Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles) (22 page)

Catriona gasped when his desperate tugs rent her chemise nearly in two so the curves of her breasts were visible to his eager gaze

“By God, Katie, ye are more perfect than I ever dreamed,” he murmured in awe.

She lifted her breasts, entreating him to touch them while the soft flesh vibrated gently with her wanting breaths. The rosy tips tightened under his scrutiny.

A smile crept across her face. “Ye dreamed of me?”

“Aye. Many a night.”

“I dreamed of ye too,” she admitted.

“Come here, my sweet lassie.” He used his hands to coax her forward, bringing her breasts to his mouth.

Finn sucked on one breast while he palmed the other, always avoiding her tight nipples. She groaned in frustration. His hips thrust up, mimicking what she longed for him to do but he appeared determined to slow things down. He moved his attention to her other breast, holding her against him now with both hands. She skimmed her hands down his sides, treasuring the flex of his muscles and waiting for that hot mouth on her aching tips. Whatever he felt for her at least she knew he desired her just as much. Rising, she tugged his shirt up and he helped her pull his garments off. His hair rumpled, his eyes softened. Catriona trailed a finger over the dips of his stomach and over the fine golden hair leading down.

“Yer so beautiful,” she murmured and he chuckled. “What? Ye dinnae think a man can be beautiful?”

He lifted those great shoulders, amusement in his gaze. “Lasses are beautiful.
Ye
are beautiful. Yer made so perfectly.” Finn ran his fingers up her sides, tracing her curves.

She smiled. “As are ye, Finn.”

Fingers flexing around his arousal, she trailed her hair over him, watched the undulation of his muscles as his breaths rasped, and licked the tip. He bucked his hips.

“By God, Katie,” he spluttered when she took him further into her mouth.

The taste and texture of him danced on her tongue. She’d heard of such a way of pleasuring a man but she did not know it could bring her pleasure too. Her body pulsed as rough fingers winnowed through her hair. Catriona took him deeper and he throbbed against her tongue. She worked up and down him, hand clasped around the base. His scent filled her nostrils, musky and masculine.

“Enough now,” he ordered, gripping her arms to pull her up. She straightened and licked her lips—savoured the taste of him. “Katie, yer enough to send a man out of his wits.”

Knowing fingers sought out her heat, rubbing and coaxing pleasure from her. She pitched against him and traced his features and body with her gaze. Never again would she have this—
have him
, she reminded herself. She had to imprint him in her memory. Finn—naked and full of desire for her. It filled her with power and strength. If she was to get through the next few seasons, she would need that strength.

“Finn,” she moaned. “Finn, I need ye. Dinnae make me wait.”

“Ach, ye know I cannae deny ye.”

He grasped her hips and drove up into her. Her cry split the air. His heat speared her, shocking and soothing at the same time. Calming her need, yet igniting a new one. Finn helped her into a rhythm and warmth coiled in her belly. He stared up at her. How she wished she knew what he was thinking. Gazing into his eyes, she could almost believe he loved her. With one look, he made her feel impossibly beautiful and amazing.

Sensation built like a growing flame. Her breaths laboured as she rode him and her skin grew slick. Perspiration shimmered on Finn’s torso. Catriona scraped her fingernails down him and he groaned.

Never again.

Never again would she have him like this. She wouldn’t feel his touch or hear his laugh. See his smile or blush under his attention. An ache gathered in her throat. Her vision became cloudy. Before she realised what had happened, tears rolled down her cheeks onto his chest.

“Katie?”

Suddenly, she was lifted from him and placed onto the bed. He leaned over her, a hand pushing away the tears from her cheek. Catriona gripped his arm and fought to keep more tears at bay. This rough warrior could never know how much his actions meant to her. Without him, the past few sennights would have been torture. He gave so much but thought so little of himself. Why could he not see he deserved another chance at happiness? Finn was
meant
to have a woman to love.

Just not her.

