Erik looked down at her hand before his eyes finally found hers. She could see the pain mixed with something akin to regret in his eyes, and her breath stilled in her chest.
She would have never imagined that someone as strong and assured as Erik would have such a painful past. He had to defend himself against those that should have loved him the most, against his parents. “Lass, I...” he started before clamping his mouth shut.
Finley moved closer to him, unable to help it. Now that she knew his story, his darkest secret, hers didn’t feel so important. “I will tell ye mine,” she replied, sliding her hand down to his balled fist, “but it pales in comparison.”
“Try me,” was all he said, opening his hand to slide hers in. She gasped at the touch of his rough, calloused palm against hers, and he dropped it immediately, taking several steps back. “I’m sorry, lass.”
“Nay,” she breathed, sensations that she had never experienced before moving through her body.
Suddenly Finley was attuned to the way her heart was beating against her chest, the way her skin had tingled at the way he had gripped her hand lightly, as if he needed to touch her. Her breasts tingled with anticipation, and her nether region suddenly tightened, wanting more.
She wanted more, but first, she owed him her story.
So, Finley shared her battles, her first interaction with the former laird to her fight with Leeth, and every fight thereafter as she grew in the warrior ranks. “I didnae want tae prove anything for mahself,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I wanted tae prove tae the rest of them that they hadnae mistaken mah intent.”
Erik smiled at her, his eyes searching hers. “And now here ye are.” He then reached up and brushed the top of her scar with his fingers. “How did this happen?”
“Stupid, really,” she muttered, thinking back to the day. “It was naught but a skirmish, really. I thought I had skewered the warrior through, but he had been tougher than I had anticipated.” She could still feel the rake of his dagger across her skin, flaying it open and causing her to see nothing but blood.
“Mah aunt nearly lost herself when they brought me home, and all she could see was the blood.” Now it didn’t bother her; it was barely noticeable to herself until someone pointed it out.
The clan was used to it by now, as well as her family, but she imagined it had been quite the shock to Erik.
“I have a few of those too,” he replied evenly, lifting his tunic and grabbing her hand. Finley’s fingers touched the hard muscle of his abdomen, blood roaring to her ears as she felt the ridges.
“Right there,” he said hoarsely as her fingers came in contact with a deep scar just above his belly button. “Nearly killed mahself in mah first battle. If it hadnae been for Kaiden, I would have died that day.”
And they wouldn’t be standing here now. Finley boldly pressed her hand to his scar and heard Erik’s swift intake of his breath. “Lass,” he croaked as she felt the warmth of his body against the palm of her hand.
Finley didn’t know what she was doing, but when she pressed her lips to his, he didn’t pull away.
He placed his hand on her neck and deepened her chaste kiss, his tongue colliding with hers the moment she gasped against his mouth.
His other hand found her and dragged her against him, Finley feeling his need pressed up against her stomach. This was all new to her, yet it felt as if she had been waiting for this moment all her life.
His fingers drifted into her braid and quickly unraveled it, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. Finley slid her hand up his body, too embarrassed to touch him there, and her fingers collided with the crisp hair on his chest.
She wanted his shirt off so she could look at him.
Breaking her first kiss, Finley tugged with her other hand on the hem of his tunic. “Off,” she forced out, the ale in her stomach making her far bolder than she would have been normally.
His eyes darkened, and he let go of her to tug on the tunic himself, pulling it over his head.
By the gods, he is handsome!
Finley drank in the sight of his bare chest in the moonlight, wondering how there could be a specimen such as this on Earth.
“Tell me,” he said softly, placing his tunic on the ground before grasping her hip, “how would ye like for this tae go, lass? I can take ye against this wall or in mah bed, or both if ye prefer.”
He was talking about the things that the women in the keep whispered in the dark, and Finley blushed deeper, her tongue suddenly tied in knots, much like the rest of her. Was she willing to do this with him? It had never crossed her mind before now, before Erik.
Yes, she wanted him desperately.
But an expression crossed his face, and his smile died. “Ye’re a maiden, arenae ye?”
“Aye,” she croaked, figuring he would find out directly. Her aunt had told her long ago about this sort of situation, especially since she was around a lot of warriors for much of the day. There would be blood and pain, but it would be worth the suffering—if Finley chose to do it outside the marriage bed, that was.
She wanted to with Erik.
