Craving the Highlander's Touch
other,” he murmured against her nape, his fingers searching for the hooded flesh above her cleft. “Do you truly want a stranger in your bed?”
    “You’re not a stranger,” she said, her palm surrounding his length. When she stroked him, he let out a hiss, answering her gesture by sliding a single finger within her wet center.
    “Who am I to you, then?”
    “The man who gave me back a part of myself.” She squeezed him lightly, her thumb edging the bead of fluid upon his manhood. “The night you touched me, I felt like the wife I should have been. And I want you to show me the rest.”
    He stripped back the coverlet, drinking in the sight of her naked body. Her full, rounded breasts were tipped with dusky pink nipples, while a triangle of dark hair shielded her womanhood. Finian rolled her to her back and parted her legs, gently bending her knees up until he exposed the pink center of her.
    With his fingers, he caressed her delicate flesh, leaning in to breathe against her inner thigh. He nudged the soft skin with his mouth, drawing dangerously close to her center. His tongue slid a path across her thigh while he lifted her bottom. Then across the other thigh, he kissed her, until she was gripping the sheets with her fists.
    “Alys,” he whispered, and he saw her flinch, almost afraid of him. “Tell me what you want.”
    “I want you to touch me there again,” she pleaded.
    “Where?” He rose up on his forearms and sucked against her nipples, enjoying the sound of the moan that tore from her throat. Her hands moved into his hair, while her legs opened wider. When he released her breasts, she was shaking, her skin flushed.
    “Or did you mean here?” he murmured, lowering his hand to the hooded entrance.
    She nearly came apart when he used his fingers to draw out her arousal. He stroked her center, using his thumb to press in a rhythm until her breathing shattered and she arched hard.
    “Yes,” she managed, raising up her knees again. “Finian, I need you.”
    He sensed her coming so close to the release, he backed off a little, trying to prolong the sensations. He wanted to show her what it meant to be fulfilled, to find release.
    And then, he watched as her body shuddered, tightening with ecstasy as she came apart. With his fingers, he stimulated her again, until he knew she was wet and ready for him. When he sheathed himself inside her, she was so tight, his own hands dug into the mattress to keep from spilling his seed that very moment.
    Alys saw the tension upon Finian’s face, and when he was fully impaled within her, she struggled not to move. The urge to press her body closer, to feel her naked breasts against his strong chest, was hard to suppress. Instead, she drew her hands to his hips, careful to avoid the healing wounds on his back.
    When he started to withdraw, she was so afraid he would stop, she arched her hips to sheathe him again. The expression on his mouth changed, and though he tried to keep his penetrations gentle, she no longer wanted gentle.
    “Take me,” she commanded, wrapping her legs around his waist. He plunged within her, and the heady feeling started to transform her until she could no longer bear it. Every motion, every touch, seemed to draw forth the woman she wanted to be. The woman who was no longer afraid to live, hiding in the shadow of others. The woman who would take this pleasure and give everything of herself in return.
    “I’ll let no man harm you again,” Finian gritted out as he kept up the pulsing rhythm. She climaxed again, the shimmering release tearing apart her inhibitions. In a sudden motion, he withdrew and pressed her legs to her stomach, lifting her hips and driving inside her secret flesh once more. The new position allowed him to go deeper, and Alys writhed in the sheets, moving in counterpoint to his thrusts until she was shaking so hard, she cried out during his own shuddering release.
    Still inside her, Finian lay atop her. Her body was warm,

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