Page 5 of The Beast in the Loch (The Beasts #1)

His mouth closed on her breast, his tongue lathing the nipple, before turning to the other one.

She hadn't imagined it was possible to feel pleasure again so soon, or perhaps there was some kind of magic involved, because the heat was back, prickling her skin, making her gasp and writhe against him as if she had no will of her own.

Maire wanted to ask him what would become of her when he had granted her favour, but her thoughts scattered under his ministrations.

He pulled her against him, and his hand was between her legs, finding the source of her pleasure.

It wasn't enough; she wanted to feel his cock inside her.

When he didn't seem about to oblige, she grew impatient, and hooked her thigh over his hip.

For the first time she touched him. The rigid power of his manhood was hers now, and when she caressed his velvet skin, he groaned and pushed against her.

It was heady to have such a powerful creature enthral to her, Maire thought.

She was enjoying her sacrifice far more than she could ever have imagined.

This time when he entered her it felt as if he made her his in heart and soul as well as flesh. Or perhaps it was just that she wanted it to be so.

She must have slept for hours. When finally she woke she was beneath the covers, warm and comfortable, and she was alone.

It only took a slight movement for her to remember what had happened, because her body was aching in some unaccustomed places, but she was also reminded of the pleasure she had felt.

And then she thought: Where is Murchadh?

The window was shuttered but it was possible to see the daylight peeking through a crack here and there. Was it true then that the Knights could not abide daylight? Maire looked about her uneasily, wondering if she really was alone.

There was a neatly folded pile of clothing at the bottom of the bed and she went to investigate.

The white shift was of delicate linen, and to wear over it, a finely woven woollen shift, the same colour as her eyes.

Maire took them up and quickly dressed, knowing she would look well.

There was also a belt made of beaten gold, with the buckle shaped into one of the strange serpent's heads that were carved upon Murchadh's chair.

Soft slippers completed her outfit, and there was even an ivory comb to use on her hair.

Untangling it took some time, and when she was done, she left it loose about her shoulders. Like, she thought, the virgin she was no longer.

Memories of the night came back to her in a rush and she felt her cheeks burn. He had taken her many times, but he hadn't forced her. He did not need to, she recalled wryly. She had been more than willing.

When Maire reached for the door, just for a moment she feared it would be locked, that she was now a prisoner, but it opened easily to her touch.

She found herself standing and looking out over the great hall she remembered from her arrival yesterday.

Was it only yesterday? So much had happened, and none of it as she had expected.

She had not been gobbled up on a huge silver platter by the Knights, as she had once feared. Now the thoughts that had sent her quaking into Murchadh's presence made her smile.

Maire rested her hands upon the railing and looked down.

Around the walls, the torches continued to burn but some of the shadows had fled, and there was a smell of roasting meat.

Probably the castle staff were preparing for the evening meal.

Was that not when the Knights held their revels? She was rather looking forward to that.

"You are awake!"

The female voice made her jump. It came from behind her and when she turned she found herself facing a young girl, her long fair hair coiled upon her head in a braid, and her narrow figure clothed in a rosy coloured tunic with a silver belt, the buckle fashioned into the same strange beast as Maire's.

The girl's eyes were green, and her stare was curious, but when her gaze dropped to the gold belt about Maire's slender waist something less friendly appeared for a brief moment before a smile took its place.

"They said you were with Murchadh but I didn't believe it.

No one has come to Castle Samhanach for over a hundred years and Murchadh is so particular since .

. . well," her expression turned sly for a moment before she pouted at some memory that displeased her.

"He would not take me," she said. "Have you asked him for a favour? "

"Yes." Maire felt uncomfortable as the girl walked around her, examining her from all angles. "My village . . ." She began to explain about the Norsemen and what they had done, but she could tell that the girl wasn't listening.

"What is your name?" she interrupted. "I am Aela."

The name was unusual, so why should Maire suddenly find it familiar? "I am the Lady Maire. What are you doing here, Aela?" she asked curiously, at the same time searching her memory.

"I'm with Shay, or he's with me," she replied, and gave a little smug smile.

