The Heartbreak Show (Bound By Ravens #3)

29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Glenna Lonan-Merrick

The gobshite won our bet.

And not just by a little either. His designated pot for gold cock boot overflowed with coins, jewels, and other tradeable trinkets.

The memory of the smug curve of his flirty smile pooled liquid heat in my core all over again.

My primal state right now was, annoyingly, turned on by every mundane thing he did, too. The way his lips closed over a spoon while eating? My pulse blushed. When bending over to pick up firewood? I struggled to breathe. The easy stride of his walk, the slight tilt to his head when listening to another talk, the goading flash of his eyes as we ambled back to camp? I could push him up against a wall and take him before removing all our clothes.

Gods, I was so stars damned pissed that I lost.

But I also wasn’t, not when so many benefited from Cian’s win.

The entire tribe lifted a cheer at the wealth Cian dumped onto my kitchen worktable. Musicians struck up their instruments soon after and we’d been celebrating ever since, passing around wine and whiskey, removing our shoes and dancing with abandon. A true faerie revel.

That poor beastie of his, though, the one that gave us plenty, needed a sudsy bath and massaging brush down. It was the least we could do.

Glas Gaibhnenn was still in the storage wagon, locked up. Though reunited with Cian, she remained in a spelled taxidermized-like state so long as the new hat, boots, and garter, to replace the charred ones, didn’t touch her.

My nose wrinkled.

The Crone had horrible fashion taste. Why a Wishing Tree garter ribbon, hideous red boots, and a tacky arse Lughnasadh’s Day hat on a milking cow to reanimate her when Cian was present? The poor lad, and George, would be lamenting her fashion challenged getup all their days.

Unless the Crone changed her mind.

But I doubted she would. If I were honest, it was also pretty funny.

Cian surmised the Crone turned his cow into a witch’s ornament while hidden by Ravenna—no grain or land was needed to keep her alive this way. But, regardless of if Glas Gaibhnenn was reanimated or spelled, her magic pulsed. She was too powerful.

The lads would begin building a small barn and fenced in corral for her tomorrow, for the other livestock we could now buy too.

Filena hadn’t spellcrafted an object yet but, as a cailleach , she had powers from the Crone. Once Cian’s cow could safely be returned to her natural state, Filena would attempt transmutating a normal lead rope into one with protection spells, to ensure the faerie cow couldn’t be stolen—again.

Speaking of my witchy sister, Filena sighed and leaned her head against my shoulder.

Across the fire, Cian, who was still wearing my skirt and fraying corset from tonight’s show, danced with Owen and Corbin, the three of them laughing at each other’s antics. The song changed a measure later and Cian let go of Owen’s and Corbin’s hands to grab Rhylen’s and pulled my brother into a slow dance.

“Look at those eejits,” Filena murmured with a yawn. “They’re half-drunk with happiness.”

Cian, with his back to Corbin, playfully kicked Corbin in the arse, knocking him into Owen’s arms.

Filena yawned again.

I suspected why Filena drooped against me. I should be tired for the same reason. Stars, I barely slept last night. I was a little sore today too and, yet, I was ready to drag Cian into the woods and make him moan all over again.

Except, I lost our final bet.

I cringed just thinking about it.

As if reading my thoughts, Cian peered my way and . . . I knew that heated look. A jolt of excitement shivered down my traitorous body.

Whispering into Rhylen’s ear, my brother nodded his head, then my mate broke away and strode toward me in a swish of skirts, the muscles of his arms and shoulders painted in firelight.

He was so pretty, I sighed.

Filena snickered.

I poked her in the side. “Go back to sleep,” I teased.

Cian slowed before us and I lifted a brow.

“Sister dear”—he crouched before her and brushed a strand of hair from her face—“need me to walk you to your wagon?”

Filena pushed up from my shoulder and shook her head. “Rhylen will leave the revel too early.”

My brother was now guiding Gran in a slow dance beside Owen and Corbin, next to Sean and Braelin.

Plucking Sheila from her pocket, Filena snuggled her wee hedgehog against her cheek. Lloyd rolled over in her lap with a twitch of his tail, his little feet up. Smiling, she reassured her brother with a quiet, “I’ll manage.”

Cian stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’m stealing your pillow.”

He then tugged me off the log and pulled me into a slow dance away from listening ears. I happily fell into his arms, the ones circling me and holding me close.

Cian buried his face in my hair as we swayed to the music. “I ache for you, Glennie Mer.”

“It’s terrible to want.”

