The Silkie's Woman (3 page)

Chapter Four

Megan climbed slowly up the path that led to Dun Aengus, the ancient watchtower at the top of the cliffs. As she neared the summit, the sun was just clearing the horizon. The day was starting out rather gray, and the sun had to work to clear the clouds. Small rays of light escaped and made their way to earth. She loved to come up here to watch the sunrise. The gray slate-colored rock, dull by any other light, came alive with the reflection of the water that had gathered overnight in the hollows and rills of the rocks. As the dawn sun struck the stone, it appeared to turn to liquid silver, every bit of it taking the sun's reflection and spinning it out and up. The effect only lasted until the water on the surface of the rock evaporated, usually not more than a half-hour, so Megan always tried to be at the top by dawn.

As she neared the end of the pathway, she noticed a figure moving near the edge of the cliffs. Her jaw dropped as she realized the figure was male, and completely nude. His view of her was partially blocked by a large pile of rocks next to her, and she quickly ducked down so she could peruse him at her leisure. He wasn't aware she was able to see him. Her approach up the path had been almost silent because of her familiarity with it. As she peeked around the rocks, she noticed the man had sat down and was busily exploring himself.
Good God, he was going to masturbate
. Megan sat down, eager to see what he would do.

His body was almost perfect; tan, muscular, and very large. His shoulders were as wide as the gray rock behind him, and even from this distance she could see his eyes were very dark. He appeared tall, but it was hard to tell, because he was sitting down. His long black hair whipped in the wind, shooting blue fire as the sun struck it. His cheekbones were high, and combined with his aquiline nose, gave him the look of a Roman emperor. Megan frowned, as she realized he bore an uncanny resemblance to the man from her dreams.

There was no way he could be the same man. He was more muscular, for one, and he appeared far less self-assured than the man in her dreams. She dismissed the coincidence and watched in eager anticipation as he moved his hand from his upper thighs to his rampant cock.

His other hand remained on his chest, absently rubbing a puckered and distended nipple. The previously half-mast penis was now an impressive hard-on reaching towards his belly button. He was a very large man indeed. His hand roamed from the base to the top in a leisurely exploration, pausing at various spots along the way. As his hand went back to the base, Megan noticed he had a foreskin, something she had seen only in pictures. She wondered how it might change the sensation for a man. From the expression on his face, Megan could believe he had never touched himself before. His eyes were shut with enjoyment and his face tight with concentration as his hand made the journey from base to swollen tip again. His hips followed his hand as the stroke neared its zenith and his teeth gritted in excitement. On the next stroke he rubbed intensely from the middle to the point just under the head. His hand went up and over the head again and again. Each successive stroke was harder and quicker until his hand was almost a blur of motion.

Megan became intensely aroused as she watched his excitement grow. It seemed like she was taking part in his pleasure. Each time his hand neared the sensitive plum-like head of his cock, she jolted in pleasure. Her pussy was so wet she could feel the moisture beginning to soak through to her jeans. Her thighs clenched in an effort to grind out some more sensation from her clit as she could see his climax nearing. She clearly heard his helpless panting from her position, and she knew it wasn't going to be very long before he finished.

 
Suddenly, his back arched up and away from the stone pile he had been leaning against, and his hand tightened on the rampant member, a huge jet of cum exploding from the tip. He threw back his head and bellowed with enjoyment. It seemed like the orgasm went on forever, and Megan was amazed with the intensity of his pleasure. As his hips jerked in spasm after spasm, her body decided it could handle things on its own and she too pulsed in pleasure, the intense orgasm shaking her to her toes. She fell back against the pile of rocks, horrified when she heard one of the large stones on the pile tumble to the ground with a thunderous boom.

Breath froze in her throat, as she waited for him to round the corner. After minutes had passed with no sound, Megan peeked her head around the corner again, only to see him vaulting the stone wall on the other side of the fort. Even completely dressed, he was gorgeous; dark blue jeans made his firm backside a mouth-watering temptation that was almost impossible to resist, and a flannel shirt lay open at the neck, dark chest hair peeking through. The blue jacket he wore also hung open, despite the chilly wind.

Megan rose up from behind the rocks and followed him down the sea cliff path at a leisurely pace. He was half-way down the path when he looked back. She froze like a deer in headlights as his strange gaze played up her body; his eyes appeared to be all pupil, liquid and iridescent with reflected light, much like the rock had been moments ago.

He held out his hand to her, and she felt compelled to complete the steps that separated them. As their fingertips touched, she noticed his broad smooth hands, so like the hands from her dreams. The breeze blew a beguiling fragrance around her that was somehow familiar. Salty, pleasant, much like the smell of the sea and smoky with hints of peat, it filled her senses, and she stepped closer to breathe in his musky scent. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should be appalled at her behavior. She knew nothing about this man, and here she was following him around like a dog in heat. She blamed her erotic dreams for this. She had had her share of casual affairs, but she had never contemplated going home with someone she had just met.

 
The danger of her actions faded to the back of her mind as his obsidian gaze trapped hers. Instant arousal enveloped her. There was no reason not to enjoy this, right? The pneumonia that had almost killed her had convinced her not to let opportunities like this slide by her any more. She wanted to live life to the fullest. What better way to reaffirm her life than to have wild sex with this drop-dead gorgeous man? And if he was a copy of her dream man, so what? Stranger things had occurred.

He didn't say anything as his fingers wrapped around her hand, pulling her in close to his body as they continued down the path toward town. Neither one of them said anything as the rocky path ended at the road.

He looked at her with an eyebrow cocked inquiringly, and she motioned to the right, toward town. Her house was outside town, a couple of miles from the round tower and cliffs.

