Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [19]
I stood. "Oh, aye?"
He blinked. "Moirin?"
In that moment, the balance of power shifted between us forever. I crossed my arms, folding them under my young breasts, and saw his gaze flicker over my body. "And who else might I be?"
"Ahh…" Cillian flushed. "You've grown, that's all."
"So I have," I agreed.
"Aye." He stood stupidly, staring.
"What news?" I prompted him.
"Oh!" He started. "Oh, aye." He made a sweeping gesture toward the west. "There's a whole new land that's been discovered across the sea. An Aragonian explorer found it. It's all the talk of the Academy."
"Is it now?"
"It is." Cillian came toward me, dropping the satchel he carried. His hand rose as though of its own accord to touch my face. "Dagda Mor!" he breathed. "Have I been gone so long?"
I leaned away from him. "You have."
"Forgive me?" he begged.
"I might." I ducked and picked up the satchel. "What have you brought me?"
It wasn't much. Stale oatcakes, the dregs of last season's honey, crystallized in the comb. A smoked ham that was nearly rancid. An illustrated history of the Master of the Straits.
"Hmm."
Cillian flushed again. "I'll bring whatever you like next time."
I stepped close to him, until we were nearly nose to nose. "What I want is my friend back."
"Moirin." His voice was husky. He clasped my upper arms, his hands strong. It felt good. His dark grey eyes were intent on mine. I'd never noticed how handsome he was. "Have I not always been your friend?"
I shrugged. "When it suited." It suits.
He kissed me. His lips were firm, but softer than I expected. Over and over, Cillian kissed my mouth. And then there was his tongue, probing tentatively. At first the invasion startled me, and then I welcomed it. I teased it with my own—teased and retreated, forcing him to delve deeper into my mouth.
Yes, I thought. This.
The bright lady agreed, amused.
There was a sound of my mother clearing her throat. She was standing near the hearth, a brace of grouse dangling from one hand.
Cillian sprang backward.
I eyed her.
"So," she said wryly. "Already?"
"We were just—" Cillian began.
"I can see well enough what you were about," my mother said. "Moirin…" She sighed. "Grown as you may have done, you're a child in a woman's body yet. Have a care with it, will you not?"
I didn't want to have a care with it and I didn't want to be told I was a child. What I wanted was for Cillian to kiss me again and find out what happened next. But there was a shadow of worry behind my mother's eyes that made me nod reluctantly and keep my peace.
And so I sat plucking grouse while Cillian spoke of the rumors surrounding the new land that had been discovered across the sea; of fabulous cities rising up from lush jungles, folk who dressed themselves all in jade and feathers, and gold beyond telling. It was all very interesting, but I'd rather have been kissing him.
When it came time for him to leave, I walked with him to where his mount was tethered on the outskirts of the woods, feeling my mother's gaze boring into my back. Cillian's stalwart pony had been replaced by a tall chestnut gelding, another sign that he was edging toward manhood.
"He's a beauty." I blew softly into the chestnut's nostrils. He whickered and lowered his head that I might scratch his ears. "Will you teach me to ride him?"
"Moirin." Cillian caught me around my waist. He turned me around and kissed me again. "I'll do aught you wish, my witch-girl," he whispered against my lips. "Only tell me you're not wroth and I'm welcome here."
"Hmm." I pulled back in the circle of his arms. "I am wroth. But only because I missed you."
"I'll come again," he promised, pulling me toward him and showering my face with kisses. "I promise."
"Shall I make sure of it?" I teased, tasting my newfound power.
"How?"
I slid my hands into his auburn hair and kissed him in reply, long and deep, pressing my body against his. Cillian groaned into my open mouth. I broke off the kiss and slipped from his arms with a deft twist. The blood was beating hard in my veins and