“Now,” she said so quietly, he barely heard her. “Now,” she repeated forcefully.
Nodding—not trusting himself with words—he withdrew his fingers and spread out her discarded robe over the bale. He urged her down until she lay across it and settled himself between her thighs again.
Her gaze raked over him and the glint in her eyes told him she liked what she saw. He was so hard and ready for her. Her sex touched his aching shaft and they both groaned aloud.
The sensation sparked a frenzy in them, one that would only be quenched by lovemaking. Finn moved his hands to her hair, across her breasts and under her rear, moulding her to him as he stared down at her. Never had a moment been more intimate. But he couldn’t take the time to treasure it. His need for this magical woman was too great. He kissed her mouth, neck, collarbone and she wriggled against him, spreading her lips over whatever flesh she could find. Her soft lips dancing across his skin increased the throb in his body and before realising what he’d done, he found her hips again and he joined them in one short, sharp thrust.
She cried out, and he froze.
“Damnation.”
He tried to pull away but she held him there. By God, why couldn’t he have been more careful? He’d just taken her innocence like some barbarian. Somehow he remained still, his arms trembling as he held himself above her. The tight heat forced sweat to prick on his forehead. She gazed boldly up at him, as if absorbing the new sensation. The tiniest movement of her hips and her body relaxing had him making a sound in the back of his throat and he lowered himself, weight held one arm, his other hand stroking her hair.
They kissed unsteadily, picking up speed until they ravaged each other’s mouths. Finn knew Katelyn was passionate, but her reaction staggered him. He’d wager no man realised such an astounding woman lay behind her fragile, beautiful features. Mayhap he was the only man to unlock this side of her.
Finn moved erratically, with little finesse, but it seemed he could do no wrong. Her body fluttered in response. The primal rhythm overtook him, only her scent and her hot staggered breaths registered. The taste and feel of her filled his senses. Scalding gratification began to burn through his body so he slid a hand between them and rotated a finger against her folds. Her mouth slipped from his and her body tensed.
“Oh, Finn,” she cried. “Sweet Mary….”
He saw it unfold. Through the fog of his own pleasure he didn’t see it as clearly as he’d have liked but he still observed the widening of her eyes when she peaked, body shaking and bucking. Finn tucked her head into the crook of his neck, still relentlessly driving into her. She would never forget this—never forget him.
This was it for him, he realised, as the sensations boiled inside him. While the lovemaking was unlike anything he’d ever felt, it was the feeling in his chest, his feelings for this woman that made it so much more.
She continued to buck into his lunges, in spite of her exhausted state, and he helped her, using her body to bring himself to the edge and over. He spilled inside her, the fiercest release of his life.
“Finn,” she breathed in his ear, the sound wrapping around his heart.
He sagged against her, despair replacing satisfaction. What had he done?
Chapter Eight
Catriona winced and tried to rub her face. It itched. But her arms were trapped. Trapped.
Her chest compressed and she twisted frantically. A male grumble pulled her out of her panic and she froze.
Finn.
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, forcing away the sleep in her eyes. The light of dawn streamed in through the gaps in the wood and the open front of the stables. Straw prickled her skin. One strong arm and leg enveloped her, pinned her down. Her robe tangled around Finn’s legs, the green silk somehow looking impeccable against his sun kissed skin. Catriona put a hand to his shoulder and relished his warm, taut skin. Scars marred his back, some barely visible and others streaking across his perfect skin like lightning bolts—proof of his bold nature. Odd how he cared so little for his own welfare. She traced the line of muscle in his arm, marvelling at how he’d withheld that strength with her. There were moments when he’d been rough, but she trusted him to know what she needed.
Considering her body, she conceded she was paying the price now. She winced as she shifted her legs. Losing her maidenhood was never going to be pleasant, but she’d hadn’t expected such an experience. Or had she? Why else would she have given herself to him? Finn had been so considerate, in spite of his—their—desperate need for one another. Her heart dropped. How she longed to find out more. Any other lover would never match up to Finn.