that.”

“But what about Cahermara? What about my people? I can’t abandon them!” As the implications of what he suggested sank in, she felt a growing anguish. She’d fought so hard, struggled for so long and come so close to realizing her dream. Now it was all crumbling before her eyes.

“There’s no reason you couldn’t come back here someday and reclaim your kingdom.”

“How long is ‘someday’? How long do you think my people will wait for me? They’ve left Cahermara and scattered to the hills. Even if I began tomorrow to try and coax them back, it would be difficult. But if I wait . . .” she hesitated. “We’re probably talking at least a year, and likely longer. By then they’ll have forgotten me.”

“I don’t believe that. They rallied behind you all those years ago, when you were still a child. Now you’re a woman grown and a proven warrior. They won’t forget you. I don’t believe that for a moment.”

Dessia looked down at her body. Except for her slightly swollen breasts, she looked no different. Her stomach was still flat. Her muscles strong. It would be months before it was obvious she was pregnant, and even longer before she grew so big and ungainly that she couldn’t fight. “Nay,” she said, “I won’t go to Gwynedd. Not yet. I still have some time to gather together my people and make a stand against O’Bannon.”

“It’s not safe. What if O’Bannon captures you and discovers you’re pregnant? He’ll kill you and our child.”

Dessia raised her chin stubbornly. “Then he mustn’t capture me. I have to succeed in this. If I don’t, I won’t want to live anyway.”

“And what of our child? Do you think you have the right to choose whether it lives or dies?”

 He looked angry, which she wasn’t used to. A flare of resentment rose inside her. She faced him stubbornly. “For now, the babe is part of my body and couldn’t survive without me. That gives me the right to make decisions regarding its future.”

His eyes flashed. “It’s my child as well as yours. I won’t let you throw its life away!”

“You think that’s what I’m doing? You have so little faith in me that you’re convinced I’m doomed to failure?” As her anger and frustration increased, she suddenly felt dizzy and nauseated. She moved away from him, leaned over and began to retch.

There was nothing in her stomach to bring up. She finally straightened and wiped her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears. How could she have let this happen? She’d given in to one night of passion. Now all her dreams were shattered. She felt the tears course down her cheeks.

Bridei touched her shoulder. “You should eat something. I’ll fetch the food.”

She turned to look at him. How did he always seem to know what she needed? “Have you ever been in this situation before?” she asked.

He raised his brows. “You mean . . .” His gaze went to her belly.

She nodded.

“I’ve never gotten a woman with child before, at least not that I know of. But I have five younger brothers and sisters, and in addition to my mother, I’ve been around a number of pregnant women in my life.” He grinned. “I’ve even bedded a few.”

“You mean . . . they were carrying other man’s child, and you . . .?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes the father wasn’t around. Other times . . . well, some men are put off by the changes in a woman’s body.”

“But it doesn’t bother you?”