She opened her mouth to point that out to him, but then sucked in a surprised breath when his lips went to the base of her neck. His hands were on her—gentle, then firm, caressing, yearning—roaming over her breasts and hips and gown.

  Then her gown was gone, and her chemise and stockings as well, and all she could focus on was the glorious, maddening sensations his hands wrought upon her.

  Then his fingers were there, burrowing in her curls, as his mouth closed around one of her nipples. It was so much better than when he’d kissed her through her chemise, because now, she could feel his whiskers against her sensitive skin, and the sensation drove her wild.

  “Finn!” she begged, not completely sure what she was pleading for.

  “Aye, lass,” he whispered against her skin, his lips trailing over her breast, “tell me.”

  She arched her back under his caresses. “I want—I want to touch ye. I want to explore ye.”

  ‘Tis what she’d set out to do that evening, after all.

  In a flash, he peeled himself off her, flattening himself beside her on the bed. With his full body on display, his cock jutting upward, all straight and proud.

  “Explore all ye want, my love,” Finn growled.

  Suddenly shy, Fiona pushed herself upright, unable to deny her curiosity. He was magnificent, splayed out as he was, simply to assuage her curiosity.

  As she skimmed a light touch down his flank, his hands curled into fists around the coverlets at his side, but that was the only indication he gave to show he was affected. When she stole a glance at him, nibbling on her bottom lip, he was watching her.

  The fact he hadn’t tried to stop her—the fact he was offering himself like this—made her feel bolder.

  Her fingers skimmed across his thighs, then over his curls. He jerked just slightly when she cupped his bollocks again, feeling their weight against her palm, as she experimented with his stiff member. She wrapped one thumb and forefinger around it, marveling at the way it felt like velvet…velvet wrapped around steel.

  His cock had a freckle, a large one, right on the tip. It was impossible to look away from.

  Slowly, she dragged her hand up his shaft, then down again. His breath hissed between his lips, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from her work to see his reaction. It was fascinating to realize she’d been the one to cause this magnificent member to stiffen.

  A bead of moisture had gathered at the tip, and her lips parted, breathless. She knew what this meant, of course, but seeing it was different from hearing about a man’s desires and pleasures.

  That ache was back, deep in her core, and she shifted on the bed, desperate for relief. The movement brought her closer to him, her eyes transfixed on that freckle at the tip of his cock.

  What would it taste like?

  Salty, like his skin?

  Or sweet, like his love?

  She was leaning closer, lips parted farther, when he grabbed her elbow.

  “Fiona,” he growled. “If ye do that, I’ll no’ be able to make ye mine.”

  When she straightened and glanced up at him, he was breathing heavily.

  “I want to be inside ye, love.”

  The thought of not being able to taste him was disappointing, but she couldn’t deny the surge of heat at his words. Another time, she promised herself.

  “I want that too,” she whispered.

  His nod was brief, aye, but she felt as if he were giving her a blessing. He released her arm, then rested his head back on the mattress.

  Taking a deep breath, she threw one leg over his thighs, until she was straddling his hips. Her curls cradled his stiff member, and as she pressed herself forward, his firmness made her aware of just how wet she was.

  Experimentally, she leaned toward his chest, dragging her damp slit along his cock. The friction was delightful, made even better by the strangled noise he made. When she did it again, his fingers dug into the coverlets by his side, his jaw clenched as he breathed deeply, deliberately.

  “Is this aright, Finn?”

  “Aright?” he repeated hoarsely, his eyes honest. “If it were any better, I’d be dead, lass.”

  His admission made her smile, and she knew she was ready.

  And because he’d given her the power, she could be the one to make that decision.

  So she shifted herself up and over his cock, then slowly sat back. She lowered herself around him, each inch bringing a tightness and burn she hadn’t expected. She’d known there would be pain, but this was—

  “Breathe, lass.”

  It wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she realized she’d closed them. She was stiff, frozen, her muscles clenched as her entire being focused on the throbbing in her core.

