Page 65 of Lore of the Tides

She told him this.

Finndryl listened to her, his face resigned, patient, as he waited for her to finish.

Silence. Lore bit her lip, glancing upward to stop the tears from escaping. She’d ruined the whole of everything between them. Just like she knew she would. “I understand your fear,” he began, his voice low and steady. He reached out, brushing a stray curl away from her face, his touch a lightning bolt. “You think you are too messy, your circumstances too... much. You think I want a butterfly flitting from flower to flower in the sunshine without a care in the world?”

He paused, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that madeher breath catch. “You are more moth than butterfly,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, as he cupped her chin, tilting her face up. “I’m not afraid of the darkness that follows you... that tries, even now, to bury you. Instead of being lost to it, you thrived.”

His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, delicious heat spreading through her at the contact. “The dark means stars and moonlight... You shinegoldenin the moonlight; you thrive under the glow of the stars, Lore. You are worthy of adoration. Unveil your mosaic wings for me. Let me adore you.”

His words suspended in the space between them, thick with emotion. He knew how messy her life was, and he didn’t care; he’d never shied away.

Her eyes dipped down to his full lips. They were perfect, pillow soft, in the shape of a bow. And she was hungry for the taste of them.

That brief kiss hadn’t been enough.

The whispered words he’d spoken against her mouth lingered. He would be by her side. If she would have him.

And gods, did she want to have him.

She knew that the list of reasons why she shouldn’t give in to what she wanted and kiss him, touch him, taste him, which she’d been repeating for days now, should be stopping her. But in truth, she couldn’t think of a single one of those reasons that he hadn’t already heard, and decided it didn’t matter right now when he was this close, and he’d just kissed her.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek, his calluses rough, his thumb tracing her lower lip, maddeningly soft, as his eyes devoured her face, hungry.

“Kiss me again, Finn. Please.”

He expressed a sharp exhale of breath at her request and claimed her as his with the hot brand of his mouth. He peppered her jaw and throat with kisses, and she tilted her head, welcoming them, her eyes fluttering closed. Goosebumps rippled over her arms, andbefore she could talk herself out of it, she dug her fingers into his locs and angled his jaw so that his mouth covered hers.

The world stopped.

For a moment, everything halted: all her worries, her fears, her stupid fucking ideas that this shouldn’t be happening, that they should ever be doing anything other thanthismarvelous act.

She pressed her fingers just beneath the elegant curve of his jaw and felt his pulse thrumming beneath them.

She was what was making his heart race. A thrill shot through Lore, and she parted her lips, inviting him to explore, and he did, his tongue flicking over her lip, savoring her, as a shudder of pleasure wicked through her.

Lore nibbled on his bottom lip, delight sending a pulse straight to her core as Finndryl growled and pushed her back against the bookshelf, his large hands protecting her head and back from the stone edge.

He kissed her with a dizzying fervor; his hand roamed over her body, skimming along the curves of her hips, settling on her ass. Finndryl lifted Lore, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he pinned her to the bookshelf. She moaned into his mouth and moved against him. Pressed between them, Lore could feel the impressive length of him straining at the waistband of his trousers, and she needed to feel himthere,at that pulsing, throbbing spot between her thighs.

Finn hissed at the movement and deepened the kiss, his mouth moving faster across hers, exploring her with his tongue. He gripped her ass tighter and ground into her, eliciting another moan from her, as his length brushed against her center.

“You feel so good, so warm and soft, and I’m not even inside you,” he said, as he scraped his teeth along the sensitive skin of her jaw.

His words made her shiver with heat; just the thought of him being inside her was enough to make her abandon all reason. She pressed into his hardness, rhythmic now, and trailed her own kissesup his throat. His dark skin was so damned smooth and soft; she could smell the oil he’d massaged into it that morning, taste that bourbon scent that had driven her mad for months, the taste sharp and bright on her tongue.

His hands found their way beneath the pleated fabric of her skirt, his fingers flitting along the laced edge of her panties. She wriggled, wanting him to—

“Touch me,” she stammered.

“These are in the way.”

“Take them off.”

With a growl, he pulled her tightly against him and dropped, lowering them both until he was pinning her to the ground.

She was flat on her back, the soft sand forming to her instantly, and he was kissing her still, expertly managing to lift her skirt and slide her panties down without parting his lips from hers.

She twisted to help him slip her underthings from her ankle, and when he parted her legs, he broke the kiss and leaned back on his knees so he could gaze upon her, unhindered.