The Morrigan: Damaged Deities (19 page)

“God, Morrie, I don’t want tae stop,” he muttered against her neck, pressing another kiss at the base. 

And that’s when ancient instinct took over. 

Pulling free from his grip, Morrie sat up and turned around, facing Kade.  His dark eyes were hooded, his desire evident in his gaze.  Rising up on her knees, bubbles and water sloshed down her body, between her breasts. 

She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Then don’t.” 

Pulling him forward, Morrie brought those lips that teased her neck and shoulders onto her own. 

Soft and full, they pressed against hers for a second before his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her close.  His tongue teased her to open her mouth to him.  She parted her lips and his tongue invaded, dancing with her own.  The connection melted them together. 

He tasted of mint and whiskey, his tongue soft and insistent. 

Soaking his shirt with her body, the material scraped across her sensitive nipples.  Quickly unknotting his tie, she let it fall before freeing each button.  Her hands pushed the shirt open and against the velvet of his skin and the stone of his muscles she pressed her breasts, taking from him heat and earning from him a low, guttural growl. 

Groaning, Morrie drew closer and Kade’s tongue delved deeper.  His lips caressed hers and their tongues explored each other.  Her hand moved up to his hair while his slid down, cupping her butt cheek and kneading it. 

“Oh, God, Morrie,” Kade broke the kiss long enough to breathe before going deeper, pulling everything from her in that kiss. 

He stood up, bringing her to her feet.  The water splashed from the tub. 

Morrie’s wet body soaked Kade through, but he clung to her tighter, pressed her against his hard chest, pressed his erection into her center.  The vice of his arms around her waist drew her hips hard against him, arching her back. 

Desire spread like a raging grassfire sending them grabbing and holding each other tighter as their lips and tongues danced with fury.

The chime of the doorbell tried to stop them. 

His hand dropped to the back of her thigh and knowing what he wanted, she lifted her leg and hooked it around his hip.  She could feel his length at her tender flesh, the material of his pants rough and she moved her hips against it. 

Groaning deep, Kade grabbed the other leg and brought it up, letting her wrap them both around his waist as he cupped her ass in his hands. 

The second time the doorbell rang it succeeded, breaking the kiss with both gasping for breath as they held each other in a locked gaze.  The third time it rang, Kade closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

“I have tae answer that,” Kade said though he kept her pressed against him. “And murder the daft bastard.”  He sighed and smiled sheepishly. “It’s probably about the opening.”

“Okay,” Morrie breathed, still with her arms wrapped around him.  Slowly they pulled apart, Kade taking care to divert his eyes from her naked body. 

Suddenly cold without the heat of his touch, Morrie looked around and pulled a folded towel from a nearby bar. 

“Yer choice of dresses are in yer closet,” Kade said at the door, his back to her. “Everything ye should need for tonight.  We’ll need tae leave in an hour.”

“I’ll be ready,” Morrie answered, wrapping the towel around her.  But she wasn’t so sure she would be.

T
he door clicked shut behind him and Kade allowed himself a body-racking shiver. 

It had been an exercise in great strength and control to not look at Morrie’s wee, naked body.  He had imagined it so many times in his mind over the last few days that it felt like torture to deny himself the real thing.  But he knew if he had peeked just a little, he’d have come undone and there’d be no attending any openings. 

No leaving the hotel room for weeks. 

And Kade had made a promise to his brother.

“Fucking Kamden,” Kade grumbled as he stripped his wet shirt off and tossed it on a nearby chair while passing through the living room to the front door. 

Throwing it open, he answered with just a hardened look.

The hotel manager, Hamish, blinked up at him with trepidation. 

Immediately Kade felt bad for scaring the old man.

“Sorry, Hamish.  What do ye need?”

“I brought the list of important guests that will be at the event tonight,” he handed Kade a piece of paper. “And as the transportation has been arranged, may I ask what items you would like ready for you in the limo?”

“Hamish,” Kade waved while perusing the lists of guests, noting the mayor to be attending, “I trust all of that tae yer best judgment.”  He handed the list back to the man with a smile. “Surprise me.”

“And will the young lady staying with you be accompanying you to the event?”

“Aye, she will.”

“Does she require anything?”

“No, we’re good.  Now, be off with ye and let me get dressed.”

“Very well, sir,” Hamish bowed his head. “Your tuxedo is hanging in the wardrobe.  Should you need anything else, you have but to ring.”

Nodding, Kade ushered the gentleman out and said good-bye. 

The city lights of Edinburgh twinkled beyond the wall of windows before him. 

The last place Kade wanted to be was out in it, but he had an obligation—both to his brother and to seeing Morrie in a dress at his side. 

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

“It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.”

General Douglas MacArthur

“No’, where’s my kiss, goddess?” 

Chu Chulainn stood in the center of a pinwheel of bodies, all slain by his hand.  Sixty Fomorians lay dead at his feet, their lives snuffed out in a whirling craze of killing as the Celtic hero sliced his sword through the air and their flesh without breaking a sweat. 