The sun had warmed up the road so mist rose in billowing clouds from the gray pavement and surrounding fields. It was unusually warm for December, slightly above freezing, and Megan was actually overheated in her long black coat. She looked up at the man from the cover of her hair. The rich red strands caught the sun as she looked through them
at his amused black gaze. Her head whipped back around, and a fiery blush started at her toes and worked its way up to her neck and face.

She cleared her throat before attempting to speak, afraid nervousness would make her voice come out in a mousy squeak.

 
"Are you from the island?" she asked tentatively. "I haven't seen you around before." Perhaps she had seen him at the pub or in one of the stores and hadn't realized it, although how she could have missed such a fine specimen, she didn't know. But that would explain her dreams, and her instant attraction.

His mouth quirked in a grin as he looked down at her and said, "Yes, I'm from the island. I live on the ocean side, well away from the town."

***

He was amazed at how easy it was to speak. Grandfather had always told the pups that when the time came, the mindspeak would help them understand the humans. He hadn't really believed it, though. Everything this woman knew was open to him as he pushed through her surface thoughts to the feelings beneath. He was stunned at how easy it was, compared to his earlier attempt.

She was very close to ovulation, and the Amat was beginning. A smile tipped up the corners of his mouth as he realized how much she wanted to mate with him. He hoped he could satisfy her. He had discovered when making the mark that she was not an innocent. In addition to the call of her perfect chemistry, her experience in sexual matters is what had drawn him to her. This was to be his first mating, and thoughts of what that meant sent shivers of desire through him, making his cock rise. The coarse blue fabric did not stretch enough to accommodate his rising erection and the tight fit now threatened to emasculate him with every step.

She dropped his hand as they neared the small cottage, set back from the road. She gestured towards it and looked up at him. "Home sweet home." Her hand twisted the doorknob, and the door swung open.

The sudden release of her physical presence made him realize it was her touch that had allowed the mindspeak to remain so strong. Now that she no longer held his hand, he could only read her surface thoughts. His attempts to read further were futile. She backed into the house, keeping her eyes on his until he had fully entered the cottage.

 
"I am Urlon. What is your name?" he asked, hoping to alleviate some of her anxiety.

"Megan O'Brien," she answered, her tone still a bit high-pitched as she faced the reality of his presence in her home. His head almost hit the ceiling in the small house, and his wide shoulders seemed to take up all the space in the tiny room. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, careful to maintain eye contact with her.

Up close to him, she could see the many small white scars that marked his body as the shirt pulled away from his skin. They looked as if they had been caused by bites, or perhaps they were deep scratch marks. His nipples were a beautiful dusky brown and she licked her lips at the thought of sucking on them. He reached out to caress her cheek and a thousand sensations washed over her. Her point of view changed, and it seemed as if she were looking at herself from his eyes. Her eyes were half-closed, their green depths lambent with desire. A pink flush spread from her chest to her checks, relieving their usual paleness and making her glow. Red tendrils of hair brushed the edge of her ass and curled around her hips, making her look like an Irish goddess. She became dizzy at the attempt to maintain her control on what was happening. Every time she tried to pull her eyes from his, a vortex of blackness rose up and threatened to swallow her. She finally put her hands on his chest and gave a little push back, causing his hand to drop from her cheek. As he released her, the world spun again, and she was suddenly back inside her own body—on the way to the floor.

Hard arms scooped her up before she could complete the fall, and she felt them close tightly around her as the world grayed into a long tunnel, eventually going dark.

***

Urlon reacted quickly when Megan severed his contact. His nostrils quivered as the sweet scent of her arousal enveloped him. His erection became too much to bear. He carried her quickly into the first bedroom he came to and deposited her on the bed. He couldn't resist smoothing a hand over her hair as his hand came close to her breasts. He lifted a large portion of hair from the pillow and breathed in her scent, its rich, fruity smell unlike anything he had ever encountered before. It blended with the scent of her arousal and made him unbearably hard.

The urge to mate was strong within him, and it took every bit of control he had to place a covering over her and leave the room. He closed the door softly behind him and walked into the cold December air.

***

Megan awoke abruptly, and sat up in darkness. Her skin was tingling with a strange sensation, almost as if she was suffering from a mild and continuous electrical shock. Her nipples were budded and tight, and her cunt was dripping wet beneath the clothing she wore. A quilt had been tucked up around her, but it did little to quell the shivers snaking through her body. She rose from the bed, anxious to see where Urlon had gone. As she passed into the main room of the dark house, she hit the lights next to the door and realized there was no one else in the room.

"Where could he have gone?" she muttered to herself as she knelt before the fireplace to replace the peat. She pressed two pieces of the brick-like peat onto the fireplace grille and put a few pieces of paper underneath it. Her hands shook slightly as she lit the match, the quivering flame mirroring the way her insides felt. The paper lit with a whoosh and ignited the peat. The room brightened with a cheery yellow-red glow, almost too bright in the face of her sudden depression.

Arms crossed to ward off the damp chill that permeated the room, Megan sat down heavily on the couch, shocked to feel twin tears snaking their way down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Thinking a cup of tea might calm her down, she made her way to the stove and lit the gas burner.

As the water warmed, she stood with her hands against the sink, looking out into the darkness. The clock above the sink read 6:30. She had been out for hours, almost the whole day, and yet an enervating weakness invaded her body, and she felt like she could sleep for hours more. Perhaps she wasn't completely recovered from her recent illness. As soon as the water was ready, she added it to the cup where her teabag rested and picked up the soothing brew. Steamy tendrils teased her nostrils as she sipped, shivering as it warmed up her insides. She was finally beginning to feel more like herself, except for the strange tingling that continued to travel up and down her body, centering in the cleft between her thighs.