He quietly laughed, a low, gravelly sound. “I want your back arching when I touch you,” he murmured into my ear and my eyes fluttered closed. Stars, the erotic things that came out of that man’s mouth. Just one sentence, one spoken confession and I was already growing listless. “I want your legs wrapped around me,” he continued. “I want your mouth to send me to the Otherworld.”

“That’s not what you really want.” The words were feisty. The delivery, to my will-not-back-down shame, was embarrassingly breathy.

He smiled against my skin. “Darlin’,” he lilted in a rough whisper, “the filthy things I want to do to you are too numerous to name. So,” he drawled, a waggish glint to his voice, “tell me, what is it I really want.”

I barked a laugh at his attempt to seduce me into saying what he really wanted. I might have lost our final bet, but I wouldn’t make things easy for him.

“Meet me in a candlemark,” he murmured, pretending like he hadn’t just tried to trick me.

“What scheme is brewing in that big mortal brain of yours?"

Instead of answering me, he cupped the back of my neck, then captured my lips in a soft, reverent kiss. A promise of the slow, sweet torture to come. My lips followed his as he stepped away, an extra rascally glint to his self-satisfied smile. The smile of a boy who knew he was magic.

I playfully narrowed my eyes.

He blinked innocently at me.

Then the eejit left me to pine for him.

I almost flew after Cian, to see what mischief he was up to. But I waited, watching a candle melt in a lantern for what seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of my life. When the final drip slipped down the tallow, marking that time was up, I alighted into the air in my Raven form.

When I shifted in front of our wagon, he wasn’t outside, not that I could see, at least. I climbed the steps and entered. It, too, was Cian-less save a single candle lit by our bed. A creamy white object was laid out across our covers and—

I sucked in an excited breath.

Where did he get this? How?

I darted over to our bed and slid a finger across the beautiful damask corset with satin stays in the back and silver clasps in the front. Beside it was a pretty set of drawers with satin ties and lace trim on the hems.

Giggling, I quickly undressed from one of his shirts and his backup trousers and donned the new undergarments. For a final touch, I tied thigh-high stockings with old ribbons just above my knees. I trailed a hand down the front of the corset when finished, enjoying how it tightly fastened around my breasts, waist, and over the top of my new drawers.

I dashed outside, not caring who might see me, and rounded the wagon.

Cian was leaning against the back, watching the stars. Slowly he turned his head and his chest rose in a soft breath. I wasn’t normally shy, but this man had given me everything —companionship when I was dying of loneliness, supplies to bake again, my own kitchen, revenue so my brother could provide for his flock, these pretty underpinnings . . . him .

“Thank you,” I whispered, too overcome to speak.

His eyes widened. Aye, I had indebted myself to him. He opened his mouth to protest, but I put a hand up and stopped him. No words needed to be spoken. What was done was done.

Stepping toward my mate, I took him in for the first time. The old-fashioned breeches he arrived in hugged the curves of his legs and arse once more, while still barefoot from the revelry. His nicest button-down shirt lay mostly open, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing a tantalizing stretch of skin. His hair fell across his forehead to the tips of his ears in golden waves. And . . . the wings he had always wanted were strapped to his back.

I really did find him mouth-wateringly irresistible in those wings.

“You are . . .” his voice caught and he drew in another ragged breath. “Feck, I can’t think around your beauty.”

A blush warmed my cheeks at the way his gray eyes worshiped every inch of me. I truly did feel enchanting. “Where did these come from?”

He pushed off the wagon and closed the distance between us. “Boylesque dancing for a room full of men.”

Anger instantly hit my pulse and I bared my canines. “You did what?!”

He quietly laughed at my territorial reaction, taking my hand and leading me to a mossy log on the edge of the forest. It was then I noticed a series of lit lanterns positioned in a half-circle. On the log was a shawl. A smile wobbled on my lips. He really did think of everything, including the night’s chill.

A drumbeat started up, a sensual rhythm. My brows pushed together. I peered toward center camp through the forest. What was going on? Were the lads putting on an impromptu Fire Dance?

I turned back to Cian and my mouth slackened.

Noticing my attention, he began rolling his hips to the slow, pulsing beat.

Sweet goddess . . .

He was . . . dancing for me? I grinned, tears lining my lashes. This was the one courting ritual I hadn’t yet experienced with anyone—with him.

Fingers suggestively dragged down his bottom lip as ash-lined eyes flashed to mine. He was going to torment me this night. And moons above, did I embrace this torture.

Rings, gracing two fingers and his thumb, glinted in the warm light, adornments he must have borrowed from the fellas. Tilting his head back, his hand slid down his throat to trace the defined lines of his pectorals, his hips still moving in a grinding rhythm.

