by Alisa Adams
"I should stay on the floor," he said, his lips quirking into a reassuring smile that was turned brittle by the arousal burning low in his gut. "You'll be more comfortable with the bed to yourself."
"No, Finn."
For once, the nerves in her words were clear but her cheeks did not flush. Whatever she was about to ask, she was certain of her choice, neither anxious nor shamed by it.
"Finn, I mean...would you lie with me?"
He couldn't do it anymore.
That was Finn's first thought as Merith's words echoed around in his head.
He couldn't do it anymore.
He had stayed away. He had played the gentleman. He had broken from her and the dark obsession of her kiss. He had protected her as she bathed and hunted to feed her. There was a deep and dark possession in him that roared awake with every glance she sent his way. His woman. His angel.
And now she stood, dressed in nothing but a single bedsheet and watching him with eyes so bright he was drowning in them.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't argue.
He just couldn't do it anymore.
Three strides were all it took for him to clear the end of the bed. On a turn of his heel, he was looming over her, his hands finding her face once more. She shivered as the calluses on his fingers brushed over her cheeks. Rasping, like a blade over silk. She gasped as his hands burrowed deep into her hair. The wet locks twisted around his wrist, binding her to him, and then slid softly between his fingers.
"Merith."
"Yes, Finn?" She trembled.
He smiled.
"Nothing," he whispered. His breath dusted over her lips. "I just wanted to say your name."
It was her turn to smile.
"Okay..." she purred.
The taste of her was exactly as he remembered it. Soft, sweet, and as delicate as fine petals. Her mouth yielded under his, her lips molding to his shape and kiss. It begged him to be gentle.
Yet, gentle was not what Merith wanted.
Whispering touches and tender withdrawals had her moaning softly against him but soon her lips were demanding more from him. Even innocent, she knew where her body urged her to be. Like a bending willow, she flowed towards him. They came together harder, their mouths seeking and finding the same fire in one another.
Finn could no longer play the gentleman. He could not pretend to be some fancy lord of delicate sensibilities. He was a man of action, raised with goodness but forged in the heat of battle. His hands were practical, knowing, demanding. When they weren't holding handfuls of her damp hair, they were traveling her figure, trying to find her shape beneath the linen she wore as a cloak.
He kissed from her mouth to her cheek and down the line of her jaw. As soon as he nibbled against the side of her neck, Merith's entire body seemed to loosen as if she had become momentarily boneless. Her breath caught in her chest, heavy in her throat. Her eyes widened, and the linen pulled tight over her shoulders.
A rush of maleness flooded Finn's system. She was so sensitive. Every touch, every lick, every lulling encouragement down the path that led to pleasure and ecstasy was monumental to this woman. Her hands, her breath, her noises...each one reacted to him with such intensity that it only made him feel hotter.
It didn't matter what their futures held. In this moment, in this room, in this bubble of desire, she was his woman.
Finn's urges took over. His hands rushed to the sheet she held around herself. With a single touch, it was ripped from her hold, scattered to the floor.
Merith's shy and panicked gasp was lost under his kiss as he claimed her mouth once more.
It took several moments of self-restraint to have her soft and pliant beneath his touch again. He did not touch her body, did not even look at it. His hands remained on her neck and shoulders, his eyes closed, lost in their kisses.
Beneath his palms, the tension of timidity slowly eased from Merith's shoulders, and her natural desires took over once more.
Finn almost jumped when he felt her touch.
With her hands free from holding her fabric shield in place, Merith had reached out, placing a hand on his chest. Her palm and fingers were so small that, by comparison, he felt very male. Large and protective. Her touch was also cold.
Placing a hand over hers, he willed his own heat to shift into her. To have her hot and burning as much as he.
Even with his limited experience, bedding women at convenient opportunities whenever the militia set up camp near a town, Finn was more than aware that a woman in the throes of desire could burn as hot as her man. That such an act between them would be easier for her, if she was lost in the passion of it all...
* * *
Merith was drowning.
She had never thought that such a way to die would be so thoroughly pleasant, but she could not deny that it was how she felt. Finn was everywhere. His hands were on her skin, his lips on hers. His scent was in her nose, the strange moans that he made, hot in her ears. She was constantly forced to swallow, to shake out her fingers, to uncurl her toes. Her whole world was surrounded by him, controlled by him, overwhelmed by him.
And she was perfectly content to ride such waves.
Not only content. Eager.
Merith had no experience with what was happening between them. She could not understand how her insides could feel so warm and her skin so cool. She didn't know why her heart was pounding so hard it might leave her body nor why there was an ache deep in her belly. But she did not fear it.
Finn would keep her safe.
As his hands explored her body, she mirrored his touches. His large, abraded palms brushed down her sides; her own hands brushed against the muscles of his stomach. She felt the tension beneath her touch and then gasped as Finn's hands found her breasts.
