Katelyn trembled in his arms and parted her lips allowing access. And though he’d intended to take it slow—ach, he’d not intended to kiss her at all—her taste drove the very sense from him. One touch of her tongue and he took everything she could give. Each thrust of her tongue, each sigh and desperate touch made him hunger for her. But he could not take her.
To give her pleasure though… surely that was not such a dishonourable act?
He bunched her skirts in his hand, fingers brushing the smooth skin of her thigh and his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. Finn ached. Unbelievably so. But the agony would be nothing if he could but banish some of Katelyn’s torment. Now was not the time for battle or strong words. At a loss for any other way to combat it, he would use softer methods. As he kissed her, an intense, mind-numbing kiss, then manoeuvred her toward the table and lifted her. Katelyn kept her hold on his neck, apparently unwilling to release him. Her skirts remained up around her thighs giving him easy access. He broke their kiss for the briefest moment to admire her. Dishevelled hair, glossy eyes, crumpled skirts, unreasonably lush lips… His knees juddered again and he plunged a hand between her legs at the same time as gripping the back of her neck to take her mouth once more.
Heat and dampness greeted his fingers, the scent of arousal pervaded the air. He longed to draw it in, the fragrance of his sweet, sweet Katie, but alas that delicious mouth of hers would not let him. She wriggled against his fingers, begged incoherently for more, her words drowned by the forceful movements of his lips.
Legs shaking, Katelyn rocked into his hand and he circled her folds before plunging two fingers inside her. She cried out against his mouth, the sound gripping his heart. To bring Katelyn pleasure had to be the most rewarding experience of his life. He couldn’t think of a single lover who compared to her. Her open response, her delicious taste and fragrance—none could possibly compare.
Her thighs tensed and she was close. He pressed harder—with determination. Voices filtered down from outside and they both stiffened.
Gillean. And Logan, he assumed.
“Have ye seen Lady Katelyn?”
“Nay, my laird,” Logan replied.
Finn resumed his movements and she released a suppressed cry. Finn pressed his lips to Katelyn’s ear. “Hush.”
“I assumed she was abed but her chamber door is open,” Gillean continued.
“Forgive me, my laird, I havenae seen her. Mayhap she is praying?”
“This late at night?” the laird sneered.
Forcefully, Finn worked in and out of her. He would bring her such pleasure that her worries would be driven from her mind and replaced by memories of what he did to her. Even when she was married to Gillean, she’d remember him. And, by God, would he remember it too. He never wanted to forget the day Katelyn came apart in his arms.
“The kitchens mayhap?” Logan offered.
Heart pounding, he let his lips linger on her cheek as her breaths came in frantic gasps and she dropped her hands to grip at the top of his arms. He retreated further so as to watch it happen. It would take a whole army to prevent him from seeing this. Gillean certainly wouldn’t. Eyes wide, lips parted, she tensed. Her gaze never left his. The lass was braver than she realised. She didn’t hide any of it. He watched the gratification flow through her, clear in her eyes while she pulsed around him. Her legs dropped, she sagged and rested her forehead flat against his chest.
Finn withdrew slowly and fisted his hand, using the other to stroke the back of her neck. Katelyn gathered her breath and finally lifted her head. Her grateful smile made his insides squeeze.
A creak. A footstep. Finn jumped away and helped Katelyn off the table. She hurriedly rearranged her skirts as Gillean ducked into the kitchen, peering about the dim room with a raised brow.
“Lady Katelyn, what are ye doing in here?”
The smell of arousal lingered in the air. Gillean had to smell it. Finn peeked at Katelyn and saw her throat work. Hell fire, had he ruined her chances of marriage? What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t.
“I was tending to Finn,” she said suddenly and smoothly. “As ye can see,” she motioned to his lip, “he has harmed himself.”
Gillean peered at Finn who clenched his jaw. He’d all but forgotten his lip. Nodding, Gillean released a slow smile, one that reminded Finn of a wolf about to pounce on his prey.
“Careless, Finn.” He clicked his tongue and turned to Katelyn. “Ye are a caring lass it seems, but he is a grown man. I am sure he can tend to himself. ‘Tis late. Can I not escort ye to yer chambers?” He offered an arm and Finn clenched the edge of the table to keep from snapping that arm off.