Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles) (20 page)

Sliding a hand between them, he found her sex and she jerked when he circled her nub. All that obvious desire for him made him impossibly hard. He toyed there for as long as he was able, his body taut with restraint. Finn sank a finger into her and she went rigid. Then she urged him deeper and he followed it with another finger. Soon she rode his digits, head thrown back, hair cascading and brushing against the arm he used to support her. His nostrils flared, his skin heated. Torture and ecstasy in one. A sight he’d never forget.

“Now,” she said so quietly, he barely heard her. “Now,” she repeated forcefully.

Nodding—not trusting himself with words—he withdrew his fingers and spread out her discarded robe over the bale. He urged her down until she lay across it and settled himself between her thighs again.

Her gaze raked over him and the glint in her eyes told him she liked what she saw. He was so hard and ready for her. Her sex touched his aching shaft and they both groaned aloud.

The sensation sparked a frenzy in them, one that would only be quenched by lovemaking. Finn moved his hands to her hair, across her breasts and under her rear, moulding her to him as he stared down at her. Never had a moment been more intimate. But he couldn’t take the time to treasure it. His need for this magical woman was too great. He kissed her mouth, neck, collarbone and she wriggled against him, spreading her lips over whatever flesh she could find. Her soft lips dancing across his skin increased the throb in his body and before realising what he’d done, he found her hips again and he joined them in one short, sharp thrust.

She cried out, and he froze.

“Damnation.”

He tried to pull away but she held him there. By God, why couldn’t he have been more careful? He’d just taken her innocence like some barbarian. Somehow he remained still, his arms trembling as he held himself above her. The tight heat forced sweat to prick on his forehead. She gazed boldly up at him, as if absorbing the new sensation. The tiniest movement of her hips and her body relaxing had him making a sound in the back of his throat and he lowered himself, weight held one arm, his other hand stroking her hair.

They kissed unsteadily, picking up speed until they ravaged each other’s mouths. Finn knew Katelyn was passionate, but her reaction staggered him. He’d wager no man realised such an astounding woman lay behind her fragile, beautiful features. Mayhap he was the only man to unlock this side of her.

Finn moved erratically, with little finesse, but it seemed he could do no wrong. Her body fluttered in response. The primal rhythm overtook him, only her scent and her hot staggered breaths registered. The taste and feel of her filled his senses. Scalding gratification began to burn through his body so he slid a hand between them and rotated a finger against her folds. Her mouth slipped from his and her body tensed.

“Oh, Finn,” she cried. “Sweet Mary….”

He saw it unfold. Through the fog of his own pleasure he didn’t see it as clearly as he’d have liked but he still observed the widening of her eyes when she peaked, body shaking and bucking. Finn tucked her head into the crook of his neck, still relentlessly driving into her. She would never forget this—never forget
him
.

This was it for him, he realised, as the sensations boiled inside him. While the lovemaking was unlike anything he’d ever felt, it was the feeling in his chest, his feelings for this woman that made it so much more.

She continued to buck into his lunges, in spite of her exhausted state, and he helped her, using her body to bring himself to the edge and over. He spilled inside her, the fiercest release of his life.

“Finn,” she breathed in his ear, the sound wrapping around his heart.

He sagged against her, despair replacing satisfaction. What had he done?

Chapter Eight

Catriona winced and tried to rub her face. It itched. But her arms were trapped.
Trapped.

Her chest compressed and she twisted frantically. A male grumble pulled her out of her panic and she froze.

Finn.

She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, forcing away the sleep in her eyes. The light of dawn streamed in through the gaps in the wood and the open front of the stables. Straw prickled her skin. One strong arm and leg enveloped her, pinned her down. Her robe tangled around Finn’s legs, the green silk somehow looking impeccable against his sun kissed skin. Catriona put a hand to his shoulder and relished his warm, taut skin. Scars marred his back, some barely visible and others streaking across his perfect skin like lightning bolts—proof of his bold nature. Odd how he cared so little for his own welfare. She traced the line of muscle in his arm, marvelling at how he’d withheld that strength with her. There were moments when he’d been rough, but she trusted him to know what she needed.

Considering her body, she conceded she was paying the price now. She winced as she shifted her legs. Losing her maidenhood was never going to be pleasant, but she’d hadn’t expected such an experience. Or had she? Why else would she have given herself to him? Finn had been so considerate, in spite of his—
their
—desperate need for one another. Her heart dropped. How she longed to find out more. Any other lover would never match up to Finn.

She laughed at herself. As if she could ever have another lover after this. When her father came for her, she anticipated hiding away. Without Finn, who knew how her fears might manifest themselves? It was unlikely any other man would be as understanding of her nightmares.

Scuffing footsteps outside sent her heart rebounding against her ribs.

“Finn!” She shook his arm.

He grumbled again, lifted his head and gave her a sleepy smile that melted her insides. His hair fell across his face, mussed and scattered with straw. He eyed her from under his brow, lines creasing it as he took in her naked state. His smile tilted.

“Finn, ‘tis dawn.”

He blinked, glanced around and scrabbled to standing. “Damnation.”

Together they hunted down their clothes and dressed. He helped her shrug into her robe as she battled with the pin for his plaid.

“I dinnae know how I’m going to explain this.” She motioned up and down her.

He peered around the doorway. “Fear not. The sun is only just up. Most of the household is still abed.”

“We should not have taken such a risk. What if Gillean sees me?”

His jaw clenched, his eyes hardened. “Aye, of course. Gillean. Ye wouldnae want yer future husband to know of yer nocturnal activities.”

