Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick

Chapter Sixteen

Finley’s lips were soft and warm against Etna’s own. Though he was still weak, he kissed her back with the same fervor, as though he wanted to devour her whole. Etna sighed softly into the kiss, desire coursing through her entire body like a drug.

When they parted, she saw that his lips were cherry red from her ministrations, and she could only imagine that she looked the same.

“It wasna yer fault,” she repeated, this time whispering against his lips. “The only mistake that ye’ve made is that ye pulled yerself away from yer daughter, but it’s na too late to fix that. It’s na, Finley. She loves ye so much . . . if only ye kent.”

At the mention of Malina, Etna felt Finley’s body go rigid, every muscle in it stiffening. But as uncomfortable as the topic made him, she wanted him to know that he had to let go of his guilt when it came to Malina.

“Listen to me,” she said softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “She loves ye, Finley. She’s yer daughter. And she misses ye so, so much.”

“I . . . I miss her, too,” Finley admitted, and as he spoke, he sat up even further, wrapping his arms around Etna and holding her close, as though he feared that if he relaxed his grip, she would disappear into thin air. “I dinna want to keep meself away from her, but I canna look at her. She reminds me so much of Anna and . . . and of what I have done.”

Extricating herself from Finley’s grip, Etna cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Perhaps one day ye’ll have to tell her, but that day isna noo. What she needs noo is her faither. Even if it pains ye to look at her, ye have to do it. Ye have to do it for her.”

Etna saw Finley’s breath hitch as she spoke to him, and then he took her hands in his own, bringing them to his lips and pressing kisses on her knuckles.

“Ye’re right,” he said. “I’ve been a coward. I’ve been avoidin’ her because I’m too weak to face her.”

“Hush,” Etna said. “Ye’re na a coward. Ye’re a man who has been through too much. But when ye see her . . . Finley, ye may say that she looks like her maither, but she has yer eyes. Ye shouldna be afraid to meet her.”

For a few moments, Finley looked at her as though he was searching for something in her gaze, proof that she was telling him the truth. When he spoke again, he did so in a soft voice, softer than Etna had ever expected to hear from him.

“I kent that I wanted ye since the first time I met ye in that hallway,” he confessed. “Even if I didna see yer face then, yer scent lingered . . . it stayed with me. I kent that I had to have ye. To make ye mine.”

Before Finley had even managed to finish his sentence, Etna was kissing him again, pouring all her sympathy for him into that kiss. She wanted to show him that there was nothing to forgive, after all. She wanted to show him that she understood why he had done everything he had done in the past few years and why he had to become the man he was.

He was only protectin’ himself from more harm. How can I blame him for that? How can anyone?

If only the people knew what he had been through, they wouldn’t be so harsh on him. But it seemed as though Finley had told no one but her, and perhaps Arlene. Everyone else was in the dark, and Finley had to carry that weight all alone.

It was unfair to him, but at least now she could share his burden. She could carry it along with him.

When Finley pulled Etna closer, lying back down on the mattress, she stopped, placing a hand on his chest. “Ye’re hurt,” she reminded him. “I dinna want to hurt ye any further.”

“Ye willna,” Finley replied, already out of breath. “I promise ye, I’ll be fine.”

His lips sought hers out once more, and this time, Etna allowed him to pull her on top of him, though she was still mindful of his injuries. His roaming hands found her hips as they kissed, and Etna moaned as she felt his fingers dig into her flesh in a possessive manner.

Finley was already shirtless, something that Etna hadn’t paid attention to until the sheet covering his torso was pushed aside by their movements. With slow, careful fingers, she explored his body, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen under her hands, the heat of his skin, the coarse hairs that were spattered on his chest. As they kissed, his stubble was rough against her soft skin in the most delicious way, and she wanted nothing more than to feel him everywhere.

Hastily, Etna pulled back, trying to undress. Finley helped her with eager hands, their fingers constantly colliding in their hurry as they tried to unlace her corset, and once all the garments she was wearing were on the floor, she knelt on the mattress before him, her hands being the only thing that she could use to hide her body.

“Dinna hide yerself,” Finley told her as he took her hands and made Etna reveal herself. “I wanna see ye. Ye never have to hide from me.”

Etna was flaming hot under Finley’s scrutiny, her cheeks a bright shade of red that crept down to her chest. Still, she tried to force down her embarrassment, and soon, the hunger that she saw in Finley’s eyes as he gazed at her emboldened her.

No one had ever looked at her like that before. No one had touched her like Finley was touching her, his hands trailing down her body, from her breasts to her thighs.

“Ye’re the bonniest thing in the world,” he told her, just as one of his hands found its way between her legs, touching that sensitive spot that had Etna seeing stars behind her eyelids, his thumb moving in circles against her and making her cry out in pleasure. She could do little other than grip onto Finley’s shoulder, the new sensations too much and not enough at the same time, her hips moving on their own accord as they chased the pleasure that Finley was giving her.

As Finley pushed the covers off him completely, Etna saw that he was completely naked, his manhood firm and straining against his stomach. She swallowed the lump in her throat at the sight of it, her inexperience getting the better of her, but she decided that she would simply have to trust him. After all, she was certain that he knew very well what he was doing, judging by the jolts of pleasure that traveled through her body.

Pulling her down onto the bed, Finley continued lavishing Etna with attention. When she felt one of his fingers slip inside of her, she gasped, and her gasp was followed by a wanton moan that surprised even her.

