Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

she needed release. She did not yet know what that was though, so she begged with incoherent words for something she could not name.
    To know he had this of her, this innocence. That he had the ability to introduce her to the ultimate pleasure for the very first time caused his cock to pulse with needs of its own.
    He shifted his head so he could swirl his stiffened tongue around her pleasure spot and he heard her turn her head into the bedding as she screamed into the furs.
    It did not take long from that moment to bring her to completion, but he did not stop in his ministrations to her and she broke. Writhing against him until a second climax overtook her and she screamed his name, the sound muffled by the furs she had stuffed into her mouth.
    He reared up on his knees between her thighs and touched himself, his stroke harsh and quick. When he erupted with his own orgasm, it took every bit of his self-control to keep his seed on his hand and not bathe her in it, marking Mairi as his.

Chapter 11

I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom; I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients.
    —G USTAVE C OURBET
    T he ride back to the Sinclair fortress took less than an hour, every moment both pleasure and torture for Eirik.
    By the time they were all assembled in the great hall again, this time without the twins and with Guaire, Eirik was in a piss-poor mood.
    Nevertheless, he stood beside Ciara’s chair, his hand resting on the high back, his expression daring anyone to make something of his choice of where to stand.
    Talorc gave him an amused smirk but said nothing. Abigail’s smile was much more innocent, though the look of worry she gave her adopted daughter did not sit well with Eirik’s dragon.
    There was no safer place for Ciara than with him and all assembled should realize that.
    Talorc leaned against the mantel of the empty fireplace, his stance deceptively relaxed. “You are in a better frame of mind to discuss whatever it was that had you worried yesterday?” he asked Ciara.
    She nodded. “I’m feeling much more myself.”
    The Sinclair inclined his head in a silent gesture of thanks toward Eirik. “That is very good to hear. Your mother and I have been concerned.”
    “I am sorry.”
    “There is nothing to apologize for. You are our daughter. It is our job to worry.”
    Just as it was Eirik’s job to be concerned for his people and now this clan he belonged to. That concern meant he needed answers about the Faolchú Chridhe .
    He had a hard time accepting that Ciara had said nothing to Talorc before this. Eirik’s dragon trusted her, but he was not sure this time his beast’s instincts were right.
    Despite the protectiveness he felt toward her and the intimacy of sharing her dreams the night before, Eirik was not certain he could trust her with the Éan’s safety like he trusted her adopted father.
    Ciara nodded, her green eyes glittering with worry. “I’ve been having dreams.”
    “I am aware.” The laird frowned. “If I could stop the nightmares, I would.”
    “They’re not all nightmares.” She flicked an unreadable glance toward Eirik.
    Though he could guess what she was thinking. Her visions of the Faolchú Chridhe were naught to do with him, but her dream self had as good as told him that her dreams were sometimes about Eirik.
    He got the impression she blamed him for the dreams, though they were hardly his fault. Still, that look had not been one of censure. He’d received plenty of those from her and knew intimately their expression.
    He frowned in thought and caught a glimmer of fear in her green gaze before she adroitly masked it. Her Chrechte talents were well developed, but he could still smell traces of her apprehension. It did not appear anyone else did, however.
    ’Twas odd, that, and why the fear?
    Because she was not an Éan and had learned somewhere along the way to fear her Chrechte strengths as much as she relied on them. She did not want him to know about thenature of her dreams about him, which meant they were no doubt of a nature to interest him.
    She would learn she could hide little from him, and nothing he set his mind to learn.
    “She has the sight,” Mairi interjected softly, innocently unaware of the sub currents between Eirik and Ciara.
    The Sinclair stared at his daughter, the clan chief clearly nonplussed. “Like when you dreamed about Abigail with the bairn?”
    Abigail reached out and