The tips of his fingers paused their descent at the unbuttoned portion of his shirt. He bit a corner of his lower lip and slipped one button open, followed by the rest, then pushed his shirt open. The breeches he wore hung low on his hips. My gaze lingered on the black feathers draping down his back, on the salivating flex of his abs . . .

Gods . . . stars . . . my blood ignited into a wildfire.

I was consumed. Burning. Always burning for this man.

Sunlight throbbed low in my belly when he wore corsets and dresses, when rouge painted his sultry lips. I deeply loved the feminine side of him. And when his masculine beauty was on display explicitly for my pleasure? My heart ceased to beat.

Lantern light gilded his magnificent wings and flickered across the ridges of his abdomen and the vee of his hips in a tantalizing dance of ambers and shadows. His ring adorned hand played with the ties of his breeches, before brushing his hardening bulge in the lightest of caresses. Before grinding against his palm. The muscles of his chest tightened with the touch, his mouth parting in an aroused breath.

I gripped the log and shifted to find relief. But there was none.

And I couldn’t take another second of his arcing hips, the beautiful lines of his body not pressed to the curves of mine.

Letting the shawl fall back to the log, I stood and he paused only long enough to say, “My soul's obsession, ruin me.”

In two steps, I grabbed the laces on his pants and yanked his hips flush to mine. He bent back at the waist, my fingers still gripping his laces, and continued moving to the sensual drumbeat against me.

I was dying, my pulse electric at the teasing friction of his body.

And something wild inside of me snapped to life.

My nails scraped across the hardened peaks of his nipples, down the ridges of his abdomen. A claiming touch. The moan that left him was deep and slow. Then his lips were on mine. Hungry, demanding. My head spun in raw, animalistic want. He tasted of sunshine, laughter, and every silken, forbidden desire I possessed.

And skies help me, the way this man kissed with his whole body was intoxicating.

He dug his fingers into my upper thighs, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, our lips claiming the other’s in bruising sweeps. He walked us into the forest, gently lowering me to a blanket he had prepared.

I pushed his shirt down his shoulders and arms, the wings too. He tossed them to the side and unlaced his pants, just as impatient as me. My hand wrapped around the hardened length of him and his head fell back in a shuddering breath. But only for a beat. His mouth dropped to the base of my throat, kissing fire along the pushed-up swells of my breasts as I stroked him.

“Corset and stockings only,” he rasped, slowly tugging my drawers down while trailing the tips of his fingers over my clit. I bucked, chasing after his touch, and he, with a rakish smile, placed a hand on my hip to hold me down. The next breath, he lowered himself to his stomach and buried his face between my legs, groaning at the first taste of me.

I twisted my fingers into his hair, dizzy at the feel of his hot breath. I could writhe in heady agony with each curling lick. My fingers held him closer. My head tilted back as I dragged cool air into my feverishly panting lungs. I was growing shamelessly desperate for the wicked flick of his tongue, the cruel way he drew me into his mouth, and ground against his face for more, more, more. And holy gods, did he devour me. My eyes drifted closed for a long moment at the exquisite sensations thrumming in my core.

But no matter how much I wanted to shatter apart right now, I was impatient for him .

Always in tune with me, Cian leaned back on his knees and peered at me through messy blond strands while prowling up my body in a flurry of kisses along my corseted stomach. A breathtaking show of muscle danced across his shoulders and arms. At the beguiling sight, another flush of arousal stirred hot in my rushing blood. And gods, that man’s tongue . . . I might faint at the feel of him tasting the singing beat of my pounding heart fluttering in my neck. As if marking me.

“I crave you to the point of madness,” he whispered.

A single finger glided down the length of my arm, circling around my wrist. Capturing my lips with his, he pinned my hand above my head. His other possessively gripped my hip.

In one dominating push, he drove inside me.

I sucked in a sharp breath; my back arched.

The seductive roll of tribal drumbeats filled the forest, a rhythm that took over the sensual, languidly arcing lines of his body.

“You’re mine,” he said, his thrusts deep and unyielding. “Say it.”

My chest heaved with the delicious fullness stretching me. “I belong only to you.”

“Mine,” he repeated, breathless. “Fecking mine.”

Those roaming fingers of his left my hip to tease circles around my clit.

“I’m drunk on the sinful feel of you.”

Flames licked my tightening skin. My breathing trembled with swelling anguish. The grinding roll of his hips bordered on obscene, the carnal sight liquefying fire in my thrumming core. Dying suns, he felt so fecking good, I might actually lose my mind.

