by Baker, Katy
Arousal sent a flush to her cheeks and quickened her breathing. She tugged at the knot on his plaid, almost tearing the fabric in her haste. Finlay grabbed the knot and yanked, tearing the garment from his body and tossing it away. The linen undershirt went next then Finn grabbed her dress and jerked it down to allow Eleanor to wriggle out of it. This too was tossed into a corner.
Eleanor's eyes fell greedily on her new husband's body. His tanned, muscled chest, his strong arms, his hard thighs—and his manhood standing straight out, attesting to how much he wanted her. She ran her fingers over the lines of his chest, down his sides and then gently along the length of his erection. Finn groaned and then his mouth caught hers again, kissing her roughly, fiercely.
He pushed her onto her back on the thick rug and she pulled him down with her, his weight pressing her into the rug's soft embrace. He ran a hand along the length of her body, all the way to her thigh and then pushed her legs apart. His kiss became hard, desperate, and Eleanor answered in kind, her tongue cavorting with his in a savage dance. Her hands grasped his shoulders, feeling the hardness of his muscles as his hips pinned against hers, allowing his manhood to bump against the spot between her legs. The sensation almost drove her wild. She needed him to take her.
Finn broke the kiss, raised his head and looked down at her. "I love ye," he whispered.
"And I you," Eleanor responded, her voice rough and husky. "Always."
His eyes slid closed and for a moment he trembled with emotion. Then, with a hard thrust, he drove himself inside her. Eleanor gasped, crying out as his body joined with hers. She gripped his back, tracing the line of his tattoo, as he began to move, his muscles bunching and contracting as he drove into her over and over. Each thrust sent spears of burning ecstasy through her body and she moved to meet him, matching his rhythm, her hips grinding against his, his hot skin gliding over hers.
Something began to burn deep inside Eleanor. It sent tingles out from her abdomen, along her arms, down her legs, right to the crown of her head. Her breathing began to come in ragged moans as she writhed beneath him, lifting her legs to wrap them around his waist. Finn growled deep in his throat, sounding more animal than human, and his thrusts became harder, faster, more urgent.
The firelight was hot against Eleanor's skin, adding to the heat that was building inside her. She felt her nails scoring gashes down the length of Finn's tattoo, leaving marks in his flesh that claimed him as her own. Finn barely seemed to feel it. His breath was as ragged and wild as her own, a thin sheen of sweat covering his muscled torso.
The inferno inside Eleanor began to build and now it sent licking flames up from her core and through her body. She screwed her eyes closed, arched her back beneath him, and dug her fingers into his shoulders as the fire caught, sizzling along her nerves and tearing gasps and moans from her lips. She began to come apart, losing herself in the hot, blinding ecstasy. She teetered on the edge for one long, delicious heartbeat and then the inferno engulfed her, ripping through her body with enough force to obliterate all thought.
Eleanor bucked and cried out Finn’s name as she reached her climax, screaming it into the rafters, not caring if the whole world heard her cry. Finn grunted and shuddered as he reached his own release and then collapsed on top of her.
For an eternal moment they lay tangled and sweaty, bodies joined, as the fire burned, burned, burned, all through Eleanor's body. Only gradually did it begin to die away. Finally she returned to her senses enough to open her eyes.
Finn's weight pinned her against the rug. His chest was heaving in great gasping breaths and their bodies were slick with sweat. She ran her fingers through his soft hair. Not in her wildest dreams had she thought she could feel this way. But this was no dream.
Finn raised his head, looked at her and smiled. "A good thing we came up here, love. Otherwise I think the whole castle might have heard that."
Eleanor laughed, joy blowing through her like a summer wind. "Imagine the embarrassment at breakfast!"
He lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked down at her. "Aye. But up here we can make as much noise as we like."
She pulled him down to kiss her again, already feeling desire stir inside her once more. "Then let's see if we can bring the roof down."
MUCH, MUCH LATER ELEANOR woke with a start. She wasn't sure what had awoken her but she could have sworn she heard somebody calling her name. She looked around, rubbing at her bleary eyes. The fire had died down to embers, casting the room in a warm, ruddy glow. Finlay lay on his side, curled protectively around her, one arm flung across her hips. Looking at him, Eleanor smiled. He looked so peaceful in sleep. Her heart swelled. God, how she loved him.
She almost settled back down to sleep but she suddenly heard that voice again. It wasn't a sound but more like a summons ringing in her head.
She wriggled out of Finn's embrace, careful not to wake him, and wrapped herself in his plaid. Silently she padded to the door and stepped outside onto the veranda. It was a warm night and the Highlands stretched away ahead of her, a dark cloak spread across the face of the world.
