With effort, I righted myself, caught his now hungrier eyes and whispered, “You’re killing me, baby.”
“No, I’m not, wee one,” he whispered back. “Just feel me.”
“I feel you,” I promised and I did, oh yeah, I did.
“Watch me take you,” he ordered quietly, still going slow, deep, so, so sweet.
“I’m watching, Frey,” I breathed and I was and it was spectacular.
His eyes moved from my face down my body to our connection then slowly up again and by the time they made it back to my face my back arched, my legs hooked tight around his arms and my sex started spasming.
God, I was going to come. Just with this. I was going to come.
Oh God, so close.
“You’re beautiful, Finnie, but by the gods you have never been more beautiful than you are right now, spread before me, wrapped in my wool and filled with me,” he murmured and that was it, my hips jerked violently, my neck arched back and a slow, low, sweet whimper escaped me as a slow, deep, unbelievably sweet orgasm swept through me.
I hadn’t finished before he moved his arms, unhooking my legs and he dropped to a forearm on one side of me, his other arm wrapping around my back and he drove me down as he drove up, finally faster, harder, shifting his hips back and forth as he memorized every inch of the heart of me and he did this while I watched in deep fascination, holding him tight to me with all four limbs until his jaw clenched and a low, slow, sweet rumble tore out of his chest as he poured into me.
I loved it, every second of it from start to finish.
See? Totally screwed.
Again. Sex. Again. No birth control.
Okay, no. Again, fantastic sex. But, again. No birth control!
He stayed inside me and took my mouth in a kiss as slow, sweet, deep and wet as how he just made love to me then he released my mouth but stayed close and slid his nose along mine.
God, I’d missed that too.
Then his head moved back an inch, he caught my eyes and his were languid but they were also serious.
Hmm. Taking in that look, I was thinking it was uh-oh time.
“I’m best pleased to have you back, my Finnie,” he said gently. “Best pleased,” he repeated and my limbs got tighter then even tighter when he whispered, “I missed you too, wee one.”
“Frey –” I whispered but he cut me off.
“But mark this, I’ll not tolerate you going away again. It’s important you understand me. We are new, you and I, you needed time to come to terms with all you had learned, time, I will add, that I gave you and time that you took but I will tell you that you took too much of it.” Hmm. I couldn’t say he was wrong about that. Then he finished with, “But I won’t allow it again. Is this understood?”
I stared up at him.
He said he’d not tolerate me going away again.
He’d not tolerate me going away.
And, in about ten months, I was definitely going to go away.
Shit, I had to tell him.
Shit. Somehow, someway, I had to figure out how to explain what this was, who I was, where I was from and get him to believe me. Then explain to him we could have all of this and we could enjoy it, we had time, a lot of it.
But then that time would end and I would go home.
I held his eyes as fear started to rise inside me, panic, anxiety and something else, something far more painful, something I refused, at that point when I was hanging onto bliss, to understand.
Then I started, “Frey –”
“Don’t,” he growled harshly and I blinked at his sudden fierce tone.
Then I had to so I whispered, “But you have to know something about –”
“I know, Finnie.”
I blinked again as my heart skipped a beat.
Frey kept talking. “I know how you’ve come to me.”
I felt my lips part in shock, his eyes dropped to them then they came back to mine, warm and sweet.
“I know who you are, my love. I know how you’ve come to me. I know you are Finnie.”
Oh. My. God!
He knew I was Finnie!
“How –?”
“That doesn’t matter, just know I know and we don’t need to speak of it. We never need to speak of it. This is the now and you have no choice but to live in the now. You never have a choice but to live in the now. And this, my wee Finnie, this is where we will live. We will always live in our now.”
I felt my eyes start to fill with tears (yes! again!) because he knew and he understood and it felt like a weight had lifted from me. He knew about me, who I was and how I came to him and he apparently understood the way it was between us and that it would end and therefore we had to live in the now.
But even as that weight lifted and I started to feel light, immediately something else started to drag me down and I whispered, “Frey –”
He interrupted me by touching his mouth to mine.
When he lifted his head, his eyes held mine and he whispered, “You are not in the now, Finnie.”
I wasn’t. I was thinking about the future and leaving him.
Shit.
“Come to the now, wee one,” he urged and I nodded.
The now. That sounded like something Dad would say. Live in the now.
And I would live in the now with Frey. And I’d enjoy every second of it while I had it.
Then a knock came at the door.
I held his eyes.
Then, forcing myself into the now, I joked, “The now, apparently, means food.”
He grinned. Then he said, “This is good since I’m starved. My wife worked all my energy out of me.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” I teased.
“I am not,” he stated with all seriousness and the weight of those three words made me go still under him as he continued, “It was beyond anything I could have wished it to be. You are, my wee Finnie, beyond my wildest dreams.”
Oh my God. Did he just say that?
I stared at him and it hit me not only did he just say that, he meant it.
Then my eyes flooded with tears and I whispered, “Oh shit,” lifted my face and shoved it in his throat as I burst into tears and I did this loudly.
Another knock came at the door.
Frey gently pulled out of me, rolled to his back, settled me into his side, hauled up the covers and held me close as he shouted, “Enter!” and I tensed but that didn’t keep me from continuing to sob into his skin.
The door opened, I shoved closer to Frey and held on tighter.
As did he.
Then I heard him order, “Leave it and us. Quickly.”
I smelled food and heard clinking and clunking then, shortly after that stopped, a door closed.
Frey held me tightly long after the door closed and I kept sobbing not realizing how badly I needed to do it but I’d apparently bottled a lot in because there was a lot coming out and in the safety of his strong arms, I let it go.
Once the sobs started to subside, one of Frey’s hands moved under his sweater and up to stroke the skin of my back as I snuffled and lifted a hand to wipe my face.
“All right, wee one?” he asked softly.
“Mm hmm,” I mumbled, nodding my head, resting my cheek on his shoulder and wrapping my arm around him again.
Frey kept stroking my back.
It felt really nice.
And it was then I thought of when we were riding to Fyngaard and Frey telling me about the villages, their names and their gods and what the rivers and forests were called.
He knew then. He knew.
It all came to me in a rush, his gentle explanations, his patience, those weird times when I’d watch him come to some understanding, times that were now not so weird.
He knew. And he’d known for awhile.
“When did you know?” I whispered to his chest.
“Finnie –”
I gave him a squeeze and repeated, “Tell me, when did you know?”