Pain stabbed her heart and she pressed her lips together. Brushing the straw from her robe and plucking some out of her hair, she gathered her breath. Why did he have to make it sound so sordid? Had he not wanted her just as badly? She hadn’t intended for Finn to make love to her but she had been so consumed by him, she had to see him. And, as usual, once in his presence all sense deserted her.

But it had taken two. And now he behaved as if she’d instigated it all. Talking about her as if she was some kind of… “Dinnae speak as if I am a whore,” she said quietly.

“This was a mistake,” he bit out.

The agony in her chest expanded and made her limbs shake. She ran her fingers through her hair and lifted her chin. “That much I know. But I didnae expect ye to talk so to me.”

He paused, skimmed his gaze over her and shook his head. Clearly he regretted getting close to her. Did he feel he’d betrayed the memory of his wife? Was it something else? Mayhap he had only wanted a quick tumble and feared she’d fallen for him. Well, she would have to set him straight. She’d known all along their attraction was doomed.

“Help me to my chambers unseen and we shall speak no more of this. Ye can forget it ever happened.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw and he jerked slightly, as if she’d struck out at him. Finally, he nodded. “Aye, ‘twould be best. Soon ye shall be married.”

Why did he repeat that all the time? It was not as if she did not know. She only hoped it would not come to pass. It had been a foolish move, making love to Finn. Gillean would question why she was no longer a maiden if it ever came to that. Her stomach churned and she cast her gaze up, praying that did not lie in her future.

“Just return me to the keep,” she whispered, coming to his side as he put his head around the doorway. For once, she needed the refuge of her chambers. She needed to wash away his scent, his touch, and straighten her confused thoughts.

And she must come up with a way to deal with Gillean. Finn had proved such a distraction she kept forgetting what was at stake. The safety of Bute. Gillean had to be appeased if her father still did not have the king’s support. Until she knew otherwise, she had to continue her ruse.

Fingers pressed to her lips, she shook her head. What had she been thinking? She’d given herself to a man who didn’t even know who she was.

“Come then.” Finn did not wait for a response. He snatched her hand and led her across the bailey.

She scanned the empty courtyard with a sigh of relief. A few men were high up on the walls but their backs were to them as they surveyed the land for danger. They hurried across the dry mud, hand in hand. If only his touch did not make her feel so safe. Indeed, Finn had to be the most dangerous man of all. If he had not already broken her heart, leaving him would surely finish the job.

He led her up the few stone steps to the hall door and pushed it open slightly. Finn put his face to the gap and Catriona peered around wildly, her heart thudding. Anyone could come along and discover them. What would they think if they saw her in her chemise, hand in hand with Finn? They would think they had taken a tumble.

She almost laughed. They’d be right about that. For Finn, it had certainly been a mere tumble. And for her? It was lovemaking. Without a doubt.

The door squeaked when Finn pushed it further open. Catriona grimaced, ready for someone to pounce on them and demand to know what they had done, but no one came. A servant scurried about at the end of the hall, laying the top table, but he paid them no heed. Mayhap he would gossip about them later but as long as Gillean or Lorna did not see them, servant’s talk meant little.

Finn urged her across the hall and up the stairs to the gallery. Still clasping her hand, he led her to her chamber. Just as he put a hand to the door handle, footsteps made her lift her head. Finn dropped her hand and took a step back as Gillean strode along the balcony from his chambers.

“Lady Katelyn,” he greeted, fastening his hands behind and studying her. “What are ye doing out of yer chambers dressed in so little?”

Gillean’s eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. He dropped his gaze to her breasts and she clamped her robe around her, sure he had seen her nipples dark against the linen. The thought twisted her stomach.

“I-I...”

“Lady Katelyn thought she heard a noise and was looking for aid. I happened to already be awake,” Finn interjected smoothly.

“Really?” Gillean mused and brought a hand up to stroke his beard. “How fortunate for ye, my lady, that Finn should be awake at this early hour.”

She smiled tightly. “Indeed. But it seems I was mistaken. All is well.”

“That is good news indeed.” Gillean’s expression lightened and he smiled. “I hope ye are well rested. We have the wedding plans to finalise this day.”

“Aye, my laird. I hope we shall have word from my father soon, so that he may join us.”

“We can but hope, but I must return to my lands soon,” he warned before sending an indulgent smile to Finn. “These women are sentimental creatures. Ye have done well not to have married again.”

Finn nodded, his expression tight. Katelyn noticed he had curled both fists at his side.

“Of course, they forget that marriage is a business transaction for men,” Gillean continued. “But I have done well to secure such a prize, do ye no’ think Finn?”

Surely he saw Finn’s tense stance? Did Gillean intend to rile him? What did he want? Mayhap he suspected there was more to their presence on the gallery than they’d said. The laird was certainly a shrewd man. But if he anticipated sparking a reaction from Finn, he’d have little chance. Even her making love to him had not breached his barriers.

Catriona fought the temptation to protest such a description but the fight had left her, sapped by Finn’s dismissal.

Finn squared his shoulders. “I would know naught of prizes, Gillean, but ye have yerself a fine woman. Now, if ye’ll excuse me, I have much to see to.” He bowed to Katelyn. “Good day, my lady.”

She did not respond—did not trust herself to. He stormed down the stairs, running a hand through his dishevelled hair as he went. The memory of how his fair hair had felt under her fingers made them tingle. The desire to curl up and shut away the world grew stronger but she kept her spine straight and met Gillean’s perceptive gaze.

“I should dress.”

“Ye should, my lady. Ye shouldnae be out of yer chambers dressed so.” She caught the reprimand in his tone. “No matter how enticing ye might look.”

Catriona gripped her silk robe until her fingers grew tingly.

“I have high hopes the priest shall arrive this day,” he informed her.

“That… that is good news.”