Carwyn dove into the kiss with abandon. Her mouth parted and her burning tongue met his own. She clutched him closer, digging into his back as he shoved a knee between her legs, pulling her into his aching body. She was burning up. Anger? Desire? He didn’t care.
Her hands reached up to tug at his hair and he lifted her against the wall. He reached down to the curve of her hips, back, around to the soft swell of her bottom. His hands cupped, pressing the aching length of his arousal against her heat.
“Oh, God!” she cried out as he continued the assault with his lips. Tongue. His fangs ached in his jaw and he let the length of them run along the satin skin of her neck. A low rumble built in his chest as his amnis reached out to her, twining around her limbs, begging him to sink his fangs into her body and claim her.
Mine.
Not Murphy’s. His.
My mate. Mine.
Forget Murphy. He’d waited a thousand years for her and no one would love her as well as he would. Brigid was his.
He finally tore his mouth away and looked at her. She was panting. Her eyes were clouded with lust and her skin was steaming in the misty night air.
“Did you sleep with him?”
Her eyes cleared and blinked at him in confusion. Then righteous anger.
“What?”
Oh… He’d misread that one, hadn’t he?
He ducked away as Brigid swung at him.
“You ass! You think I slept with Murphy?” She shoved him back, her anger instantly killing his arousal, as he set her back on the ground.
Well, almost instantly.
She took a step forward and he backed away. “I didn’t even kiss him, you idiot! I was waiting for you! Where the hell have you been?”
“I’ve been in Wicklow. There’s been a bit going on, if you hadn’t heard.”
“I know that. You couldn’t even call?”
“You’re the one who sent me away in the first place! You wanted time; I was giving you time.”
“I’ve been back for three months.”
“Three months?” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Three months is nothing, Brigid.”
“It is to me,” she hissed. “Some of us aren’t a thousand years old.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, that much is obvious.”
“Are you implying that I’m being immature?” Her eyes narrowed. Carwyn had a feeling he needed to tread carefully.
“No… maybe a little? If you think about things from my perspective, you’re really quite young.”
Wrong thing to say. Why the hell were women so complicated? Brigid just looked more furious.
“Oh”—she stepped closer and Carwyn shrank back from the tiny bundle of mad—“so I’m just supposed to wait by the telephone until you decide to ring me? When was that going to be? A hundred years or so? And I’m supposed to put my life on hold while you’re off saving the world? How long were you in Wicklow? You couldn’t even tell me; I had to find out from my boss!”
Carwyn glued his lips together. He was fairly certain there were no right answers to those questions. Diversion tactics were necessary. He gathered his courage and lifted his hands to frame her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. She stopped in her tracks, looking confused.
“I’ve been in Wicklow for three months sorting through Ioan’s papers, and every minute, I wished I was with you,” he said softly. “That I could hold you and kiss you and hear your voice. I missed you, love. So much. But I knew you needed to settle in and get back to work. I didn’t want to interfere with that. And I’ve been focused on finding Ioan’s research because I think it’s important. I think there’s something very bad coming, and I’m hoping something he discovered might help stop it. I have to keep you safe. I couldn’t bear it if you were in danger.” He leaned down and whispered a kiss across her lips. “I couldn’t bear it. I have to keep you safe, Brigid. Forgive me?”
She melted under his words, and Carwyn pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she lifted her mouth for a kiss. Oh, she was a prickly one, his Brigid, but softhearted for him, and he wasn’t above using it. He knew she was in love with him. She just hadn’t let herself admit it yet.
Sweet woman. His sweet woman.
“Mmm,” he hummed into her mouth and lifted her again. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he leaned against the wall. “Oh, love…”
“Carwyn…” Her voice was a soft plea. “I missed you so much.” Her hands clung to him and her fingers twisted in the coarse hair that hung at the nape of his neck. She tugged at his scarf, searching for his skin.
“I missed you, too.”
Hot. She was so hot the night fog was steaming off her. He wanted to make love to her in the ocean, with the waves crashing and churning around them. He wanted to love her in the wild with the earth feeding his energy as he sank his fangs deep into her throat and thrust into her body. He wanted her forever. An eternal night lit by the glow of her fire.
“Brigid,” he breathed out as he thrilled at the feel of her lips on his neck, her fangs scraping his skin. “I want you… forever. Marry me, Brigid.”
She froze, her arms still wrapped around him, her hand buried in his collar. Slowly, she pulled away, tugging at his scarf as she slid down his body, still hard from his desire. She pulled and stepped. Pulled until the wool slipped over his shoulder, exposing the pure white band underneath his jacket. He swallowed once as she stepped away and leaned against the dirty wall, squeezing her eyes shut as her head fell.