Curious when she felt her nipples tighten under his fingers, Merith had not the time to wonder as Finn claimed her mouth again.
It was like an obsession. As if her lips would tingle and protest the moment he stopped kissing her, eager for his return. And each time he gave her what they needed. A promise met.
Before Merith was fully aware of what was happening, the two of them had shifted. Finn's legs had moved against hers, the brush against her thighs forcing her to step backward. She felt the cloth against the back of her legs and realized the bed was behind her.
A flicker of fear broke through the heat, broke through the dreamy haze that had saturated her mind and sated her need to run. Such a tiny thread of panic, however, was truly foolish. Finn did not permit her to remain afraid for long.
He did not push her down. He did not throw her to the bed and launch himself upon her, rakish in his demands. He did not steal what she was happy to offer. Instead, he broke their kiss and bent low...
A soft touch behind her legs and Merith was in his arms. Not willing to subject her to the fall upon the mattress, Finn lifted her from her feet and settled her upon the bed as if she were a delicate prize or piece of art.
Never a violent woman, it was Merith's constant confusion that every touch of Finn's, so soft and tender, only had her wishing for more. A rougher handling, a more passionate drive.
Refusing to allow shyness to do more than set a blush upon her face and breasts, Merith reached for the man in whose arms she felt so safe, pulling him down with her.
They were entirely lost in one another.
Merith acted in ways she had no concept of learning. She felt sensations that were both exciting and sating.
Somewhere in the entanglement of arms and legs, the blanket that had been wrapped around Finn's waist was lost, but she had not the time to take witness of her first naked male form. He was on her an instant later, soothing her anxieties and making love to her with his mouth.
Everything became a fog of desires and passions. Merith knew not what she said, how she moaned, nor understood why her arms raised above her head and her figure simply surrendered to the sensuous kisses of her man. But she knew there was nothing like being in Finn's
arms.
As they came together, there was a flash of pain, but it was lost amongst the shock and wonder of it all. Merith was struck by how it felt to have a man inside her body.
Finn was so close. He lay between her legs, he joined them at their cores, his arms were around her. His lips would not leave hers.
And then he moved.
Following his lead, Merith moved in a way that every female instinct told her was true. Her hips shifted, her back arched, and Finn sunk deeper. With every thrust of his body, every meeting shift of her hips, they stoked one another to heights of pleasure that she would never have fathomed. A curling sensation worked deep within her core, tightening and building with every movement. Yet, she was not afraid. Finn would hold her safe. He would protect her. There was nothing he could do that would injure her. He would never.
As the tension within suddenly broke, Merith felt her body light from the inside out. Falling stars raced through her veins and her lover shook above her. Their voices merged, their cries of passion as entangled as their bodies.
And as a strange sort of satisfaction, of languid but zinging energy, settled over her muscles, Merith felt as if she had found herself.
After so many days losing pieces of her life, it was here, naked and connected with Finn that she felt truly herself.
With such a comforting thought, it was only a few moments before Merith fell asleep in the arms of her hero.
15
Merith was thankful for the feelings of open joy that had sent her off to sleep that night. Such a blissful state of calm had encouraged dreams of ease.
In the hours of her slumber, she had been a little girl again, dancing through the flowered fields of her father's lands. She remembered sitting in her mother's arms, long ago, before Donella had seen to create a distance between herself and her children. At the time, her father had insisted that each of his six children were too dependent on their maternal parent; that they all needed to be alleviated of the weakness of such a connection. Donella had never been strong enough to argue.
But such sadness did not invade Merith's mind that night—only the content and joyous memories of a time before it, of the way her mother had once loved.
The longer she had slept, the more beautiful the images had become, shifting into something new. Donella's hair had become lighter, her face rounder. She had felt herself shift from one persona to the other, no longer the child but the mother. In her arms was a delicate little thing. A creature that was more imagination than reality, too perfect to be given true features. She knew only that he possessed the most beautiful eyes. Dark brown with the merest hints of green.
Merith awoke with a love in her heart so powerful she wasn't sure how her small body contained it. It flowed through her like a fever—a comfortable one—that warmed her gently and saw her mind at total ease. She was simply, and quite joyously, happy.
Until she reached out and found only an empty bed beside her.
Blinking away her sleepiness, Merith looked over to find her arm outstretched over the sheets. She sat up, clutching the linens to her chest and looking about the room. It was empty.
Her brows coming together, Merith pushed aside any fearful and fanciful notions.
She had not been abandoned, nor had anything happened to Finn.
For a moment, Merith was distracted by the force of such thoughts. They were confident, determined, and unshakeable in their beliefs. So very unlike her.
When the door opened, Merith's smile was bright with relief. Even if she knew that Finn would not leave her, seeing him return set her heart singing in her chest.
Even though he was fully dressed, Merith's gaze trailed over her lover's frame. Tall and lean, Finn moved with a confidence that she had never before noticed was sensual. The roll of his shoulders, the angle of his hips...