  But there was concern in his gaze. “Fee, just breathe.”

  When his fingers skimmed over her knee, then her thigh, she exhaled.

  “It’ll be aright, love. I swear it.”

  His touches continued, feather-light, across her thighs. She inhaled. Then exhaled again.

  And felt her muscles slowly loosen.

  This is aright.

  As she relaxed against him—atop him—she found it was easier to breathe. And somehow, the pain wasn’t quite so intense. In fact, the throbbing seemed to be centered differently now, causing her to want to move.

  His touches continued up her side to her breasts, and they felt wonderful.

  Sighing, she arched into his touch as his thumbs circled her nipples, and the movement caused his member to shift inside her.

  That felt even better.

  With wide eyes, she did it again, just the slightest little rocking motion, and released a breathless whimper.

  Saints be praised, that felt wonderful.

  By the fourth time she rocked back and forth atop his cock, she realized he’d frozen, his hands on her breasts. Glancing down, she realized the muscles of his jaw had gone tight, and he appeared to be in pain.

  Worried now, she halted her movement. “Does that feel aright?”

  With a strangled whisper, he admitted, “It feels as if I’ve died and gone to heaven. Dinnae stop.”

  She bit her lip. “Then why do ye look as if—

  “Because I’m trying to keep from taking command,” he growled. “I’ve waited for this for months, but tonight is about ye.”

  It was sweet.

  It was stupid.

  “The last time ye came to me in this room, Finn Oliphant, ye gave me pleasure. Tonight, I want us both to find pleasure.”

  He didn’t even argue. Just growled an, “Aye” and bucked his hips slightly, driving his swollen member deeper inside and causing her to suck in a gasp at the sensation.

  It had felt good to move atop him, but it felt even better for him to move in her.

  So she leaned forward, placing her palms against the mattress on either side of his shoulders, and met his eyes. “Do that again,” she commanded.

  And he did.

  Oh.

  Oh my.

  As Fiona braced her knees on either side of his hips and took her weight on her palms, Finn slid in and out of her in the most delicious tempo. She swallowed, arching her pelvis into him, to create even more friction, as he grasped her hips with a guttural groan.

  They were both panting, and she could feel herself coming apart at the edges, like a frayed cloth pulled too hard.

  “Finn!” she gasped, not sure what she was asking.

  He didn’t stop, but pressed up into her so hard, she moaned.

  “Finn! Now! Please!”

  And miracle of miracles, he understood her gasping plea.

  With a guttural roar, he flipped her over. She had no idea how it happened, except one moment she was staring down at him, and the next she was on her back, his hands grasping her knees, and his cock slamming into her once more. The sensation was so powerful, so wonderful, her arse came up off the bed as she planted her heels and offered herself to his pleasure.

  But he leaned forward, mimicking her pose from a moment before, and the pressure of him against the sensitive spot above her wetness caused white flashes behind her eyes.

  She realized she was holding her breath, but couldn’t seem to make herself release the muscles to force her lungs to work. All she knew was that she…was…almost…there.

  Then, his breaths coming in pants, he reached between them to the place where they were joined, and dragged one callused thumb across the center of her pleasure.

  Her climax burst upon her, every part of her body tightening around him, squeezing him closer. The sensation must have coaxed him, because he called her name as he threw his head back, and a flood of warmth spilled against her womb.

  That knowledge—or mayhap the way he continued to leisurely stroke in and out of her—prolonged her pleasure.

  But much too short a time later, the two of them collapsed, spent and panting, in one another’s arms.

  It was everything.

  Finn took the time to untangle himself, then slipped away to dip a rag in the bowl of water near the window. When he climbed back in bed, he lovingly cleaned her, pausing when the evidence of her virginity came away on the cloth.

  His fierce look of pride as he spotted those drops of blood had her flushing—partly from embarrassment, partly from remembered pleasure.