Eleanor pulled in a deep breath of the still night air, feeling it settle into her lungs, sweet and fresh.
"Ye look well, lass. The Highland air obviously agrees with ye."
Eleanor spun. A figure was sitting in one of the chairs on the veranda. She spotted the silhouette of a tiny woman, a bun curled around the back of the head and a wide smile sparkling in the darkness.
"Irene?" Eleanor asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"
Irene MacAskill's smile widened. "Speaking to ye by the looks of it, my dear." She patted the seat next to her.
Warily, Eleanor edged over to it and sat. "Let me put it another way. Why are you here?"
"Ah, now that's a better question," Irene replied jovially. "Ye are getting better at this, my dear. Why am I here? To complete the circle, of course. It's all about choice, as I think ye've figured out. Ye were given a choice when ye came here. Ye chose to walk a dangerous path and in so doing help restore the balance of the world. Now ye must make another choice. Will ye remain here? Or do ye still wish to go home?"
"You would send me home?" Eleanor asked, startled.
Irene nodded. "If that is yer choice."
Eleanor stared at the woman. Irene stared back, her eyes dark and unreadable. "Did you know what would happen?" Eleanor asked. "When I came back in time? Did you know I'd meet Finn? And everything that followed?"
Irene reached out and patted Eleanor's hand. Her skin felt as dry as old parchment. "Didnae I tell ye that sometimes we are born many miles and many years apart from those whose lives we are meant to share? This was the case with ye and young Finlay. Aye, I knew ye'd meet. But beyond that? I knew naught for certain. It's all about choice, remember? Everything ye’ve done, all the steps that led ye here have been made of yer own volition. I canna act to influence ye. Such a thing would destroy the balance."
"And you have rules you can’t break," Eleanor said. "Rules and bargains govern the Fae just as much as they govern us."
"Aye," Irene said nodding. "And that's why I'm here. A second choice, Eleanor Stevenson. Will ye go home? Or choose to stay here?"
Eleanor sighed and looked out into the Highland night. Just a few short months ago she would have jumped at Irene's offer. She'd wanted nothing more than to return to everything she knew. But now? It was no choice at all.
"I've already made my decision," she said. "I made it that day by Brigid’s Hollow.” She turned to look at Irene. “You were right. I was walking the wrong path. Now I’ve found the right one at last.”
Irene’s face broke into a wide, cherubic smile. “Ah, it gladdens my heart to hear ye say such a thing, lass. It makes it all worthwhile.”
“Is it over now?” she asked. “The Fae that cursed the MacAuley brothers is defeated?”
“For now,” Irene replied and she suddenly looked old and tired. “But the struggle to keep the balance is a never-e
nding one. Light and dark. Day and night. Winter and Summer. Always pulling against each other.”
“Just as the Fae do?” Eleanor replied.
Irene watched her steadily for a moment. “Aye, like the Fae,” she breathed at last. “A never ending struggle between the Seelie and Unseelie. Those who would guard yer kind and those who would harm them.” Then she brightened, her eyes sparkling and a smile spreading across her face. “But tonight, all is well with the world. Tonight is a good night to be alive. Go on, my dear. Return to yer husband. If he wakes and finds ye gone he is likely to tear the house down.”
Eleanor smiled and climbed to her feet. Then, on impulse, she bent down and gave Irene a hug. “Thank you,” she breathed. “For everything.”
The woman’s thin arms came around Eleanor, returning the embrace with a delighted laugh. “Ye are most welcome, my dear.”
Eleanor stepped back, gave Irene a nod of farewell, then walked back to the house. With each step she took she felt her future settling around her. Her feet were finally on the right path. Finally.
Once inside she leaned on the closed door for a moment, watching Finn sleep. Then she lay down next to him, threw the plaid over them both and burrowed into his embrace. His warmth began seeping into her skin and contentment washed over her.
Yes, she was finally on the right path. And tomorrow she would begin taking the first steps into her new future. And Finlay MacAuley would be by her side every step of the way.
THE END
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WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN destiny comes knocking?
Irene Buchanan is running from hers. Gifted with fae blood, she is fated to become the Guardian of the Highlands.
But Irene wants none of it. Soon to be married to her childhood sweetheart, she has everything she ever dreamed of. Why would she risk that for a bargain with the fae?
But Irene can’t run forever. When a terrifying act of violence rips all she loves from her, she realizes she must confront her destiny. If she doesn’t, she risks the destruction of all she holds dear.
The fate of the Highlands lies in her hands.