Merith gasped as the rhythm of her heartbeat started up between her legs. As if her most feminine secrets were calling to her lover...
"Good...morning," she said, trying to distract herself. She drew her thighs together beneath the sheets and felt a blush break out across her face.
Finn smiled at her but somehow it did not feel right. Merith felt a sense of foreboding start to prickle at the back of her mind.
"Good morning."
In Finn's hands was a tray. A dish sat atop it, steaming with freshly made porridge. A fresh apple was set beside it, mottled with red and green skin. It reminded her of Ajax's hide; never able to be one color or the other but a merge of grey and white.
Finn watched her with a look that was different from his norm. The night before, they had met one another's gaze, fallen into each other's eyes as ecstasy had taken hold of their bodies. It had been beautiful, naked, and true. Now, he looked at her with a distance, a sense of guardedness that made her feel cast out.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, surprised that her voice had not trembled.
Finn continued to watch her. His eyes flared with heat as they looked over her wanton wayward hair and the bare skin of her shoulders and back. But the heat was extinguished a moment later.
"Everything is fine," he answered, smiling again. This one was a little closer to his normal grin but it still missed the mark.
Merith frowned.
Fine. If he would not speak with her over his worries, then she would not force the situation. She was too content to let his bad mood infect her.
Pushing aside her disappointment that the morning had not begun with soft and loving caresses or whispered secrets, Merith reached for the tray he offered her and ate quickly, heedless of her state of undress.
An hour later, they were on the road, headed south once more.
Merith's head had practically spun on her shoulders at the speed with which Finn had packed their few items, secured Ajax's tack, and herded her from the room in which they had each found joyous oblivion. As if he were trying to run away from what they had done the night before, Finn returned to his position as guardian of the horse's reins, walking beside the animal inside of joining her in the saddle.
Instead of fear and depression, Merith's worries only served to stoke her irritation.
What was going on?
Had she imagined the night before? Had she made up that they had found such bliss together? That they had fallen into the physical act of love with such skill and joy that she could only assume that their hearts were just as entwined? Was she naive to think that such loving could only be had when the lovers were hopelessly in love? Was she blind to think that her feelings were returned?
For Merith, everything was blissfully simple.
She loved Finn with everything she had. She loved his strength and his courage, his tenderness, and his smile. She loved that, even in the early hours of their acquaintance, he had joked with her before remembering her rank; how human connection was his natural instinct over the preservation of social rank. She loved the way he cared. That he was an honorable man that had left his profession to keep a stranger safe. The fact that he had loved her with all the tenderness and passion that even her fantasy heroes could not have managed was only the final proof that her choice was the right one. She was hopelessly in love with Finlay Dunne.
Marriage was the only possible future that Merith was able to consider, sitting there atop Ajax's steady gait.
It was a fact of her birth and reality that many women of her rank would be forced into loveless marriages—arrangements such as the one she had held with Alastair Mackay. And Merith had been content to accept such a thing in her own life. But, four days ago, she had not been in love with another. There had been no one in her heart already, no shadow of passion in her mind. She had not known what it felt like to be taken by a man. By a man she loved. Now, her world was different. And the idea of being married to another, of experiencing the coupling that she had last night with another person—with any person that was not Finn—was an idea that would not be borne. She could not even reconcile it within her own head.
For her, it
was Finn or no one.
An optimism buoyed by lingering passion and sensual satisfaction had Merith holding to the idea that such a love would be enough. That, if she could simply explain her heart, her parents would accept such a union and permit her to marry a soldier.
Of course, that was if Finn wished to. Because, right now, he appeared anything but joyously in love. And the way that such an attitude was a drain on her own buzzing happiness was only serving to irritate Merith further.
"What is wrong, Finn?" she asked from the back of the horse. "You have been distant with me since this morning. What have I done?"
"Nothing!" The word left Finn's mouth on a wave of surprise. As if he were confused about why she would ever attribute his mood to something she had done.
"Is this about yestereve? Did I do something that you did not like?"
Merith was embarrassed to even ask the question, but her shame was worth mending the gap that had formed between the two of them. She could not bear the distance any longer.
"Good God, no!"
Merith found that she believed him. He had held her close in the night. She had felt him as she had stirred, his arms wrapped around her and drawing her close to his heart. Surely, he would not have cuddled her so tenderly if she had displeased him as a lover? Merith's pride was glad to hear the assurance but she was still no closer to discovering the real reason behind his distraction.
"Then speak with me. Will you not tell me why the man that looked at me with such lo—" She cut herself off. Finn had never told her that he loved her. She could not put words in his mouth. The arrogance of such an assumption—the hopeful, wishful assumption that lingered in her heart—would not serve her well.
"Do you not think me confused as to why such a man will now not look at me at all?"
Finn turned to look at her. The action was deliberate, and did nothing to settle her worries.
