“We’ll find a way to get around your skill.” He arched a brow, rather challengingly. “We’re soul bound, which means there is nothing we can’t overcome if we truly wish to be together.” He stood and pointed at the bed. “Get in there now, or else I’ll put you in there, and join you.”
“You clearly didnae listen to a word I just said. You are so frustrating.” She huffed, blew out the candle and clambered in underneath her fur bedcovers while Finlay strode to her hearth and stared at the flames. The fire’s glow flickered across his high cheeks and lit the shoulder-length ends of his midnight-black hair, turning it a glorious sizzling blue. He was one of the most striking men she’d ever beheld, and it certainly didn’t help that everything about him called to her, from his current fiery mood to the teasingly sensuous smile that had lifted his lips earlier at the loch. Aye, she was entranced by him, just as she shouldn’t be. “I cannae sleep if you’re going to stare at the fire all night, Finlay.”
“I’ve spoken the truth about the two of us being mated. I know the difference between how I’ve felt being around you and every other lass I’ve ever known.”
“There’s no full moon.” That was the only night when their senses could truly lead them to their chosen ones. “So you must be mistaken.”
“There’s no mistake. I’ve been searching for you for five long years, which includes dozens of full moons, and I know you are mine.” He gazed at her bed, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I’m itching to join you, to hold you through the night. Already I can’t stand this distance and it’s only a few feet.”
His words sent a shimmer of heat through her. Good grief, how annoying. “You can stay right where you are.”
“Or I could join you. I give you my word I’ll do no more than hold you through the night. It would ease both our frustration.” He kicked off his boots and sauntered closer, his move so like that of a bear on the prowl for a tasty treat. She should tell him to return to the chair, only the words wouldn’t move past her lips. Instead, she watched wide-eyed as he rolled in under the covers and faced her. “May I touch you, Arabel?”
“You clearly have a death wish.”
“No, my only wish has ever been to find my chosen one and never let her go.” He stroked one hand over her hip, drew her a touch closer, until the blazing heat of his body stamped itself right into her.
“I—” She couldn’t turn away from his desire-filled eyes, didn’t even have a chance to. “Tell me more about you and your kin, Finlay.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Whatever you wish to share.”
“My parents are mated and my father is the chief of our clan. Of my two brothers, Iain is the eldest by a couple of minutes, and Kirk younger than me by the same length of time. We also share a brotherly bond that allows us to sense each other’s emotions.”
“You do?” How incredible. “Can you sense their emotions now?”
“Iain’s are the strongest, the most ecstatic, and I’d say he’s abed with Isla.”
“Oh dear, you can tell when he’s—” She pressed a hand to her mouth, her cheeks flushing with heat. “What of Kirk?”
“Kirk’s curiosity is strong. He can sense my sudden contentment since it’s no doubt blasting down our line.” He swept her golden hair back and exposed her neck. “I’m also the most competitive of the three of us, as well as the most level-headed.”
“You are hardly level-headed, no’ when you wish to tangle with me.”
A low growl rumbled from his throat and his claws sliced out.
“Your bear doesn’t approve of my estimation?” She fluffed her pillow and tucked it more securely under her head.
“Ignore my bear.”
“Your bear is impossible to ignore. He’s both sizeable and pushy, as is the man.”
“I haven’t even begun to get pushy with you yet.” He leaned closer, claws retracting as he touched his nose to hers. “But when I do, you’ll know, because I intend to enjoy a bite or two of you.”
Gilleoin was always biting Aunt Sorcha, and now Kenneth, her cousin and Gilleoin’s firstborn son, had mated with Elizabeth, a good friend of hers from the village and since that day, her friend too had sported red marks on her neck. Love bites, Elizabeth had called them.
“Have you ever bitten a lass afore?” she asked him.
“When a shifter bites his mate and his mate bites him, it is a mark of claim. It’s also an aphrodisiac to both the giver and the receiver.” His hungry gaze slid to her neck. “The need to bite you is strong.”
“An aphrodis-iac?” She stumbled over the unknown word. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Our bite excites sexual desire, which means we only ever bite our chosen ones.”
She smoothed her palm over her neck and her now throbbing pulse. Warmth rippled out from the spot and made her heat in places she had no wish to heat. “Biting sounds barbaric.”
“Would you like to see if it is?” Another glimmer of challenge lit his eyes.
“You are a terrible tease.”
“As are you.” He curled his hand more firmly around her hip and sighed in complete contentment. “Thank you for allowing me in your bed.”
“I hardly had a choice.”