He pushed a lock of long, black hair from his face, his blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight. 

Ripping a rag from a Fomorian’s tunic, he used it to wipe the blood off his sword before he sheathed it at his back. 

Hiking over the mounds of dead, he grinned and made his way to Morrigan. 

She sat atop a boulder, her arms and legs crossed, having watched his mad march to victory like an indifferent spectator though secretly she thrilled seeing him in action. 

“Ye claimed Ah coods nae slay aw sixty withit a scart.”  He dumped his great shield on the ground and grabbed her ankle, pulling her down.  Morrie slid along the smooth rock face until she was wedged between it and Chulainn. 

Pressed between a rock and a hard place, literally. 

His bulge straining against her stomach, she debated which was actually the rock. 

Chulainn removed his sheath and sword, laying it with care on top the discarded shield. “Care tae inspect me?”

“No,” she answered, her arms still crossed to keep them from reaching for him.  After months of waiting for the attention of the stoic hero, she finally earned some flicker of emotion from him.  She would not make the first move. “I believe you.”

“En where’s mah kiss?” he purred.  That arrogant grin never left his lips, accented by a single dimple.  She wondered how anyone could resist him.

“It’s your bounty,” she teased, “you claim it.”

The grin vanished and his pale eyes flashed with dangerous lust, predatory and uncontrollable. 

Gripping her hips, he lifted her up, knocking her crossed arms loose and bringing her face level with his.  With an almost angry force, he grabbed her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist, her calves crossing and resting on top of his muscular backside. 

One hand palmed her ass cheek firmly while the other wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her head immovable and forcing her to look at him. 

She was his plaything, and he played rough.

Chulainn had always taken what he wanted; it was what drew Morrigan’s attention to him.  And right now, he wanted to her.  Nothing she could do short of magic would stop him.

“Ah’ve waited tay long fur these lips,” he rumbled deep while his thumb brushed across her bottom lip. “Ye will deny me nae longer.”

His order issued, his lips crashed down upon hers, commanding her mouth and tongue with the same frenzy he met each battle.  Deep within her pooled need and passion. 

And in that kiss, Morrigan knew she’d been claimed.

In front of the bathroom mirror Morrie stared at her reddened lips, bruised by the brutal, passionate force of Kade’s kiss.  Steam from her shower fogged the reflection’s edges while the heat from her bath still weighed heavily on her. 

Though the kiss had aroused a great many feelings, it also recalled unbidden and long-buried memories of her hero lover—memories she hadn’t relived in ages.  No matter how she might inexplicably feel about Kade, she just couldn’t forget Chulainn. 

It wasn’t fair to Kade—Morrie would never move on from the Celt. 

She would have to make a more concerted effort to keep things strictly professional between them and stick to her original plan.  Though it might kill her to do so, she would have to ignore her baser needs. 

There could be nothing between them.

Turning away from the mirror, Morrie left the oppressive heat and past behind and instead sought out the wardrobe with the selection of dresses. 

Not that it meant much to the wealthy MacLeod, but it seemed no expense had been spared providing Morrie with a variety of options for her evening attire.  Label-less dresses in silk, satin and lace draped from cushioned hangers.  Sitting on the floor of the wardrobe were corresponding shoes. 

Morrie re-tucked the towel wrapped around her torso and began pulling each one out, a dress at a time.  The styles ranged from sophisticated and conservative to sexy and maybe a little slutty. 

In her old life, Morrie would have gone with whatever option covered her least—there were no such things as sluts and whores back then. 

People’s moral judgments focused on other things; sex and sexuality not being among them. 

As a goddess, she wouldn’t have cared anyway.  She loved the power her body wielded over men and used it whenever she could. 

Though Morrie had long evolved from that lusty goddess to a woman who viewed clothes as utilitarian, the deity still stirred within her spirit. 

Hands on her hips, she turned back to the wardrobe and bit her lower lip, thinking. 

With a deep, decided sigh, Morrie pushed aside the remaining hanging dresses, freeing the gown in brilliant red.  Made of brocaded lace, it had a nude lining so as to give off the impression that nothing lied beneath the lace. 

She flipped it over to discover the demure scoop neckline of the front belied the revealing back.  With straps that wrapped low around the shoulders and under the arm, connecting to the front, the dress was completely backless. 

Morrie had made her choice.

A
nother glass of wine was not going to calm Kade’s nerves, but that didn’t stop him from pouring it.  The night was upon them and the limo would be arriving soon. 

As much as he was expected to attend these events, Kade hated them nonetheless.  He’d always preferred action—working and toiling—to politicking.  He might have been better at public gatherings than his younger brother, but that didn’t mean Kade enjoyed them. 

Normally he’d have arrived early so as to get the whole thing over with and be on the next chopper home.  But tonight was different.