Eyes squeezed shut, more tears threatened to come. She pictured a future with Finn. A life filled with love and several fair haired children. If things were different—if she wasn’t lying or committed to another—would that ever have happened or would he stay forever locked behind his wall of grief?

“Katie, look at me.” He continued to smooth his callused hands over her cheek. “Why do ye cry?”

Catriona opened her eyes and gave him a weak smile. “’Tis naught.”

“I dinnae wish to make ye cry.”

She shook her head. “’Tis nae ye.”

His expression grew grim. “’Tis Gillean?”

“In a way.”

Finn paused, his hand stilling on her cheek. She searched his gaze for an answer but none came that made any sense. Deep burning love reflected in those eyes but mayhap that was only hers. Her chest clogged with emotion again, until it became unbearable.

“Dinnae speak on it anymore. Only love me, Finn.”

He nodded, throat bobbing. “Aye, that I can do.”

He coaxed her onto her side and tucked her into the crook of his legs. He palmed a breast and she released a breath of gratification. His manhood pushed against her bottom and she wriggled as the desperate ache renewed. Scraping her hair aside, his lips met the sensitive skin of her neck and the top of her spine. Catriona leaned into his kisses while he rolled and plucked a nipple. After so long desiring his touch there, it electrified her. Skin tingled and moisture gathered.

“Love me, Finn,” she begged, unsure whether she was pleading for him to fill her or simply confess his feelings.

“I will,” he whispered in her ear. “I will love ye until ye forget yer name. Until ye can think of no one but me. Ye shall remember this, Katie. Remember me. When all has changed around ye and time has passed, still ye shall think of when ye came apart in my arms.”

Who knew if his words were meant to be comforting, but comfort her they did. He was right. She’d forever carry him in her heart and he would give her the strength she needed to protect her home and do her duty. His words were the closest thing to love she’d ever heard so she vowed to treasure them.

A hand slipped between her legs, parting her for him and he slid easily into her sheath, still slick with lust. He moved his hand to her hip and clasped it so he could glide into her with ease. Whispers slid over her skin—words of affection, how beautiful she was—as he took her higher and higher. Trembling and keening, she splintered apart, a slow, full release that brought fresh tears to her eyes.

Finn’s harsh groan echoed in her ear as he gripped her tight and convulsed against her. The fingers on her hips dug in and relaxed suddenly. Warmth filled her and she sighed, limbs loosening against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she held them there, as if to keep him with her forever.

He kissed her ear. “Rest well, wee lass. I’ll stay awhile but I shall be gone before dawn.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and held him tighter.

***

With the sun creeping up behind him, Finn urged Dìleas into a gallop. When they reached the brow of the hill, he pulled her to a stop and patted her flank. Gazing down at the keep, he found himself where Katelyn had been not so long ago. He’d thought he’d lost her that day. Ach, not that he ever had her.

Filling his lungs with air, he had Dìleas set off at a wild pace. He should have been satisfied, he thought. A night of hot lovemaking shouldn’t have left him with energy burning under his skin, with a pang of hunger in his belly for more.

More Katelyn.

He had to leave. He would say his farewells to his sister and be gone this day. How could he watch Katelyn wed another? He’d been selfish enough bedding her again. Foolish enough too. Yet again, he’d spilled inside of her with no thought for her safety or future. He didn’t even know how she would explain to Gillean how she had lost her maidenhood. Women were tricky, he knew that much, but not Katelyn. He had taken all she could give and thrown her to the wolves.

He was the worst kind of a man. He’d failed to protect Alice and the babe, and now he’d failed Katelyn. Still, she would move on, have babes and live well enough. He might not trust Gillean but what could he do? He was no better for her and she was contracted to marry the man. How could he stomp in, demand Gillean relinquish her and destroy any chance of a good life for her? If he did not leave Kilcree that might be what he would do. He had to leave before he did anything even more foolish.

