Tritus stepped forward, and there was no fear in his gaze as he grabbed hold of her hands. Cailleach saw the grimace that crossed his features, knew she was burning him with her icy touch, but still, he held on. And as she stood there, shocked at the revelations he’d made, he cemented them even further by leaning close to her, his breath a wave of warmth against her cheek.
“I love you,” he breathed softly as he looked into her eyes. And then again, louder this time. “I love you, Cailleach. These last six months should have shown you that I don’t just desire your body, but your soul. It’s you I want—all of you!”
His confession cut the cord of her power, the ice in her fingers vanishing as the tautness in her chest eased into a bloom of warmth. She blinked, coming back from the edge of her power. “I’ve been so…scared,” she breathed, still not quite believing what she’d just heard.
It was a confession she didn’t like to make. One that made her vulnerable, but it was a risk that she had to take—another test of his commitment and his emotions.
Tritus squeezed her hands and said softly, “I know Cal. I know.”
Cailleach looked into his rich, emerald eyes; knew he was waiting on her response. “I’ve been too scared to trust this,” she confessed, giving their hands a tug. “Too scared to trust us…and what I feel for you.”
“I know,” he said again, simply, letting her take her time, work through her thoughts.
“I…,” she hesitated.
“You don’t have to say it,” he said softly. “I know.”
Cailleach felt her heart swell. Given their internal bond, Tritus had probably always known that she didn’t want to be vulnerable. That she’d bucked against the chains of this prophecy since she’d first heard of it. But this prophecy had given her this man—no, not prophecy, her brother! Dagda had given her this man, her mate. A partner who was everything she needed, everything she desired.
And Tritus had waited for her, not just emotionally, but physically, too. Agreeing to her imposed initiation period. Never pushing, never demanding, letting her take the time to come to her own decisions.
The words couldn’t be contained then. “I love you,” she whispered in return. And as her heart soared with a release she’d only dreamed of, she added, “I think I’ve always loved you.”
His hands tightened, face darkening with an intensity that she’d never before witnessed. “Thank you for trusting me. For trusting us.”
His words were another layer of acceptance, another layer of truth, and she couldn’t help the cry that escaped her lips, or the fact that she was moving. Right into his arms.
Cailleach grabbed hold of his neck and tugged him down, slamming her lips over his. His own arms moved around her, drawing her tightly against his broad chest as his lips took over the kiss, dominating her with a passion that left her breathless. Cailleach felt swept away, all restraints on her emotions gone. She poured everything she felt into that kiss; felt his response meet hers in a mirror of that confession.
Then one of his hands lifted, sliding from her waist up to her breast, cupping and kneading. Cailleach felt the hard edge of his desire against her belly and met it with a shift of her hips, grinding her pelvis against his leg, telling him with her body what her heart desired. In reply, a groan rumbled from his chest, and his breathing became rough, his hand no longer gentle. His other hand moved from her back and shifted lower to cup her mound. She cried out, breaking their kiss and writhing at the exquisite pleasure that pierced through her body as his thumb pushed against the sensitive nub at the top of her entrance.
His green eyes were raging with fiery passion as her gaze locked on his. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me now, Cal.”
She could see what that pause cost him, could feel what it cost him. His shoulders and thighs were tense, the muscles in his neck corded with the strength to resist—not to plunder and take as he wanted. And she loved him for it, even more than she thought possible.
“No,” she whispered.
He froze, and his expression withdrew, shuttering closed in a wall of stone.
Realizing what she’d said and how he’d taken her response, Cailleach rushed to explain, “No, that’s not what I meant, Tritus! I want this—I don’t want you to stop!”
His eyes roved her face. “Are you sure?” he asked carefully.
Cailleach nodded and felt her body tremble as she asked, “Can’t you feel it in the bond we share?”
When he exhaled sharply, she knew he’d tapped into their inner connection—that fine gossamer thread that tied them to each other. He’d felt her desire, knew it was genuine. That she was burning up for him just as much as he was burning up for her.
“Don’t be afraid of it,” she whispered. “Trust it, Tritus. Trust us.”
Tritus needed no further encouragement, his hands tightening as he pulled her impossibly closer, claiming her mouth in yet another devastating kiss. And as his lips and tongue plundered her softness in a dominant demand, she responded by reaching for the rope around his pants, tugging the simple knot in silent behest. He shuddered, tearing his lips off hers, and ground out softly, “Do you want more, my lady?”
Cailleach nodded, her mouth suddenly bone-dry. “Yes,” she breathed.
His eyes glittered with triumph. “You first,” he taunted softly.
Her heart thundered in her chest. She knew this game, had witnessed it between her brother and his lover. Had seen the pleasure they’d given each other, had heard her siblings boast of what it felt like to give one’s body to another. Understanding this was a movement as old as the age of time, Cailleach forced herself to push the anxiety away and nodded her acceptance.
He let her go and stepped back, eyes not leaving her face. She held that gaze, her fingers trembling as she lifted both her hands away from her body, and with a simple thought, willed the dress to fall. It pooled at her feet in a swath of luxurious silk, her only remaining shield the thick braid of her moonlight hair as it ran over her left shoulder, covering her breast and the vee between her legs. She fought the urge to lift her other hand to shield her right breast. But when she watched Tritus lower his gaze and run it up and down her body, she saw what was in their depths, felt it confirmed tenfold through the internal bond they shared.
He desired her. Wanted her. Craved her.
His emotions were so intense; she wondered how he could withstand that and not act upon it. Another indication of the man he was; the level of respect and love he held for her. And she knew then that even though she’d said yes, he would still let her set the pace.
That revelation of the power she held over him was an awakening. Her stance became more confident, her voice husky as she flipped her braid over her shoulder, exposing her naked body to his attention. He stiffened, the bulge in his pants lengthening further. From their bond, Cailleach could feel his lust magnify, could taste it on her tongue.
“Your turn,” she demanded huskily, waving her hand at his clothing.
And, despite the tension that overrode his body, he gave her a slight tip of his lips, an acknowledgment of her feminine power. Not hesitating, his hands moved swift and sure as they ripped his jerkin over his head, exposing his broad, muscular chest.
Cailleach’s breath hitched at the sprinkling of coarse hair, at the muscles that were hewn into his torso as if chiseled there by an expert carver. Swallowing hard, she dragged her eyes back to his and urged, “More.”
His smoldering gaze never left hers as his hands went to the rope around his waist. In a swift tug, his pants fell to the detritus of the forest floor, freeing his groin from the confines of his clothing. Cailleach couldn’t help but drop her gaze, arrested by the sheer breadth of him.