Unwanted (12 page)

She didn’t stop until his hand tightened in her hair and pulled her away from him.
 

Finn’s shoulders slumped forward and he shook greatly as one last tremor ripped through his massive frame.
 
Though the ecstasy had released its hold on his body, his manhood remained full and strong.
 

His firm grip on her hair held
Rhona
immobile on her knees.
 
She licked his essence from her lips.
 
Her limbs were weak and shook with arousal and need.
 
Her womanhood ached and throbbed with a new intensity.
 
She wanted to shamelessly rub against him like a cat in frantic heat.

Finn’s eyes, at once feral and desperate with passion, began to warm and clear as he tracked the movements of her tongue.
 

“Gods, woman,” he panted.
 
Eyes never leaving her lips, he bent down to her, bringing their faces so close that they shared the same air.
 
She rested her forehead against his, energy arcing between their bodies, as though small bits of pleasure leapt from his skin to land upon hers.

Her nose leaned against his and she closed her eyes.
 
His lips were right there.
 
So close.
 
That angelic, broad, sinful mouth.
 
The one that had pleasured her so methodically and entranced her so thoroughly would surely claim her now.
 
Thank her for his pleasure with a tender kiss.
 
She knew he wanted to.
 
She could feel the desire emanating from him.
 
All he needed to do was to close the gap between their open mouths and…

Rhona
found herself gripped by his strong hands and suddenly facing the opposite direction, bent over on her hands and knees.
 
Her eyes flew open and she gasped as Finn seized her hips from behind and swiftly buried himself to the root in her throbbing depths.

Pleasure immediately exploded from where they joined as she was stretched and invaded in this new and primitive way.
 
He kept his thrusts slow and strong as she shivered and convulsed in agonizing ecstasy, covering her sobs with both hands as she supported her weight with her elbows.

His strokes increased in pressure and speed after the intensity of her climax had passed.
 
Rhona
was certain that it took all the strength she possessed not to collapse into a puddle of boneless satisfaction.
 
But as he drilled into her body, the hard planes of his hips pounding against the yielding softness of her bottom,
Rhona
could feel another wondrous storm already brewing in her loins.
 

As his thrusts became more demanding, he bent over her and brought his arm around her to delve his fingers into her cleft and brush against the bundle of sensation that nestled there.
 
He plucked it with his fingers, thrumming the wet, engorged nub until another jolt of pleasure screamed through her with all the speed and strength of a lightning bolt.
 

She bucked against him, her traitorous body trying to escape the intensity of the pleasure that bordered on pain.
 
And yet, she reveled in it.
 
Knowing that it must end soon or she’d die of it.
 
Her blood would cease to flow.
 
Her heart would cease to beat.
 
Her chest would cease to draw breath as the strength to do so would all be drained from her by this beast burying himself within her against and again.

Pressing her face against her mattress, she bit down, releasing her cries into the linens.
 
She was dimly aware of his grip on her hip becoming painful and the desperate sound of his muffled groan against her back.
 
 

As the storm began to pass, she wondered if there would be anything left of either of them when dawn finally decided to break, heralding the end of their night together.
 
 
 

Finn squinted down at the babe wrapped so tightly in his fur-lined cloak and frowned.
 
He hadn’t exactly thought this through when he’d swaddled him thus.
 
How was he going to slip away with it?
 

His eyes slid to
Rhona
, who curled tightly onto her side, hair covering her face as she breathed deeply in repose.
 
A tight band of sorrow squeezed the air from his chest.

She could keep it.
 
Along with the gold she would find inside.
 
He wanted something to warm her.
 
Perhaps, when she put it on she would remember him fondly.
 

With a careful, painful breath, Finn crouched to retrieve his weapons from each side of the slumbering child.
 
The sword came free without a hitch, but the bundle shifted when he moved his axe, and a tiny squeak emerged.

Finn looked down into the clear blue of the child’s open eyes and cursed.

The babe’s breathing sped and he opened his wee toothless mouth to, no doubt, emit some godforsaken sound.

Snatching him up, Finn frantically begged the lad in a whisper to keep quiet.
 
Short of smothering him to death with his hand, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what else to do.
 

Another plaintive squeak from the babe accompanied a strong kick of his legs.
 
Inside his bindings, the child wriggled and fussed and Finn instantly set to freeing his limbs.
 

When his skinny arms were flailing about in the narrow slants of morning light, a sigh that could only be called appreciative lifted and fled the child’s narrow chest.

Followed by a sneeze.
 
 

Wiping the offending moisture from his face, Finn grunted a warning at the babe.
 

Who in turn grunted back at
him.
 

The sound was so absurd that Finn felt the corner of his mouth twitching.
 
