Clouds blocked out the morning sun, shrouding them in shadow. The wind began to whip through the practice yard, and the first fat drops of an impending downpour fell. Odhrán glanced up and gestured toward the armory to seek shelter. With poor grace, Clíodhna followed him as the storm grew in fury.
No one else had sought the safety of the small armory. They shared the space with staves, leather armor and barding, horse tack in for repair, and a few old, pitted swords. The smells of rust, leather, and dust tickled her nose, warring with the musty odor of the rainstorm.
A crack of lightning struck the well-flattened dirt of the empty practice yard, making Odhrán jump.
He turned to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Clíodhna shrugged them off. “Don’t patronize me, Odhrán. You know better than that.”
“I do, and I didn’t intend to patronize you. Will you calm your prickles for just a moment? I have news for you.”
She pressed her lips together.
“I’m to go away in six days.”
Startled, she blinked. “Away? But this is your home. How long must you travel?”
“Away for good. I’ve been reassigned to another community.”
Suddenly realizing how much she’d miss her friend and their conversations, her anger cooled. “Where? How far away?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not sure. Someplace north, called Ard Mhacha. I’m to help establish a church for Abbot Pátraic. He’s charged me with finding the best site to build one and organize the construction.”
Ard Mhacha. She’d heard of it in the Druí tales, a sacred place to the goddess Macha. Clíodhna remembered it lay far to the north and east. It must be at least six days’ travel from here in Loch Rí. She might never see Odhrán again.
Needing to keep him close, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. He hesitated at first, but then hugged her, his hands strong on her spine. She drew back, their faces but an inch apart. With tender affection, she kissed him softly on the lips. The kiss lasted much longer than she’d intended, though she never wanted it to stop. Bealtaine came tomorrow, and she owed it to the gods to honor them.
His hands caressed her back, her waist, and she increased the depth of the kiss with an open mouth. She pulled him against her body, feeling his need rise between them. He dug his fingers into her hair, and her own desire responded, tingling through her like the lightning outside.
The whooshing wind made the door swing shut. They stopped, startled from their passion, but then continued with increased vigor and hunger. Clíodhna released the urges she’d repressed for moons, eager to enfold him in her ardor. A willing participant, he pulled her down to the floor of the armory, amidst the hay and the dust.
Odhrán ran his hand down her waist to her thigh, pushing up under her léine. The soft skin of his palm against her breasts made her shiver in delighted anticipation. She moaned when he kissed her neck and shoulder. Clíodhna pushed up his léine and cupped her hands on his buttocks, caressing the downy hair and strong muscles.
His eyes widened as she pushed him to the ground. She grinned and yanked up his léine all the way up, pulled hers up around her waist, and straddled him. He groaned and closed his eyes, and she rocked with gentle motion, rubbing against his manhood with a barely controlled craving to feel him inside her.
Clíodhna, unable to wait any longer, lifted and guided him in. He let out a deep grunt and clasped her hips. With measured rhythm, she moved up and down, controlling their lovemaking with precise passion. He shuddered and wriggled beneath her, making her peak more quickly. She didn’t want it to be over yet, so she stopped, squeezing deep within her. His hands tightened on her hips, his nails digging into her skin. Clíodhna placed her hands on his chest, raking them across his breast and nipples, bending in for a savage kiss, biting his neck. He grabbed her head and stole a kiss from her, just as filled with need.
She moved again, stroking up and down with her hips as his cries rose in a crescendo, matching her own need and fervor. They both shrieked in time with a massive roll of thunder, the storm outside masking their own passionate fury.
The aftermath of her climax rippled through her body, still connected to his. He twitched and let out a whimper. With careful movements, she dismounted him and cleaned herself of his seed, rearranging their clothing with practiced hands. Clíodhna lay beside him, holding his hand to her chest as his breathing slowed from frantic to normal.
“Clíodhna! Oh, my dear sweet God, what have you done to me?”
Confused, she turned to him. “Did I imagine your enjoyment, Odhrán?”
He turned, leaning his head on his hand. “Oh, I enjoyed it! You stole my very essence and I loved every second. But I must leave in a week. I don’t wish to leave you. At this moment, I don’t think I could walk if I tried.”
She giggled and stroked his cheek, her finger tracing a line of sweat. He grabbed her finger and kissed it.
Another boom of thunder shook the ground. He glanced at the door. “Perhaps we should get up. As much as I’d love to spend hours in your arms, someone will come looking for me when the storm eases.”
“That would be wise.”
The door slammed open and the wind rushed in. Abbot Pátraic stood in the opening, his face filled with thunderous anger as he took in their positions. “How dare you? How dare you corrupt my faithful monks with your wanton, hedonistic ways!”
They both scrambled to their