The breeze buffeted him, refreshing him but not removing the throb in his heart. He’d never forget her, to be sure. Had he ever met a woman so giving in bed? So divine, her fragile beauty only increased as he touched her, like a flower turning toward the sun. He smiled at the memory of those soft lips curving upward then touching him. Finn gripped the reins.

This would not do. If he wasn’t careful he’d put himself deep in his cups again. Odd how one scolding remark had taken away any hunger for wine or ale though. Likely he would always recall her light admonishment and wrinkled nose.

He cast his gaze over the castle while he rode Dìleas down a steep embankment. The sun now sat just above it, as if balancing on the ramparts. The orange glow warmed the stone. His gaze travelled to Katelyn’s window as it always did and he clenched the reins until they dug into his palm. He had to surmount this. Leaving was his only choice. Once he was back in his small cottage in Glencolum, the memories would fade. Her scent wouldn’t be able to follow him across the hills; her laughter couldn’t reach him there. She might invade his dreams sometimes though.

Nay, he’d remember her. He snorted. He’d wanted to brand himself in her memory for some sadistic reason. She’d as much as admitted she had no wish to marry Gillean. In some twisted way, he believed the memory of him—a selfish, cowardly man—would carry her through the misery of an arranged marriage. However, he thought it more likely she would forget him soon enough and he would be left with the lingering doubt.

Finn shook his head and eased the horse into a trot. Lorna needed to know he was leaving.  He vowed to avoid Katelyn if he could. And then he would be gone and Katelyn would be married.

Chapter Nine

Gillean watched Catriona closely. All throughout the morning meal, she felt his gaze on her. She yawned. Hopefully she could retreat to her chambers before long. She simply had to avoid any more talk of the wedding. Her eyes itched from crying and her body ached—but in the most beautiful way. If only the ache in her chest was the same. True to his word, Finn had left by dawn. She hadn’t seen him all morning and neither had Lorna. Had he truly gone without a word? She thought he’d meant he would leave her chambers but mayhap he meant to leave Kilcree too.

She fingered her gown as she waited for Lorna to finish speaking with Logan. They conferred by the fire pit, their words hushed but urgent. Whatever they were speaking of, she did not wish to interfere. Gillean lingered in the periphery of her vision, like a wolf eyeing his prey as he sat on a large carved chair, tucked into one corner. He had yet to say anything more than the basic greetings and that made her more nervous. Gone were the overly-friendly touches and the words that were intended to be charming. Coldness had crept over him. Here was the true Gillean, she concluded. The one she’d be marrying.

Logan swivelled on his heels and walked briskly out of the hall, a scowl on his face. Only the three of them now remained. The servants were busy in the kitchens or in the chambers making up the beds and the men-at-arms had taken up their positions while the night watchmen slept in the armoury. The silence made her clench her hands together.

Lorna shook her head and finally turned to face Catriona, a tight smile on her face. “Is all well?”

“Well enough. Is all well with ye, Lorna?” Catriona asked, noting the lines of tension around Lorna’s usually youthful eyes.

“Aye, aye.” She waved a hand. “Do ye need something? For the wedding mayhap?”

“Nay, I just wondered… I know it has no’ been long, but have we word from the coast yet?”

Lorna gave her sympathetic smile. “Nay, and be assured, as soon as we have news from Bute, I shall pass it on to ye.” She patted her hand “Ye must miss yer father very much. And yer sister… Catriona, is it?”

Catriona had to bite back the correction on her tongue. All her life she’d been correcting people when they thought her Katelyn. It was a wonder she hadn’t slipped up already but she could not do so now, not when she was so near to the end.

Hopefully.

She shrugged. “I wasnae close to my family,” Catriona confessed, “but I shouldnae wish them harm and I long for word of Bute. Besides,” she flicked a peek at Gillean, “my father should want desperately to be here for my wedding.”

“I understand. Alas, Gillean is an impatient man and may not wait much longer. He has many duties and must return home to see to them.”