  But then he tossed the rag aside, pulled down the coverlet, took her in his arms, and wrapped them both under the blanket. As they cuddled there beneath the linen, her cheek and ear pressed against his chest, and his chin resting atop her head, Fiona felt herself smile.

  For the first time since she’d met Finn, all her doubts were gone.

  She loved him, and he loved her. They would marry and be able to do this many more times.

  Her smile grew as his heart beat under her skin.

  This was perfect.

  Chapter Ten

  Finn awoke before dawn, the familiar surroundings now feeling different.

  Mayhap ‘twas because of the naked angel in his arms. Or mayhap he was different.

  He was going to be married and couldn’t be happier.

  Last night, he’d finally made Fiona his, and their joining had been as perfect as he’d expected. After they’d both recovered from their first time, he’d set about showing her some of the ways a man and a woman could bring one another pleasure, and he didn’t think he’d ever forget the way her climax had exploded over his tongue when he’d used his mouth on her.

  But now…?

  Now she slept soundly, curled on her side like a kitten. He imagined he could hear her purring in satisfaction, being well-pleased and well-loved.

  And as for him?

  Well, he’d be even happier once she was his wife.

  For now though, it likely wouldn’t do for someone—someone like her sister—to discover them in bed before the ceremony. So, reluctantly, Finn slid from the bed, but not before leaning over to place a light kiss on her cheek.

  Fiona didn’t stir.

  He made short work of folding and belting on his plaid, then gathering up his things. He did take the time to pull on his boots and strap on his scabbard, so if any of his family found him sneaking around the corridors before the rest of the keep was awake, they wouldn’t guess what he’d been doing.

  Actually, if it were his brothers who caught him, they’d likely guess after just one look at the satisfaction in his eyes.

  But he wasn’t going to bother denying it. Fiona was now his, in every way but marriage. Surprisingly, over the last few days he’d spent frantically trying to convince her to agree to be his wife, Finn hadn’t been thinking of Da’s ultimatum. The idea of Fee carrying his child, of giving him sons, wasn’t as appealing, because it would mean becoming laird.

  Nay, Finn had realized something important: laird or not, it was the building of a life with Fiona by his side which mattered. He wanted her for her, not for the position or power she might bring him by birthing a son.

  He loved her, and she loved him, and that was that.

  No one else was usually awake at this hour, so he was surprised to step into the great hall and see a figure sitting at the high table. With the sky still dark outside the windows, it was hard to tell who it was, but Finn had a hunch…

  As he got closer, he realized he was right. His twin brother Duncan sat hunched in the semi-darkness, fiddling with the bowl of porridge in front of him.

  “Welcome home, brother,” Finn said in a low voice as he slid onto the stool across from Duncan.

  His twin was mid-bite, but even that couldn’t hide the irritated pull of his brows. Finn knew his brother would be frowning, if he weren’t eating.

  “What are ye—”

  Finn bit off his words when an eerie pounding drifted through the wall closest to them. Both brothers turned to scowl at the stone, as if it personally were at fault.

  “ ’Tis impossible to tell if ‘tis the drummer, or the English come back to make trouble for us,” Finn muttered.

  “By St. Simon’s left nostril, this shite is getting ridiculous,” Duncan growled in response. “ ’Tis getting where a man cannae sleep.”

  Is that why Dunc looked so irritated?

  His rest had been interrupted by the drummer, who apparently doomed men to fall in love?

  Ignoring his growling stomach—and the ghostly rhythm, which was now moving off to bother another section of the keep—Finn planted his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together.

  “Have ye heard him all night?”

  Duncan shrugged, scooping up another bite of porridge. “I just got back. Headed to the kitchens for something to break my fast with.”

  Hmm. So if he hadn’t been here all night, then that meant Duncan had heard the Drummer of Oliphant Castle prior to his trip. And if Aunt Agatha’s theory was correct, then he was dooooooomed to fall in love as well.

  Finn’s lips twitched, wondering if his brother was scowling now because of whatever woman had captured his heart.

