Lizzy pulled away, forcing his eyes to open. Her chest rose and fell with quick, heated breaths. With sober eyes, she released his body.
He wanted to beg, weep to have more of her.
Liz reached behind her and loosened the laces holding her dress together.
Mesmerized, Fin watched the length of her finger trace a line along her gown until it sat in a pool by her feet. Within seconds, she kicked away her clothing and stood naked before him.
Beautiful. He knew she would be, but to see her against the backdrop of trees and to hear the birds calling above them, Fin thought he’d died and found heaven.
The rosy tips of her br**sts tightened with the cool air, and with her hands clutched by her sides, they were the only indicator that she waited for him to stir.
In the seconds it took for Fin to move her way, Liz held a rare moment of self-doubt. His stare penetrated into her mind as he devoured her body with his eyes. He left her moist with wanting.
She needed this, him. Release. Denying it proved useless, and if the past year of her life hadn’t reminded her how short life was, nothing would.
Fin’s dark eyes swirled as he approached her.
Finally, he responded to her invitation and took her in his arms again. His hands smoothed over her body until the cool open air around them disappeared.
His lips possessed hers and heated her completely before moving to the long column of her neck. The soft wisp of his beard sent an erotic shiver down her spine.
Skin, she needed to feel his. Liz found the clasp of his sword and worked it until it fell from his side.
The mantle over his kilt followed quickly.
His fingers brushed against her breast and gave her pause.
“Do ye know how long I’ve wanted this, Elizabeth?”
Yeah, she had a pretty good idea. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“How long?” she asked while her nimble fingers inched the edge of his kilt higher.
“The first night, when you arrived with Myra…”
He gasped when her hand found the curve of his bare ass. Tight. He was so firm absolutely everywhere.
“The first night?” she redirected his words.
“When you told me to call you Liz.”
She remembered. He’d been such an ass.
Forcing his ways down her throat. “You’re Lady Elizabeth,” he’d said. “Widow and mother to Simon.”
She’d corrected him, but he didn’t budge. He wasn’t going to have Simon humiliated by her past indiscretions. In a way, he’d protected her, too. Not that she saw it that way at the time.
“You were such a shithead that night.”
“And you, unmoving.”
Her free hand wrestled with his kilt and shirt, wanting them off. Fin shrugged his shoulders and released the garments.
Pure, hard muscle met her eager hands. “You pissed me off.”
“Your fire made me need.”
Need what? she mused. But her eyes traveled down his long torso and followed the ripples of his chest until they met his need head on.
“Good God, MacCoinnich, what do you feed that thing?” She licked her lips and prayed he hadn’t seen her response.
He didn’t answer until her gaze returned to his.
“Blondes.”
She gulped, batting down the smile she didn’t want him to see.
Before reaching for her, Fin spread his plaid on the mossy surface of the forest floor. It wasn’t a bed, not that she needed one. All she had to have was him. His powerful arms gathered her in, warming her. Soft lips returned to hers. Liz felt her eyes roll back and her head grow faint. Everywhere he touched fluttered with sensation. Desire.
Fin eased his thigh between hers. The friction delighted her deep inside. Her hips buckled and her knees weakened.
“Oh, lass,” he moaned as he helped her to their makeshift bed. His thigh pinned her down, the weight a small token of how strong he was.
A callused hand cupped her breast and gave a not so gentle squeeze. She arched into his touch, urging him to explore further. His breath skimmed over her collarbone, his teeth grazed her skin with tiny bites that had her thrusting her mound over his thigh.
His tongue swirled over her nipple, teasing the soft space under her breast until she screamed.
“Suck it. Deeper into your mouth. Please.”
Her plea brought a teasing chuckle from him, and her desired response soon followed. His lips latched on, shooting flames straight to her core.
The long length of her leg lifted over his hip, his erection hard against her thigh. Liz reached between them until she held his heated length in her hand.
Fin stilled. His moan elicited a giggle from her. She stroked the velvety softness to an impossible length.
Fin’s breath caught, his forehead came to rest between her br**sts. “How I’ve dreamed of you touching me like this.”
Smiling, Liz shifted her weight until Fin lay on his back, his eyes gazing into hers. She ran both hands up his taut chest. “Have you dreamed of this?”
she asked before dipping her head and circling his hardened ni**les with her tongue. She nipped as he had and awaited his answer.
“Aye,” came his guttural cry.
She moved lower, her mound still straddling one of his thighs. She kissed his stomach and ran her tongue along his rib cage. His abdominal muscles tightened, quivered. This was nice, having Fin on his back and at her mercy. Liz allowed her hair to graze over his erection. Her hands skirted his hip until she leaned over to taste his skin there. The heat of his shaft was close to her cheek, the scent of his skin penetrated her mind.
Fin’s hand stroked the side of her face. She looked his way, caught his eye, and angled her lips to taste him for the first time.
With the first contact, Fin let loose a long-winded moan. Her tongue lapped up the vein on the underside of his c**k and back up to the tip. The size of him stretched her abilities to take him in, but she gave it a try. Salty and warm and oh-so-Fin was his taste.
“Sweet Lord,” he said when she pushed him further down her throat. A few more strokes and he reached to pull her away. “Perhaps later ye’ll let me come in your mouth, but this time I want to be buried deep inside of you.”
Deep? Oh, that sounded so good. He leaned her back and took possession of her mouth in another soul-wrenching kiss. His knee pressed her thighs wider, the cool air around them sending a wave of raw pleasure throughout her body. Had she ever made love outside, in the open, where anyone could come along and catch her? Liz knew she hadn’t. For as much as she prided herself on not being a prude, she certainly wasn’t that experienced.