Chapter Nineteen
Willamina awoke tosoft kisses trailing along her neck, and warm hands kneading her breasts. Finlay was behind her, his chest flush against her back. His manhood hard against her buttocks.
“I didna mean to wake ye, lass,” he whispered into the faint light in the room, and nipped at her ear.
She smiled. “I believe ye fib, sir,” she teased and wiggled her bottom, causing him to hiss in her ear. She moved to turn around, but he stopped her.
“Nay, lass. Stay just like that.” He maneuvered his body and entered her from behind.
Her breath caught on a gasp. The sensation from this angle completely different than afore. He buried his face into her neck and nuzzled as he thrust into her.
Once she figured out the rhythm, she gyrated her hips, matching his thrust for thrust. His lips moved to her ear, and he grunted with each pump of his strong hips. His arms were locked around her waist, keeping her in place.
That now familiar feeling began to build. Finlay must have sensed it, too, because he spoke in the darkness. “Come on, Mina. Let yourself go. Join me.”
He pumped at a hurried pace, and dropped a hand to her nestle of curls, finding that little nub of sensations and applied pleasure as he rubbed it in fast circles.
Her breaths were short, hot. She was climbing that mountain again. And then his other hand pinched her turgid nipple, and she was gone. Bucking, thrashing her legs out as he continued to drive his hips forward. Calling her name over and over again. Until he was tumbling with her, his body stiffening behind her as he ground out her name one last time.
Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, and she felt him chuckle behind her. “That was verra nice.”
She couldn’t help but laugh in agreement. “Aye. ’Twas indeed.”
It seemed to take them longer to catch their breaths this time, but soon, her lids grew heavy and she slipped into a dreamless oblivion, Finlay’s scent and arms enveloping her.
When she woke later, she was unsure of the time. Finlay slept soundly beside her. He was on his stomach, his arm draped around her waist. For a moment, she listened to his soft breathing and studied his handsome features in the waning light of the fire, burning them into her mind’s memory. At some point during the night, he must have gotten up and added logs to the fire for it to still be going.
Careful not to wake him, she gingerly extracted herself from his arm and slipped from the bed. Quietly, she gathered her things and dressed as best she could without making a racket and waking Finlay. Pulling her cloak on, she tied it around the neck and grabbed her overnight bag.
Looking back at the bed, her heart threatened to shatter into a thousand pieces. She took a deep breath and grasped the doorknob, pausing for another look. Her emotions warred within her. She was leaving the only man she had ever loved. Aye, loved. She knew that now.
If she didn’t walk out the door now, she never would. But it was hard mustering up the courage to walk away forever. Shehad finally found someone that made her happy, only to have him cruelly ripped away from her. Fate was a fickle thing.
Needing to make haste and worried that she was losing the courage to do what was right, she pushed open the door. The loud creak echoed through the room and she froze, daring a look at Finlay, but he still slept peacefully, undisturbed.
He was going to be so angry when he woke. Mayhap even hurt. But it was the right thing to do. He would eventually find someone to love. The thought made her insides scream, but she couldn’t be selfish. She had to do what was right for Finlay.
Closing the door behind her, Willamina made her way down the hall and the two flights of stairs. A wall clock struck six times. She had slept in later than she wanted to. All due to how sated Finlay made her feel. And she would never forget the feeling of sleeping beside him, his strong arms wrapped around her body, his nose nuzzled into her neck.
She shook her head. These thoughts would serve her no purpose right now. The man that had checked them in the previous night entered from one of the back rooms at the sound of Willamina’s descent.
“My lady, is something amiss?” he asked, concern creasing his forehead.
“Nay,” she answered, shaking her head as she set down her bag. “Do ye have paper and quill, sir?”
“Of course, one moment.”
Taking a seat in one of the stuffed chairs, she folded her hands in her lap, unable to stop herself from looking at the stairs. She half expected to see Finlay come running down them.
When the innkeeper returned with the items she’d asked for, she thanked him, and scribbled a quick note to Finlay. She couldn’t just leave with no explanation to him. Guilt and shame flooded through her already. She didn’t need to add more stress to the situation.
Folding the note in a neat square, she wrote Finlay on the front, then removed a ribbon from her hair and tied it around the paper.
She handed the note to the man and returned the ink and quill. “Can you ensure that Lord Primrose gets this note when he comes down later this morn?”
The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed at her request, but he nodded and took the note from her hand, putting it into a nearby drawer.
“Thank ye.” And with that, she walked out of the inn, each step taking her further and further from Finlay. From the life they could have had.
