20 LUST AND LOATHING

ASTRID TOOK A slow, steadying breath. Lord, the man was vexing. How she wanted to slap him, yet her father had always told her that raising one's fists when a discussion turned heated was a sign of poor wits—a sign someone was out of their depth.

But the truth was that she was out of her depth.

She hadn't gotten all the support Loch needed. She knew it, and so did Finn.

And he'd never let her forget it.

"Loch made a mistake sending ye with me," she said, her fists balling at her sides. "I need someone who'll support me in meetings, not undermine me."

"God's troth, ye'd test the patience of a saint." His eyes glinted green with sudden anger. "There isn't a man in Scotland with the fortitude to suffer ye, woman!"

A red veil dropped over her gaze at this insult, and without thinking, she shoved him hard in the chest. "Cur!"

Finn's hands snapped up, and he caught her by the wrists. Then, instead of answering her insult, as she'd expected, he pulled her against him.

An instant later, his mouth collided with hers.

The suddenness of the move surprised Astrid, and she gasped. Finn answered with a groan, his tongue sweeping her lips apart.

Their kiss on the beach earlier that day, when they'd spied the ship approaching, had been thrilling—but right from the first moments, this one was different. It was hot and demanding, almost as if Finn was issuing her a challenge.

Ever since that first kiss, tension had been building between them—their argument now had merely stoked a fire that neither of them wished to acknowledge .

And it shocked Astrid to the core that she answered him without hesitation. Her lips grazed his lips, her tongue stroking his.

The kiss quickly grew wild.

Another groan rumbled in Finn's throat, and he hauled her closer still. Earlier, a maid had helped Astrid dress, and brushed her hair with a hog-bristle brush before pinning half of it up and letting the other half tumble down her back.

Finn deftly removed the pins now, and they pinged as they hit the floor. He then carded his fingers through her hair, gently entwining his hands in it. Meanwhile, Astrid's hands slid up his chest to where his lèine parted at the throat. Lord, his skin was so hot, and his body pressed against hers was deliciously hard. Finn's nearness made her senses reel. The feel of his mouth devouring hers, and the taste of him, made her belly dip and soar as if she were on a swing.

However, as the kiss drew out, and need pulsed between them, Astrid tried to claw back her wits.

Hades, what was she doing? She was tangling tongues with her enemy, for pity's sake. This couldn't go on.

Leaning back, she tore her mouth from his, breathing hard as their gazes met once more.

"Wait," she gasped. "I hate ye, remember ?"

"No, ye don't," he growled. Lord, she wished he wouldn't look at her like that. The heat of his stare made her feel as if she were melting.

"But ye still loathe me , don't ye?"

"No." He cupped her face with his hands, his lips finding hers once more. This kiss was deep and sensual, and within moments, Astrid was drowning in him. Her tongue dueled with his in a lusty dance that turned her lower belly molten.

A heartbeat later, she was entwined in his arms once more, their bodies pressed hard against each other.

And then she felt it—something long and hard that thrust against her belly.

Although she was a maid, and had no experience at all of this, Astrid realized that he was aroused. Aye, she'd heard the servants at Duart whisper about such things over the years. Even through the layers of clothing separating them, she could feel his erection, and without questioning her behavior, she found herself going up on tiptoe and grinding her pelvis against his, attempting to bring that burning shaft closer to where she now ached to be touched.

Finn ripped his mouth from hers then, burying it in her neck. Breathing hard, he licked and kissed his way down. Shuddering with pleasure, Astrid let her head fall back, a soft moan escaping her as his tongue slid into the hollow between her collar bones and down the shallow valley beneath it.

Cool air feathered against her skin then, and she half-opened her eyes to see that he'd slid her lowcut surcote, kirtle, and the lèine she wore underneath, off her shoulders.

Her breasts were naked and bared to him.

"Beautiful," Finn murmured huskily, lowering himself before her.

Astrid's chest heaved, thrusting her peaked nipples in his face. An instant later, his hungry mouth fastened upon a swollen tip, and he gently began to suckle her.

Pleasure darted straight to Astrid's core. Biting her lip, she slid her hands into Finn's hair. Its texture was fine and silky, yet thick, and she delighted in stroking it as he suckled one breast hungrily and then the other.

After a while though, it was difficult to focus on anything except his mouth, and his ministrations roughened, his teeth gently grazing her nipples.

Astrid whimpered and pushed herself against him, even as the flesh between her thighs ached and pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She'd never felt so needy, so wanting.

Eventually, Finn rose to his feet, hauling her into his arms again for another wild kiss. And as their lips, teeth, and tongues tangled, he walked her across the chamber to where a wooden chair with a high back and carved armrests sat next to the glowing hearth.

His mouth still plundering hers, Finn pushed her down onto the chair before lowering himself to his knees before her once more.

"What are ye doing?" High and breathy, Astrid's voice didn't sound like her own.

Finn's gaze ensnared hers. She'd never seen his face like this. His skin was taut, stretched tight over his cheekbones, while his mouth was swollen from their kisses, and his hazel eyes had deepened to green in the firelight.

"I'd like nothing more than to take ye to bed, lass," he said, a rasp to his voice, "and swive ye until dawn." Heat flushed over Astrid at these bold words, yet Finn hadn't finished. "But I'll not ruin ye."

Astrid's lips parted as the urge to tell him he could ruin her if he wanted rose up. Grasping onto her sanity, she choked back the words.

Finn was right. She was a clan-chief's sister, and although she'd made it clear to Loch that she wouldn't wed anyone against her will, she knew what price her maidenhead had to a prospective husband.

Even so, disappointment welled within her. How she wanted to see Finn naked, to explore his skin with her fingertips, lips, and tongue. She longed to see his shaft too, for she'd only glimpsed it that day in the cave, and since he'd been freezing, his manhood had tucked itself away in the sparse nest of hazel-colored hair between his thighs.

"Ye wish to stop?" Her voice caught then, betraying her disappointment.

His mouth quirked, even as his gaze burned into her. "Not before I give ye the pleasure ye deserve."

Astrid stared back at him, not understanding.

Finn's lips curved again as he reached down and took hold of the hem of her skirts. He then pushed them up, revealing her bare legs. And then, before she knew what he was doing, Finn had spread her thighs wide, hooking each over the armrests of the chair, and settled himself between her legs.

Astrid stopped breathing.