He released my hand and I buried my nails into his forearms. I was on the edge of splintering apart. The heat swelling inside of me was throbbing hotter with every relentless stroke. My eyes cinched shut. Oh gods . . . I wasn’t . . . I was—

He abruptly stopped.

Why wasn’t he moving? Fecking hell, I was so close.

My eyes flew open to his smug smile.

“What do I really want, Glenna?”

I squirmed, too delirious with need, and he pulled out of me with a crowing smile, utterly delighted at my suffering.

Narrowing my eyes, I drawled, “To finish this night.”

His taunting grin widened. “I can finish without you.”

I growled, the emptiness practically whimpering for relief. Well, I could finish without him too. I lowered my hand to myself with a challenging snap of my eyes and he grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head once more.

“What do I really want, darlin’?” he asked, slowly, emphatically.

I clenched my jaw. A bargain was a bargain. I had never broken one, but petting his ego would only feed his vanity. The arse, though, promised to bring me to the edge of release and deny me unless . . .

Fine.

I’d get this over with.

Rolling my eyes I, as quietly as possible, muttered, “You’re my sex god.”

“Bargains, Glenna.” He pushed my legs wider with his knees and teased my entrance with the tip of his cock and I . . . I . . . damn him.

“You’re my sex god,” I said louder, but as humorously lackluster as possible.

The hard length of him slid across my clit next and I bit back yet another whimper.

“In ecstasy, Gent of Fem.”

A sassy reply begged for release. But no matter how much he riled me up, I was completely weak for that boyish, devilishly mischievous grin and the fall of golden locks down his pleasure-flushed face. Cian Lonan-Merrick possessed a kind of beauty so devastating it ached.

Most of all, though, he had one of the most beautiful souls I had ever known.

Aye, he had given me everything .

My competitive nature refused to acknowledge my loss. But I was so wildly in love, I couldn’t resist him, bargains be damned.

“On your back,” I ordered and that saucy grin of his turned feral.

He knew.

I would give him what he really wanted. The only reason he rolled us over until I straddled him. Moaning when I sank onto his cock.

Gripping my arse, he rocked me against him, long and slow. The stockings tied to my thighs creased into my skin with the movement. My breasts strained against my new corset with every heaving breath. My long hair swayed across my arms. Cian fisted a handful and gently tugged me toward him, the fingers of one hand still biting into my soft flesh.

Our lips collided in a fevered kiss.

Stars above, I could kiss him until my soul’s final breath.

“I’m obsessively in love with you,” he whispered against my mouth. “An eternity together is heartbreakingly short.”

“I love you,” I said on an unraveling gasp. “I love you . . . I love you . . .”

I came undone in a lush starburst of sensations. My nails dragged along the smooth, sculpted lines of his chest. Still drowning in him, in this, my hips rode him deeper, faster through my release.

When muscles down his body tightened, gripped in pleasure, when his breathing ended in sharp moans and the sweetest agony flushed across his face, I threw my head back and cried out, “Cian . . . oh god, Cian . . . you’re my sex god!”

He broke into laughter before I finished, his still flexing muscles now quaking.

Hooting and cheers erupted from camp and I slapped a hand over my mouth. When had the drums ended?

Cian laughed harder at my mortified horror, practically wheezing for breath. Tears began pooling in his eyes.

“Really?”

He blew out a slow breath, trying to calm his delight.

And started laughing again.

Aye, torture by Wee Folk, it was. Followed by waking in bed to Cordelia staring at him.

But, Holy Mother of Stars, the joy shining from his smile alone was almost blinding in its beauty, a brilliant light that radiated from every part of his being.

“Ask me,” he murmured, still trying to rein in his humor.

“Ask you what ?”

That up-to-no grin of his slowly inched up his face. “If light radiates from every part of my being.”

“You read me?!”

He grabbed my hands and rolled us over. Before I could protest, he buried his face in my neck, burning a trail of embered kisses down my throat while cupping my corseted breast. I was quickly melting into moonlight. I could take my final breath in his arms like this.

But I couldn’t let him win.

“Darlin’,” I drolled, albeit breathlessly, “your shiny, sparkly arse can go—”

“Wrong part.”

Wrong . . . a laugh burst from me.

Cian lowered and captured my happiness in a playful kiss, both of us unable to stop our laughter. As our kisses grew more drunken, endlessly heady, I found myself lost in the wonder of this past week. We had started in poverty and ended in riches. And all because of this gorgeous, kind, rascally man. Cian Lonan-Merrick was pure sunshine and chaos, my whole heart, the bawdy half of my soul.

And sexy demi-god before me, how I loved this shameless hussy.