  But as he watched Duncan shovel another large spoonful of the honey-sweetened porridge into his mouth, Finn’s stomach growled loudly. When his twin glanced up at him, Finn grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

  “I have an appetite this morning,” he offered as an excuse.

  Duncan looked as if he wanted to say something—was he going to question where Finn had been all evening?—but at that moment, Moira appeared at Finn’s elbow.

  “Good morning, Finn,” she said with a soft smile, as she placed a bowl of porridge before him. “I thought ye might be hungry.”

  Catching the older woman’s hand, he brought it to his lips for a grateful kiss. “Ye’re a goddess, Moira. Ye needn’t wait on the likes of me though. Why are ye even awake at this hour?”

  To his surprise, the housekeeper blushed. The sunrise offered just enough light to make out the way her cheeks darkened as she lifted her free hand to pat at her bun. Come to think of it, her hair was in disarray, as if she’d just come from bed.

  The older woman stammered something about seeing to the kitchens and hurried off.

  Finn met his twin’s gaze with a raised brow, but Dunc just shrugged and went back to his breakfast. Finn joined him until his hunger was satiated, and he felt his energy returning from his night of loving Fiona.

  “So just got home, eh?” Duncan grunted in agreement. “So why are ye looking like a frog in the garderobe? Did ye no’ get to Larg in time for yer Master?”

  Dunc sighed and tossed his spoon into his now-empty bowl. “Nay, I got there, and Master Claire’s health is improving each day. I stayed in order to help with a few commissions. But now the Master is sending me to Eriboll to pick up some of her completed works.”

  “Why?” St. Ninian’s knees, but this porridge was good!

  His twin scowled. “One of the Master’s clients has died, and his widow needs funds. She offered Claire the chance to buy back the pieces—mainly jewelry—which the man had commissioned. So I get the duty of traveling to purchase them back.”

  “And ye dinnae want to bother with the trip?” Finn shrugged, answering his own question. “But ‘tis logical ye be the one to go; ye are skilled with a sword, even if ye dinnae care to use one, and ye can recognize the pieces to make sure there’s nae cheating.”

  “Aye,” Duncan grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  In the growing light, Finn narrowed his eyes as he examined his twin’s mood. “Unless…’tis no’ the journey which has ye looking as if ye swallowed bannock dry.”

  His twin blew out a loud breath. “ ’Tis a woman, of course.”

  “Of course,” Finn murmured, hiding his smile behind a spoonful of breakfast.

  But one of Dunc’s hands slammed down on the wooden tabletop. “Ye dinnae need to smirk, ye ken, just because ye’ve had luck with a lady.”

  “Hold!” Finn pointed his spoon at his brother’s nose. “ ’Twas no’ so simple as to be dismissed. It has taken me every day since ye left to convince her to go through with marrying me. I eventually had to go to Mam and urge her to talk to Fiona on my behalf.”

  Duncan snorted. “Poor ye.” He waved toward Finn’s face. “A blind man could see from yer stupid grin ye’ve overcome her objections.”

  “Stupid grin?”

  “Ye look well and truly satisfied.”

  Finn shrugged, knowing he was still smiling. “I like to think I satisfied her.”

  When his brother snorted again and folded his arms, Finn leaned forward. “Are ye going to tell me what woman has ye acting so prickly?”

  For a long moment, he wasn’t sure Duncan would agree. Finally, his twin shrugged his shoulders and tipped his head back, his hair—the same shade and length as Finn’s—falling across the back of his chair.

  “As I was saddling my horse to leave Oliphant Castle, a pretty lass came into the stables.” Duncan’s eyes closed, one corner of his lips twitching upright in that wry way he had. “She kenned a lot about horses, and we discussed her gelding—an animal almost as pretty and as feisty as she.”

  “Ye dinnae ken the lass?”

  Dunc shrugged. “I assumed she was with the MacIan party, but…”

  When he trailed off, Finn dropped his spoon into his bowl. “Aye?” he prompted.

 

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