16
In all his days, Erik had never seen such a lovely sight when Finley blushed. He couldn’t believe that she was standing before him, even after everything that he had done this evening, and she had kissed him.
He wasn’t about to push her away this time. “Touch me, Finley,” he asked in a low voice, well aware of the warriors posted outside his chamber. If he were to die tomorrow or the next day, he wanted this memory of her hands on his scarred form to send him to the gods.
Finley swallowed as her hand reached out and laid flat against his chest, the warmth of her skin against his setting him on fire. He held still as she started to trace the contours of his body, each stroke of her fingers causing his lower half to ache unbearably.
No, he wouldn’t take her tonight. With an uncertain future, he would leave her a maiden for the next Scot that caught her eye and made her an honest woman. The thought didn’t sit well with Erik, however. Someone else would be touching her, allowing her hands to run over their body.
Hopefully, he would be long dead before that happened.
Finley’s hand trembled at his abdomen, and he captured it in his own, bringing it up to his lips. “Nay, lass,” he croaked. “Ye aren’t ready for that.”
Her eyes met his, and he saw the same fire that was raging through his body at this moment. “But I want tae see all of ye, Erik.”
She was going to be the bloody death of him! “Ye first,” he countered, his other hand coming up to graze the laces on her dress. “We dinnae have a lot of time, lass.” At any moment, they could come in and get her, and he wanted just a taste, a feel to push him through the lonely night ahead.
That awoke her, and she pulled her hand away from his, reaching for her own laces. He watched as she deftly undid her dress, letting it fall down her body to the floor. His breath trapped in his lungs as he gazed upon her in her shift, the outline of her body clear in the firelight.
“Ye’re bloody gorgeous,” he said, taking in the creamy expanse of her skin.
Her flush deepened. “I dinnae know wot tae do, Erik.”
His hand reached out on its own accord and grasped her around the waist, tugging her toward him. “I got ye, lass.”
His lips covered hers, and she gasped, allowing him access to the warm recesses of her mouth. Erik felt his hand slide down to the hem of her shift, inching it up painfully to expose more creamy skin to the air. He wanted to touch her, to taste her so badly that his body ached at the thought.
When his fingers grazed her mound, she abruptly broke their kiss, her eyes wide. “Erik.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, drawing in a breath. “Aye, lass. Let me touch ye.”
Her body trembled against him, but she pressed into his fingers and he found her wetness, groaning as his fingers slid over it. “Ye’re so wet,” he growled, finding the tight nub amongst the folds. “Wet for me.”
Finley’s hands clenched at his shoulders, her nails biting into his muscles, and he pressed his lips to her neck, suckling her skin lightly. He wanted to strip her of her clothing but if he did so, Erik wasn’t so certain he could stop himself at just this. His breeks were painfully tight, his body wanting far more than he was willing to give.
But when Finley gasped in his ear, he nearly lost himself in his own breeks like an untried lad himself. Quickly he brought her to her first release, smothering her cries with his mouth lest the warriors think he was killing her too.
When her moans were quieted, he pressed his lips to her shoulder instead. “I wish I had a thousand lifetimes tae live with ye, Finley. I wish I were a different Scot, one that could give ye everything ye deserve.” The words were coming from his heart, ravaged by his first love but found to be put back together with this woman, this fierce woman in his arms that he couldn’t have. He was unwilling to give up his clan, and she was destined for greatness in hers.
They couldn’t be together.
That is, if he survived this accusation.
She pulled back, and he drank in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the way her eyes sparkled from her first passionate release. “Tell me, Erik,” she said softly, her hand sliding up to his cheek. “Tell me that ye dinnae love her.”
He let out a strangled laugh. How could she ask him that after what he had just done to her? Wasn’t it in his touch, his words?
“I dinnae love her, lass,” he said firmly. “I would never have touched ye if I did.”
Finley’s face softened, and he felt it straight to his very soul. Either he was going to die, or he was going to have to walk away from her. Either was far too painful to consider.
“I wilnae let ye die.”
He gathered her close, hoping that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart pushing the words he couldn’t say to her face. “Och, lass, I hope not.” He didn’t want to die, but Erik was unsure of exactly what he wanted to do if he was left to remain alive. Finley complicated that for him. In his past, he would have just gone back to his clan, to continue with his second-in-command duties and think of nothing else.
But Finley, she was going to be imprinted in his mind for far too long after he did leave.
Ifhe left.
