Page 58 of A Touch of Shadows

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Page 58 of A Touch of Shadows

‘And if it’s not real?’

‘It has to be, Wren. I wanted you from the first but this… this is more. I came to care for you. This is like nothing else I’ve ever?—’

She pulled him inside the room with her and kissed him to silence.

It had to be real, that was what he said and she believed him. She believed that too. It had to be. Because otherwise she was a monster, using magic to get what she wanted. Or they were caught in a tangle of enchantment from which they couldn’t extricate themselves.

And part of her couldn’t bring itself to care.

Kicking the door closed behind him, Finn reached for her again. If this was madness, or an enchantment, she didn’t want it to end. She wanted him, only him. And every movement, every breath told her he wanted the same.

Wren slid her hands up his back, pulling out the shirt so she could touch the skin underneath.

‘Tell me what to do,’ he asked, his voice breathless.

She faltered, the words confusing her. ‘What?’

‘Tell me what you need. I don’t want to hurt you, or… or…’

He looked for all the world a lost soul, desperate but also so very much in need of guidance. People looked like that when Elodie arrived to a terrible illness or accident, or to the birthing room. He shouldn’t look like that. But at the same time it just made her want him all the more. How could she not?

Wren grabbed a fistful of his shirt so she could pull him towards her again. They toppled back onto the bed and he only just managed to catch himself on his outstretched arms so he didn’t crush her completely.

She lay beneath him, breathing hard, trying to gather her thoughts.

‘All right then,’ she said at last. ‘Undress.’

‘Undress?’ When she nodded, he complied, trying his best not to look like a green boy tearing off every scrap of clothing as quickly as he could. He pulled off his upper clothes and suddenly he paused as if unaccountably exposed in an entirely different way. ‘Are you… are you sure?’

He stood there bare-chested, but being naked before her clearly didn’t bother him. Was she catching a glimpse of something else?

Something inside him, something fragile and afraid. The fear that she could still reject him, that he’d have no choice but to put his clothes back on and slink away, defeated. Finn didn’t seem like the type to go to bed with anyone less than willing. He wasn’t like Pol and his ilk. How she knew that, she wasn’t sure, but the certainty was there in her mind. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to please her.

The thought sent a rush of pleasure to the core of her body.

‘I’m sure, Finn,’ she told him.

He pulled off the rest of his clothes more slowly and watched her with those beautiful blue eyes, as she took in his every movement, graceful as a dancer. When he’d finished and stood there somewhat awkwardly, waiting for her next command, she stood up and held her hands over her head.

‘Now undress me.’

He took his time, indulging his desire for her. She squirmed when his fingertips brushed her skin, but he only did so accidentally. Well, maybe not entirely accidentally.

When they finally stood naked together, she rose on her toes and kissed his mouth again.

This time there was nothing else between them, nothing to hold them back. Her hands explored his shoulders, his chest, her clever fingers teasing his nipples until they tightened. He threw his head back and let her work her way further down his body. His abdominal muscles jumped beneath her touch, as hard as steel beneath his skin. Their lines guided her downwards.

‘Careful,’ he warned when she brushed her fingers up the length of his straining cock.

She pulled back. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No,’ he laughed, a mixture of relief and desperation. ‘You could never do that, heart. But too much and I’ll spend before we do anything else. The things you do to me, Wren…’

When she touched him again, her name became a groan of need on his lips.

‘Finn?’ she whispered, hesitant now. She didn’t know why. They were naked together, but now… now it seemed like something more intimate, more special. ‘Kiss me?’

He looked down the length of her, studying her with an appraising eye. ‘Where?’




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