Walking with the boy over to the fireplace, he avoided the noisy chair to crouch at a safe distance from the heated coals.
 

If the lad was nearly naked, the cold morning air couldn’t be healthy for him.
 
Almost no insulation covered his frail bones.
 
God’s teeth, the child’s arm had to be as thin as Finn’s own thumb.
 

Finn leaned his face down to truly inspect the child while the babe seemed content to engage in a staring contest and flap his arms about like a deranged game hen.
 
It was inconceivable that all of mankind started out so small.
 
So weak and guileless.
 
Dependent on the goodwill of others for survival.
 

Rhona
had been right; it was nothing short of miraculous.
 

Finn’s head jerked with the child’s sharp tug on his hair and he grunted again.
 
Obviously, the babe wasn’t as weak as he looked.

Carefully extracting the strands from the child’s unyielding grip, he found his pinky captured with the other hand.

Five perfect, tiny fingers barely spanned the width of his smallest one.
 
He tugged on his hand trying to release it, uncomfortable with the warm feeling that settled in his chest.
 
The babe tugged back and somehow Finn’s finger ended up in the slimy, toothless mouth.
 

He frowned.
 
The lad’s grip was surprisingly strong.
 
He would someday hold a sword with ease and skill.

But who would teach him to wield it?

Finn glanced up at the bed and froze.
 
Rhona
sat with the furs clutched to her chest, her hair curling wildly around her, and a disconcerting glitter of moisture in her eyes.

She blinked it away, lifting a hand and smoothing it over the unruly copper mass.

Finn liked her hair like that.
 
It reminded him of the many times he’d taken her over the course of the night.

A slight pink blush crawled up her chest and settled in her cheeks.
 
Perhaps she was remembering how she’d slung her leg over his waking body and ridden them both to oblivion only a few short hours ago.
 
He’d watched the silver streaks of dawn break on her glorious breasts while she’d come for him.
 

His body hardened at the memory, and he looked down at the innocent boy in his lap who somehow owned a piece of his soul along with his finger.

Finn opened his mouth to tell her that he was leaving now.
 
That she wouldn’t see him again.
 
That his Goddess had sent him to his doom and he must obediently oblige or be forever damned.
 

What came out was, “He needs a name.”

“I agree.”
 
She sounded pleased, which brought Finn an absurd amount of joy.
 
 
“Did you have one in mind?”

Finn looked up in time to see the shift she’d snatched from atop her trunk lower over her pale, naked body.

“No,” he had to fight to keep the groan out of his voice.
 
After witnessing that, how could he think of anything else?
 

The woman gingerly crawled off the bed as though using untried muscles and padded over to them, leaning down to caress the baby’s cheek.
 

Finn could smell his own scent on her.
 
He found that he hoped she didn’t wash off his scent for a good long while.
 
It marked her as his.
 

His blood heated and he bunched some of the fabric of her shift in his hands.
 
“I want you again,” he demanded.
 

She put a hand to her cheek, then her chest and refused to meet his eyes as she flushed.
 

“We can’t,” she informed him.
 
“He’s awake.
 
It wouldn’t be… I just couldn’t.”

Finn glared down at the child, who’d begun gnawing on his finger in earnest.
 
It was the strangest sensation, but not unpleasant.
 
He found himself wondering when a man started to grow teeth.
 
 

“I’ll turn him like this,” he suggested, facing the babe toward the door.
 

Rhona
gifted him with the warmest, most blindingly beautiful smile he’d ever witnessed in his life.
 
It reminded him of the sun peeking over the mountains at dawn.
 
The sparkle of her eyes as vibrant and electric as his northern lights.
 
“If you can free your grip from his, I’ll be more than happy to oblige you.”

Finn gave his hand a gentle tug, then stronger, dislodging his finger from the babe’s mouth.
 
A disturbing squeal pierced his sensitive ears and he plugged the mouth with his finger, effectively cutting it off.
 

“
’Tis
what I thought.
 
You keep him busy,” she ordered in that sweet, melodious voice, studying the angle that the light slanted into the room.
 
“It might be too late for breakfast, but I’ll make it, anyhow.”
 
With that, she disappeared through the tiny door and into the stables.

Finn knew this was his chance.
 
He should place the babe on the mattress, leave coin on the hearth, and duck out.
 
If he left for Castle Lachlan now, they’d be mounting his limbs on the battlements by the time she embarked for her own appointment.
 

Sighing, he looked down.
 
He might have to cut off his own finger before the little one released it back to his keeping.
 
Also, no one had ever cooked him breakfast before.
 
At the temple, he wasn’t allowed to eat with the men and therefore had to procure his own food.
 

Why not enjoy a last meal prepared by a beautiful woman?