The O'Madden: A Novella (The Celtic Legends Series) Read Online Free

Glenna had told her men took their pleasure and paid little mind to the pain it inflicts upon the woman. Glenna had told her that a man wouldn’t even notice the loss of her maidenhead— he’d roll over and snore when the thing was done.
    He said gently, “You should have told me, lass. I mistook your innocence for eagerness.” The finger continued down her jaw and over her neck. “You’ve a look as cool as ice, but you have a body as hot as fire. I couldn’t tell by looking at you that I was the first man you’ve lain with. Had I known, I would have been gentler.”
    “You’re . . . you’re not supposed to notice such things.”
    “ Only a fumbling young man or a drunk wouldn’t.”
    “You’re supposed to grunt and have the thing done with, with no care at all for the woman.”
    He pulled back a fraction. “Someone has been filling your mind with foolishness. Is that what happened here tonight?”
    “No.”
    The word slipped out before she could catch it. Well, there would be no hiding it, not while she lay under him with his body still locked in hers, warm and wet. She’d enjoyed the mating, obviously. She’d certainly waited for it long enough.
    She murmured, “Clearly, I chose well tonight.”
    A corner of his lips twitched, but curiosity lingered in those eyes. “I’ll take the compliment. But I still don’t know why.”
    The reasons whirled up a rush of quiet anguish. How she’d love to spill the secrets of her heart in the darkness. She had so few people to talk to about such things. She’d spent a lifetime guarding her troubles, searching for answers alone, with no one but Glenna to guide her. And tonight she felt like the Maeve of her dreams, the woman who had choices.
    But of all people who walked the earth, this man was the last one she could tell.
    He pressed two fingers to her mouth as she started to speak. “I see there’s a whole web of reasons, lass, I see them spinning in your pretty eyes.”
    She wondered why he would ask only to stop her.
    “ No half-truths,” he said. “Not now. Not after this. I’d rather leave it at silence than doubt what you say.”
    She tried to read the strange flicker of emotions passing across his face . It was almost as if he knew that her reasons would change things. She waited for him to say something more, breathless. An owl hooted from the woods. She waited as night creatures crackled through leaves.
    Finally, he said, “I know this much. You’re no Caer of the legend, doomed to change into a swan the morning after Samhain. You’re too hot-blooded for that.” He lowered his lips to hers. “Reason can wait until daylight.”
    He touched her again, but differently this time. He anointed her with every brush of his fingers. He christened he r with every teasing hot-lipped kiss. With wonder she ran her fingers under his tunic, on the bare tough flesh of his abdomen, through the light, crisp hair of his chest. A world opened to her and she learned greedily, eagerly, like the Caer of the legend he’d spoken about, forced to live a lifetime in an evening before the break of dawn turned her into a swan.
    Sheened with the breath of moonlight , Maeve threw away all sense. She opened her heart and her body to this gentle stranger.
    But time did pass . The moon slipped across the open sky, then sank behind the lace of the bare trees. Night dew settled on the grass like fairy’s breath then crystallized into a veil of frost. When Maeve finally blinked her eyes open, the first fingers of dawn had already curled up over the eastern horizon.
    The giant moaned in his sleep and shifted. In the pale blue light, she gazed upon him. For all the crookedness of his nose and the nicks that scarred his face, in sleep he looked as tousled and careless as a boy. She slipped out from under the edge of his cloak.
    Never before had she so hated the song of the lark.
    His voice rumbled from beneath the cloak. “Don’t wander far, lass.”
    She looked down into the