Page 64 of The Laird who Craved her

"Was that..." she started, her voice hoarse. "Was that what it always feels like?"

He laughed softly, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through her. "Nay, lass. That was just the beginning. There is so much more I want to show ye. So much more I want to give ye."

"But you dinnae…" she looked down, suddenly aware that he was still fully clothed below the waist, that she had taken nothing from him. "Ye dinnae find yer own release."

He shook his head, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "I will. When the time is right. But tonight is for ye. Every touch, every sound, every shiver, that was for ye."

A hot blush crept up her cheeks, but she did not look away. "Ye are... you are very patient," she said softly.

His smile was wry, self-deprecating. "I am trying to be. It is taking every ounce of me strength to nae lay ye down and take ye properly. But I willnae do that until ye are ready."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Claire woke with a sharp breath, tangled in the warmth of her blankets, her heart already beating too fast.

For one blissful moment, she did not remember where she was.

She remembered only him.

Finn.

The way his hands had settled against me waist.

Her fingertips drifted unconsciously to the place where they had held her. Even through the thick linen of her nightdress, her skin seemed to remember the heavy pressure of his palms, and a deep heat crept slowly into her cheeks.

He touched me as though I was something precious.

She closed her eyes again, surrendering herself completely to the memory.

His broad body had boxed her gently against the cool stone wall of his study. His breath had skimmed the sensitive curve of her throat, warm enough to make her shiver despite the winter chill that had seeped through the castle walls.

She could still hear the rough sound that had escaped him when she had buried her fingers in his hair. It had been quiet, almost unwilling, as though he had forgotten himself for one stolen heartbeat.

Her fingers lifted to her lips.

They lingered there, tracing the soft swell of them.

He kissed me here.

The thought alone sent another flush racing through her chest.

Then her hand slid slowly down the length of her neck, across the place where his beard had brushed her skin, and down the curve of her arm until she hugged herself tightly.

How am I supposed to forget any of it?

A sudden knock shattered the silence.

Claire startled violently, sitting upright so quickly the blankets tangled around her legs.

"Come in," Claire called, though her voice came out much softer than she intended.

The door creaked open, and Molly entered first, her arms full of neatly folded traveling gowns. The maid's usual briskness was gone, her shoulders looking heavy and her mouth pressed into a thin line.

But Claire scarcely noticed her.

Standing directly behind Molly was Finn.

The doorway seemed too small for him as he filled it effortlessly, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame. One hand rested against the weathered oak as though he needed something solid to steady himself.