32 WAITING MY WHOLE LIFE

FINN'S MOUTH CURVED, even as his pulse took off.

Did this woman know just how much she inflamed him? Astrid was as slender as a willow reed, and the sight of her bandaged ribs made his chest tighten. He didn't want to hurt her, yet the way she was looking at him now—a challenge glinting in those peat-colored eyes—made something feral stir within him.

Their previous encounter had already given him a taste of her. But this time, he wouldn't back away. This time, he intended to lose himself inside her.

No more excuses. No more lies.

She was his, and he was hers.

Finn pulled off his lèine, noting the way Astrid's hungry gaze swept down over his nude torso to where he was now unlacing his braies. He removed those too, swiftly, eagerness thrumming through him.

Lust arrowed through his gut when Astrid gave a soft, breathy gasp, her lips parting as she stared at his rod.

Glancing down, he marked how swollen and hard it was, how it strained against his belly.

"Can I touch it?" she asked, her voice catching with excitement.

"Aye," he ground out.

"Show me how."

"Lower yerself to yer knees."

Lord, it felt sinful to give such a command, and he thought Astrid might hesitate. Yet she didn't. Instead, her chest heaved, her eyes shining now. An instant later, she sank down before him .

She reached out then, her fingertips tracing his length, from root to tip.

Finn sucked in a breath, his rod jerking under her touch. Jaw clenched, he took hold of her hands, showing her how to stroke his bollocks with one and fist his shaft with her other, working him slowly with just the right pressure.

"Oh, Jesu," Astrid murmured. "It's getting even bigger … even harder."

Finn ground out an oath, even as his rod swelled further at these words. "It's yer touch, mo chridhe," he rasped. "Ye are driving me to the edge."

Astrid gazed up at him, a smile curving her rosebud lips. And then, to his surprise, she leaned in, her mouth capturing the slick tip of his rod as she tasted him.

Finn's curse echoed through the chamber. His hands went to her hair, tangling through its softness to hold her steady. He guided her then as she sucked him hungrily, her tongue exploring the swollen head of his shaft.

Astrid was an eager pupil, and a quick learner too, as she stroked, licked, and sucked him with a greed that stoked a heat in his gut.

She'd have continued, would have pleasured him until he spilled deep into her throat, if he hadn't stepped back and withdrawn from her.

Breathing hard, even as she made a frustrated sound and reached for him, Finn gently hooked his hands under her armpits, lifting Astrid to her feet. Then, he climbed onto the bed, drawing her with him, positioning her so that she was on her knees astride his lap. Meanwhile, he leaned his back against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed.

Astrid's high, peaked breasts were level with his face now, and he brushed his rough cheek against her swollen, sensitive nipples. Hunger spiked through him yet again when she gasped and arched her back, pressing her lovely paps into his face.

Finn caught one of her needy nipples with his mouth, suckling her gently, while she trembled and gasped in his arms.

Hades, she was so responsive—as she had been the last time he'd pleasured her. It made him ache for her even more.

Trying to ignore his throbbing, pulsing groin, he moved to her other breast, while he trailed his fingertips down over the arch of her ribcage and the hollow of her belly, to the damp pale-gold curls beneath.

And when his fingers slid into the slippery cleft between her thighs, Astrid cried out. She then moved her legs farther apart, giving him greater access, allowing him to stroke and tease her until her whole body was shuddering, her breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.

But Finn was relentless. He knew what she needed, and his fingers continued to play her like a lyre until wet heat surged against his fingers, until she gasped out his name as she held tight to his shoulders.

Angling his chin upward, he met her gaze then.

Until his dying day, he'd never forget how beautiful Astrid Maclean was at that moment. Her face flushed from her release, her lips bee-stung from his kisses, and her eyes gleaming with desire.

An ache rose in his chest.

This bonnie creature was his . He hardly dared believe it was true. "Are ye ready, love?" he asked.

Astrid nodded, catching her lower lip with her teeth as she reached down and wrapped her fingers around his throbbing shaft, angling it between her trembling thighs. "Please," she whispered.