She tipped her head to the side. "Shay is the youngest and Cian is the middle brother, and Murchadh is the elder.

Murchadh is very old, but then so are you," she went on in a way that seemed disingenuous.

"I was fifteen when I came and I have never grown old.

The castle keeps us exactly the age we were when we came to it, but if we leave . . ." She pulled a face.

Maire was staring at her, because now she had realised why the name was familiar. Aela was the legendary girl from the village to the south, who had come to the Knights to ask for help for her village and never returned.

"But you must be over a hundred years old?" she whispered in wonder.

"I am," Aela said with a shrug.

"Why didn't you go home?" Maire asked her.

"Go home?" Aela widened her green eyes in amazement. "I did not wish to, and then . . . as time went on, I could not. If I stepped beyond the Knights' domain now I would become my true age. I would crumble to dust. I must stay, just as you will have to stay."

Maire could not hide her shock, and the girl must have seen it in her face because she reached out to stroke her arm.

"Oh, it is not such a hardship. You will grow used to it. And you have Murchadh," she went on thoughtfully, and again there was that jealous flash in her eyes.

"Where is Murchadh?" Maire asked.

Aela smoothed her silken skirts. "Don't you know?" she mocked. "Has he not told you yet?"

"Told me what?"

The girl leaned closer and now there was no doubting her enmity. "Murchadh stands above the other knights, and as his lady you will stand above me. You could become queen of Castle Samhanach. If you please him."

Maire stared. Useless to try to explain to the girl that she had no intention of standing above anyone. Perhaps after a century Aela no longer understood ordinary human emotions.

And then another thought occurred to her. "What happens if I displease Murchadh?"

Aela widened her eyes. "Perhaps I should not tell you. I wouldn't want to frighten you." She moved to turn away.

Maire reached for her hand, grabbing it and holding on tightly despite Aela's struggles. "Tell me!" she demanded.

"Ow, let me go," the girl complained. Then, making a great show of rubbing her wrist once Maire had released her, "Very well then but don't blame me if you don't like what you hear. Look at the castle servants. Look closely. I do hope you don't end up as one of them."

Maire didn't understand what she meant and would have asked more questions, but just then the old woman, Sibby, called up to them from the hall below.

Aela gave a guilty start.

"Lady," Sibby's gaze slid over the young woman's face and focussed on Maire. "You must come and eat. Our masters will be back when it is dark, and then there will be feasting, but that will not happen until the hour is late. Come with me to the kitchen."

Maire hurried down the stairs but Aela did not follow her.

As they moved toward the kitchen the old woman leaned closer and said, "What has Aela been saying to you, lady?

You should not listen to her or be taken in by her tricks.

She is a jealous one. I could have given her to Murchadh when she came to our gates but even then I knew she was not for him. "

"And I am?" Maire asked with a little choked laugh.

"He is my favourite and only the best will do for him."

Then she looked at Maire, her grey eyes sly. "Murchadh is happy with you. Do not do anything to change that, lady."

Maire took a breath. "Aela says that she has been here for a hundred years and if she leaves then she will die. Is that what will happen to me?"

Sibby waved a dismissive hand. "Time goes quickly. And you will have Murchadh to keep you company. What woman would not wish for that, eh?" Her chuckle was saucy.

In the kitchen a sheep roasted on a spit in front of the huge hearth.

A servant knelt nearby, a loose, hooded garment disguising their gender.

Sibby gestured for Maire to be seated upon a stool at a table, and then placed a bowl of porridge before her, adding creamy milk and sweet honey.

Maire had not realised how hungry she was until that moment.

The last mouthful from the meagre supply she had brought from the village had been eaten on the day she arrived at the castle.

Was it so short a time ago? It felt so much longer . . .

There was a burning smell, and clicking her tongue Sibby launched herself at the servant by the spit. "Turn it!" she ordered. "If I have to serve the Knights blackened meat tonight I will tell them whose fault it is."

The servant cringed away from her but did her bidding.

"What can I do to help you?" Maire asked, pushing away her empty bowl. "I cannot remain idle. I am used to being busy."