He groaned as the tang of salt was replaced with the flavour of Katelyn. Her tongue tentatively met his and his body instantly inflamed, became tight with need. He hadn’t realised she would taste so good. One sample would never be enough now. He pressed deeper and relished her sharp intake of breath. That sweet, supple body grew pliant and aligned with his. Awareness of how big and strong he was seeped in. Something about Katelyn brought out his need to protect.
Removing his hand from her cheek, he trailed his fingers down her side, the heat of her skin almost scalding him. The soft swell of a breast, the indent of her waist, the line of a hip that begged to be grabbed. He needed to claim and defend this vulnerable woman so badly.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled he’d merely intended to comfort. This was not about him. That didn’t mean he could stop though. Not yet. He tilted his head to press the kiss deeper and gave in to the urge to grab her hip. His fingers pressed into the yielding flesh of her rear and he kept her close, the warmth their embrace created sending wild sensations bolting through him. Desire and possessiveness controlled his movements. Having Katelyn in his arms threatened to overcome every belief he’d carefully instilled in himself throughout the years.
A tiny whimper broke the moment. Though she didn’t seem ready to end the kiss —the nails digging into his shoulder led him to believe she was enjoying it as much as he—the reason he’d kissed her came flooding back. Gently, carefully, he slowed the kiss, touching her tongue once more and silently wishing he could repeat the experience. Then he broke away but kept her in his hold. Katelyn accepted his comfort easily and burrowed against his chest. Her arms snaked around his waist and his heart swelled at the trust this lass put in him. She barely knew him yet she was willingly sharing her grief with him. It seemed the exquisite Katelyn was stronger than she appeared.
After many torturous moments of having her flattened against him, he spoke. “Are ye well, lass?”
She nodded against his torso.
“Ye suffer with dreams,” he stated gently.
“Aye,” she whispered.
“What do ye see? Can ye tell me?”
He heard her gulp and her body stiffened so he stroked up and down her back until she relaxed again.
“Blood…” Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear her. “So much blood. The Viking...”
“Ye mean when ye were attacked…”
“Aye.”
“How long have ye been having these dreams?”
“Ever since we arrived at Kilcree,” she replied quietly. “’Twas why I swooned yesterday.”
He nodded. That explained much. Her sudden fragility, her strange moods and that fainting fit. It relieved him that it was at least not some illness. She had spent the rest of the day abed and insisted she needed no healer.
“I am consumed by demons.” Her voice hitched.
“Nay.” He tugged her back and forced her face up to his with a finger under her chin. “Nay, not by demons. Dinnae ever say such a thing again. I have seen grown men, bigger and stronger than I, taken by the same thing. They cry and whimper like bairns. Ye are stronger even than them, Katie. Any fool can see that. How many would admit to such fears and dreams? None, I’d wager.”
She dropped her gaze but he kept the finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him again. His words were seeping in, he was sure, but would they have any effect?
“I am sorry ye saw me like that.”
Finn shook his head. “Dinnae be sorry, I am glad.”
“Why did ye come?”
“I heard ye.”
“Ye could have left me.”
“Nay, I couldnae.” He secured her with a look and something inside squeezed at the sight of her spiked lashes and shimmering eyes.
Here was a woman so vulnerable and confused, and yet he still desired her more than anything. And if her kiss was anything to go by, she desired him too. But it meant little. While the kiss might have worked to calm her, it was a mistake. She stiffened, as if her thoughts had run the same route. He brushed a kiss across her head and sighed. Katelyn had a long way to go and an uncertain future ahead of her. And he would have little to do with it.
She slid out of his hold and arranged her shift around her. She probably didn’t realise that the laces on the front were loose and he spied the curve of one perfect breast as she shifted. Hands clasped tightly in front of her, she studied him with wide eyes. Even with the gilded glow of the torches, he saw the heat in her cheeks. Was she imagining similar things to him? Did she wonder how it might feel if their flesh connected? He climbed off the bed and straightened his shirt, aware of his bare legs beneath it.