Finn stifled a groan. Her touch nearly undid him, as did her husky plea. She didn't need to beg for this, yet the fact she did ignited a wildness inside him that made it difficult to go slowly.

But she was a maid, and he didn't want to hurt her.

As such, he took hold of her hips gently and guided her down upon him, inching into her a little at a time. After a few moments, he stopped, to let her adjust to him, before continuing the slow, sensual slide.

Astrid groaned, circling her hips upon him.

Finn hissed through his teeth. Christ's blood, how could he go slowly when she moved like that? The feel of her tight, wet quim enveloping him was so good, he was starting to lose his wits. "Astrid," he choked out. "Don't—"

She didn't heed him though. Instead, with a sharp cry, she sank down on him hard, bringing him deep inside her. And then, even as his hips bucked up to meet hers, she ground herself onto him .

Finn cursed, gripping her hips tightly as he urged her to repeat the action.

Hades, this was supposed to be slow and gentle. However, with Astrid writhing on his rod like a temptress, he lost all coherent thought.

She wore a fierce, hungry look upon her face now, as if she too had forgotten that they were supposed to be careful. And when Finn arched up and rolled his hips against her, Astrid's breathing caught in a sob of pleasure.

"Do ye like that, lass?" he growled, repeating the act.

"Aye!" she cried, her gaze seizing with his. "Don't stop, please … oh!"

Gripping her hips tight, he slid her up and down his rod. God help him, she was gloriously wet now, her quim clutching at him with each delicious stroke. It was so good that Finn's eyelids fluttered. The urge to throw back his head and let himself go rose inside him then.

However, he didn't want to break eye contact with Astrid. Somehow, staring into her eyes as he took her made the pleasure even more intense.

Watching the flush that flowered across her face, seeing how her lips parted to gasp as he pulled her closer against him, and how her eyes grew wide, excited him just as much as the feel of being buried inside her.

Finn had swived his fair share of women over the years, yet he'd never experienced anything as intimate as this, had never fully let himself go.

But he did now. His body trembled as pleasure churned in his belly, heat gathered in his lower back, and his bollocks drew painfully tight.

It had never been this good. Never.

Astrid shrieked then, her lissome body writhing against him, her sweat-slicked skin gleaming in the lantern light as she shuddered her release.

And all the while, her core clutched at him, milked him. It was too much.

A shout tore from Finn's throat, and he bucked up, slamming home one last time, deep inside her.

Cradled in Finn's arms, their ragged breathing the only sound in the bedchamber, Astrid buried her face in the hollow of his neck, breathing in his scent, reveling in the delicious feel of him still buried to the hilt within her.

Lord, that was incredible, better than any heated fantasies that her mind had led her on after their encounter in Dunvegan Castle.

The intensity of it—the way their gazes had held the entire time, and the way that his shaft felt as if it were piercing her soul with each thrust—had completely undone her.

In the aftermath, her limbs were liquid, and her pulse still throbbed through her womb.

To think that they could do that, again and again, for they were now wed, made her breathing quicken and heat flicker to life once more in her lower belly.

She could hardly wait.

Eventually, sufficiently recovered, Astrid raised her chin, her gaze lifting to his.

Her breathing caught. Finn's hazel eyes shone; his face was more vulnerable than she'd ever seen it.

They stared at each other, the intimacy and truth of the moment vibrating between them, and then Finn reached up, brushing aside the hair that had stuck to her sweaty cheek.

"I've been waiting my whole life for that," he admitted huskily.

"Me too," she whispered.

"It's as if something has just unfurled inside my chest," he continued, his voice catching. "As if a knot I've carried all my life has suddenly released." His eyes glistened then, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. Finn's chest hitched, and he lifted a hand to dash the tear away. "Satan's cods, what's wrong with me … I haven't wept since I was a wee bairn."

Astrid's mouth curved, even as tenderness rose within her. "Don't brush yer tears away, love … there's no shame in them." Her throat thickened then, and she cupped his cheek before lowering her lips to his for a tender kiss.

"I'm not used to feeling this … vulnerable," Finn admitted then, his breath mingling with hers. "I've never truly let anyone but ye in. Ye alone understand me, lass. When I'm with ye, I know I've come home."