Tentatively, Etna reached for Finley, wrapping her hand around his length. He felt strong and heavy under her fingers, and the groan that escaped his lips gave her the push she needed to act, stroking him in time with his own movements. Her lips found his again, and the two of them moved in unison, slowly exploring each other’s bodies.

“Etna . . . Etna, I want ye,” Finley mumbled in her ear, shifting on the bed so that he could nip and kiss the sensitive flesh of her neck. He continued to whisper sweet nothings as he moved lower and lower, kissing his way down her chest and wrapping his lips around her nipple, sucking and pulling on the bud until Etna screamed in delight.

At the sudden loss of Finley’s touch, Etna whined, wanting him back. But it wasn’t long before Finley moved onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

“I’m afraid I canna move much, lass,” he told her. “But next time . . . I promise ye, next time, I willna let ye move a muscle.”

The promise was exhilarating to Etna, but so was the prospect of taking control. Her shyness had been replaced by an overpowering need for Finley, and nothing was stopping her from getting what she wanted and giving him what he wanted in return. She let him gaze at her body, at the curves of her breasts and her hips, at the folds between her legs that he seemed to so madly desire. Her wetness spread over her at the thought that Finley wanted nothing more than to make her his, and a quiver ran through her body when their gazes met, Finley pinning her with his own.

He had so much power, even when he was doing nothing.

As she straddled his hips, Finley’s hands came to rest on her hips, guiding her. At the first push of Finley’s manhood inside her, Etna shivered, her entire body reacting to that one point of contact.

He felt so big, impossibly so, and Etna’s thighs trembled as she began to roll her hips slowly, trying to learn what both of them liked. Their moans mingled in the air as she took him deeper and deeper inside of her, sinking all the way down onto his manhood, and Etna wanted nothing more than for that delectable sensation to last forever.

Finley’s hands moved to her breasts, cupping the full mounds as Etna leaned forward, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders for support. She was lost in her desire for him, her body taking over and erasing every other thought from her mind, and she called out his name over and over like a litany. He replied with moans of his own, hips snapping off the bed as he chased his pleasure.

Their bodies were moving as one, Finley’s hands roaming all over Etna’s own body as though he didn’t know what part of her he wanted to touch the most, his hunger for her evident in his punishing grip. Etna had never felt as desired as she did when she looked into his eyes, his gaze boring right through her.

It didn’t take long for Finley to begin to ignore his wound, his yearning for Etna overpowering any pain that he could feel. He took control, flipping them over so that he was on top of her, and thrust into her with such force that he shook the entire bed.

When Finley grabbed her wrists, pinning them over her head on the mattress, Etna was completely gone. She loved him like that, primal and without a care in the world, taking her the way that he wanted. The pleasure built up inside of her, deep in her belly, an insistent heat that demanded release.

“I want . . . to see ye . . . fall apart,” Finley said, his words accentuated by sharp thrusts of his hips. It didn’t take long for Etna to follow his command, her body pulsing from head to toe as she reached her climax. She closed her eyes firmly shut, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her trembling and shaking, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her breath was short and hard, her lungs cooperating with her just as little as her heavy limbs.

Only moments later, Finley followed, spilling himself inside of her with a shout of her name. For a few moments, he hovered over Etna, trying to catch his breath, before he collapsed beside her, chest heaving and lips stretching into an easy smile.

Etna turned to look at him. She felt so relaxed, even though nothing had exerted her quite as much as their lovemaking before.

“Did I hurt ye?” she asked him, her fingers brushing gently near the wound on his side.

“Shouldna I be askin’ that question?” Finley asked. “Na, lass . . . ye didna hurt me. Did I hurt ye?”

Etna shook her head. “Na . . . na at all.”

Etna brought her head to Finley’s chest with a sigh, resting it there, and he began to stroke her hair gently, fingers combing through it. They stayed silent for a while, content to just be in each other’s presence, but Etna couldn’t stop thinking about the future.

What did it mean for them? What were they to each other now that they had made love? Etna didn’t know anymore, nor did she know how to bring up that topic. Perhaps the time wasn’t right for it anyway, but what would the right time be?

She wished that she could simply enjoy the moment without worrying about the future, but the future was the reason why she had gone to that castle in the first place. She was chasing her lifelong dream, and at the same time, she was trying to get back to Edinburgh. How could she abandon that plan when it was all that she had wanted for so long?

Perhaps na of that matters. Finley never said anythin’ about the future, so why am I thinkin’ about it?

All she knew was that Finley wanted her, and she wanted him. It seemed like she had become the mistress that she had once feared he had.

“What’s on yer mind?” Finley asked, and it seemed to Etna that he was more perceptive than he liked to show, just like his daughter. She huffed out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“Nothin’,” she said. “Just . . . just everythin’ that has happened.”

“Has anyone told ye that ye think too much?”

“I dinna think that ye have any right to lecture me on that,” Etna retorted, but there was no bite behind her words. Besides, Finley was right. She was thinking too much, and she wanted to stop, to take her mind off everything. “Kiss me.”

Finley did as he was told, pressing his lips on her own, but Etna wanted more. She licked the seam of his lips with her tongue, deepening the kiss, trying to lose herself in Finley once more.

“Eager, are we?” Finley asked with a snort. “I dinna think that I can go again so soon.”

“Just kiss me, Finley,” Etna told him, and he ended up indulging her again.

Perhaps what happens in the future doesna matter right the noo. All that matters is that at this moment, he’s mine, and I’m his.

No matter what happened between them, she would always have the memory of their first time.