Angie Fox - Love Bites

Kat never knew one person could do that to another and she certainly hadn’t imagined how bone-crushingly delectable it would feel. He licked her, sucked her, tasted her everywhere until she exploded once, twice. “Finn!” The ankle grip she had around his neck would have flattened the average man, but Finn was certainly not an average anything. She gave up, threw her head back and released a very un-princesslike scream of pleasure.

“Is this another one of your supernatural powers?” she gasped, only half joking.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” he said, standing.

She wrapped her fingers around his length. Her excitement rocketed as she sensed her power. If only she knew what to do next. “I’ve only ever done it in a bed. In the dark.” Even that had been a few hundred years ago.

Finn kissed her like he was ready to devour her. He broke away, chest heaving. “We’ll go slow.”

Slow was bad, she wanted to say. This night was not about holding back. She wanted him hard and fast and now.

“No,” she said, and nearly shrieked at the loss when he stopped. “Wait,” she said. “I meant not slow. I didn’t mean, oh hell – now, Finn. Now!”

He groaned and surged forwards. It stung, but she didn’t care. She grabbed his perfect butt and forced him forwards. “More!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he heaved against her ear.

“Then don’t stop.” He couldn’t stop now.

With a loud shout, he pushed himself inside her. She gasped at the bliss of being completely and utterly possessed. She’d never felt it. Would never feel it again.

Don’t think. Just feel.

At some point, they ended up on the stone floor, the kilt under her, Finn above her. She was surrounded in the scent of him, the feel of him, as he drove into her, over and over. She revelled in it. Clutched his back, luxuriating in the muscle and power and strength she found. It was bliss. He was heaven. And if he was trying to make up for the last 839 years, he was doing a bang-up job.

When she came for the third time, he came with her, groaning against her ear as he spilled himself inside of her.

When she felt sufficiently able to speak, she tipped her head forwards against his. “Is it always like that?” she asked. Because really, if it was, then her life before this was even more pathetic than she’d imagined.

He chuckled against the crook of her neck, “Princess,” he said, pressing wet kisses across her skin that made her all squiggly again, “it’s never like that.”

A chill crept down her spine, despite the warmth of the man currently rubbing his cheek against hers. She’d never have this again. Never have him. What good was it to experience so much when she’d be forced to live without it for the next millennium?

She pulled him closer. After centuries more of neglect, she might not even care any more.

“It’s time,” he said quietly, pulling away from her. She let him go, and felt the cool air creep in between them. He really was magnificent. Lean and strong, all bone and muscle and . . . yum. Well, she might as well look. She’d never see it again.

Finn’s entire body stiffened as he checked his watch. “By Skara Brae, we’ve been at it for three hours.”

Mmm . . . she sat up on her elbows. Her entire body felt sated, and a little wobbly. “It couldn’t have been three hours.”

“And then some.” Finn frowned, studying the shredded bottom of his kilt.

His fault for putting his tongue in places she’d never dreamed a tongue could go.

She stood slowly and ran her fingers through her tangled hair as she watched him dress. At least her father was late. She considered it a gift. The King had a reputation for putting business over everything else. And that, Kat sighed, was exactly what she was – an item to be bartered and handed off to the royal with the most influence to peddle.

Finn handed her a conservative, medieval dress like the one she’d worn for the last 800 years. And like the ones she’d wear for the rest of her immortal life. She stuffed the shapeless, long-sleeved, high-necked bundle of brown velvet and trim over her head.

The lace itched at her neck in a way it hadn’t before, now that she knew what it felt like to live without a noose of fine Romanian needlepoint. She pulled at the intricately woven fabric, almost wishing she hadn’t known how her life could be.

Finn gathered what little they’d brought with them, the muscles in his back working as he double-checked his weapons.

He was so powerful, so alive. Not just because he lived and breathed, or because he could walk in the light. Finn lived his life. And for a while, when she’d been with him, he’d made her feel that she lived hers too.

Kat reached into the pocket of her gown and found a royal headpiece – a shapeless, formless cap of black thread and pearls. Her fingers moved of their own volition, weaving her long hair into a braid around her head and tying the velvet ribbons under her chin.

Having him – if only for an evening – had almost been worse than not having him at all. Because now she knew what she was missing. And it would kill her.

Finn frowned at his black satellite phone and strapped it back into his pack. “Your father’s party isn’t answering. He sat back on his heels as he checked his watch. “We’re more than an hour past the pick-up time.”

Kat licked her lips at the fact they could have been caught.

“Impossible,” he said, “I would have sensed them coming.”

“Would you at least pretend you can’t read my thoughts?” she asked. It was bad enough that her life was an endless, open book. She didn’t need him telling her what she was thinking.

He slung his pack over his shoulder as he strode towards her, a contrite hitch to the side of his mouth. “I can’t read your thoughts, just your feelings.” He touched his forehead to hers. “And I apologize.”

Finn folded her into his arms. Safe.

Kat closed her eyes and let his warmth wash over her. Yes, she’d be sad later, and she’d mourn him, but right now, she had him.

Finn rubbed her back through the heavy velvet. “I don’t know how to say this easy, so I’m just going to say it.” He drew back and considered her carefully, his expression sombre. “There’s no reason for your father to have missed our rendezvous. Worse, he’s not answering his phone.”

Apprehension seeped through her. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said, all business. “But we’re not going to waste anytime wondering. We’re going to the castle.”

So this was it. She swallowed hard and stared at the grey stone floor. He was taking her back to Varstnic Castle. She’d be married before sunrise.

Finn had told her to expect it. Still, a tiny part of her had held out hope.

“Come on.” He wrapped her hand in his and led her towards the door. “We need to leave.”

“Can I at least wear your jacket?” she asked, feeling silly but needing it all the same.

With great tenderness, he helped her into the coat. She savoured the warmth and feel of it, wrapped it around her so tightly that something poked her in the back.

“Ow.”

He rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “It’s just a spare stake. It won’t hurt you.”

“Right,” she said, proving they couldn’t go five minutes without one of them thinking of his job. Well, unless they were occupied as they had been earlier. Parts of her body immediately turned to liquid at the thought.

Finn looked flustered too. “Just—” he closed the jacket firmly around her “—just don’t touch it. That, either,” he said, as she pulled a heavy black gun out of the pocket.

“Bullets can’t hurt me.”

“No, but that gun shoots holy water. Hard and deadly accurate. Put it away.”