Page 38 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
It was a whisper so low that Finley could have missed it. Only he didn’t. And then his lips were on her.
The first press of his mouth against the bruises on her neck was achingly soft, reverent. A gasp slipped from her lips before she could stop it. He kissed her there again, slower this time, hisbreath warm against her skin. Then he ran his tongue over the tender flesh, a whisper of heat against the lingering ache, and she swayed toward him, unable to hold herself upright.
His hands found her waist, steadying her, pulling her closer. One curled around the side of her throat, his thumb caressing her just beneath her jaw. The other slipped lower, his palm burning through the thin fabric of her gown.
A shudder ran through her. The pain had faded into nothing, replaced by a far more burning sensation.
She closed her eyes as his lips trailed from her neck to the sharp line of her jaw, his kisses a teasing mix of featherlight brushes and firmer, lingering touches. Heat coiled in her stomach, winding tighter with every breath, every slow stroke of his tongue against her skin.
Then he paused.
For a moment, he only looked at her, his gaze dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. It should have steadied her. It only made her dizzy.
And then he kissed her lips.
It was slow at first, careful, as if he were memorizing the shape of her mouth, the taste of her. But when she parted her lips, inviting him deeper, the restraint shattered.
His tongue found hers, moving in perfect unison, each shift of his lips against hers sending a fresh wave of heat through her. She pressed herself against him, her hands tangling in his hair, gripping tight as if anchoring herself to the moment.
In a trance, Edin found herself moving without thought, her fingers pulling the tunic from his chest. His skin was warm beneath her touch, the heat from his body pressing against hers. Her fingers brushed over the muscles of his abdomen, caressing them slowly, then her lips followed, tasting the same heat. His heartbeat pulsed under her lips, quickening as her touch deepened.
Then he broke away, his hands moving swiftly to lift her gown, leaving her only in her undergarments. He paused, his gaze roaming over her slowly. Shivers ran through her, a delicate tremor that spoke of how badly she needed him.
Without a word, his hands found her waist, pulling her closer, his touch sure and commanding. He removed the last of her clothing, leaving her bare, his gaze heavy as he knelt beside her, his breath warm against her skin. His tongue traced the inside of her thigh, a teasing brush that sent a tremor through her. Then, with deliberate slowness, he moved higher.
A soft gasp slipped from her as he kissed his way between her legs, his mouth warm and possessive. She threaded her fingers through his hair, the sensation overwhelming as his tongue moved with a languid, deliberate rhythm, exploring her. Every stroke made her gasp, her body quaking with the intensity of it, unable to think of anything but the way he made her feel.
His moan rumbled against her skin, a sound that made her heart race faster. Slowly, he moved upward, his lips leaving a trail of heat across her stomach. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her down, guiding her to him. He lay back, and in one smooth motion, he removed his trousers, his eyes dark and intense, reflecting of the twilight.
He pulled her onto him, and then stopped, looking at her with tenderness like she had never seen in anyone’s eyes. “Are ye sure ye dinnae want me tae stop?”. She opened her mouth to answer but the words would not come out, so intense was her desire for him. She looked into his eyes and nodded. The feeling of him entering inside her, thrusting deep and slow at first, was like nothing she had ever experienced. There was a little pain at first, as she had expected, but nothing compared to the pleasure she now felt. He moved his hips, holding hers firmly in place. With each thrust, the pace quickened and grew more forceful, driving deeper inside her as she felt hot wetness dripping from her.
She shuddered at the sensation, her body trembling as she moved with him, her hips circling to match his rhythm. Each movement was slow, deliberate, building in intensity until she could barely catch her breath. His grip on her hips tightened, his body responding to her with every thrust, their movements synchronized in perfect harmony.
Her moan, soft and desperate, filled the air, and she let herself be swept away by the storm of sensation.
He lifted his torso from the ground, maintaining his grip on her hips as he continued to move in and out of her. His lips foundher nipple, the sensation nearly unbearable. She craved more, wanted him deeper. Unable to resist, she thrust downward, eliciting a moan from him as her body shivered with pleasure.
He took control, guiding her movements with a steady hand on her hips, urging her to move in just the right way. His rhythm was deliberate, never fully allowing himself to slip away, but each thrust grew deeper and harder than the last. She followed his lead, feeling the intensity build between them as he commanded her body, pulling her closer with every motion. The pressure built, each movement leaving them both gasping for more.
The heat between them grew, until it consumed her entirely.
“Edin,” he groaned, his voice rough and ragged, and in that moment, everything inside her shattered. She felt the warmth of his body, the pulse of desire between them, and stars exploded in her vision as waves of pleasure rushed over her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The night had passed without rest, the pair opting for a rough camp near the river. The urgency of their journey left little time for sleep, and Finley could feel the exhaustion creeping in beneath his skin.
He didn't mind the exhaustion — it was nothing compared to the exhilaration flooding his body at the memory of the previous night. He felt lighter, more content, and even the thought of his sister no longer stirred the same tight knot of anxiety in his stomach that it had for the past months.
Beside him, Edin rode in silence, her expression unreadable, except for the slight upward curving if her lips. She was a woman of few words, but Finley had learned over the days that every quiet moment with her carried weight. Her eyes were focused, distant, as if they saw something beyond the present.
As they approached the town’s outskirts, the battlements of Inverness Castle came into view, looming over the town like a dark omen. It was a grand structure, but to Finley, it was nothingbut a prison. His sister’s fate seemed to be tied to its cold stone walls, and his heart pounded with the dread of what awaited them.
They dismounted outside the town. His muscles screamed in protest as he led his horse by the reins. His eyes flicked over to Edin, who had already started moving toward the cobbled streets.
“Ye think she’s there?” Finley’s voice was low, rough, and carrying the strain of a thousand unspoken worries. He wasn’t sure how to phrase it, how to make sense of the jumble of thoughts in his head. He couldn’t make himself believe it, couldn’t bear the thought of his sister being in the clutches of the Mackay clan.
Edin turned to him, the lines of her face sharp under the cold, gray sky. She studied him for a moment, then glanced up at the towering silhouette of the castle.
