29. The Stars Align #4
I let her feel it, the slow stretch, the deliberate curl of my fingers as I find that spot within her that will undo her completely. The second I stroke it, she gasps, writhes, her thighs quivering at the sheer pleasure of it.
“That’s it, Tri,” I murmur, voice low, nearly lost against the delicate skin of her inner thigh.
Then I seal my lips over her clit, sucking her deep, dragging my tongue over that aching bundle of nerves, rolling it in slow, deliberate strokes.
She is helpless beneath me, her hands fisting the sheets, her legs shaking, her body nothing more than pleasure and need—
And mine .
“Let me hear you fall apart.”
Her head lurches against the pillow as the sound of her pleasure, that exquisite cry right before the final peak, fills the room. The intensity of the moment surges through me—my arousal thunders painfully, and I can feel that all-too-familiar wet heat gathering at the tip.
“ Finn! ”
My name erupts in a raw, primal cry as she shatters beneath me.
It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
Her surrender is my undoing, a perfect blend of vulnerability and strength that leaves me in awe.
As the aftershocks ripple through her, I rise, sliding into position above her, just as I’ve dreamed of for countless nights.
“Make me yours. I need to feel you stretching me, filling me,” she entreats, her voice trembling with desperate fervour, the sound weaving through me like a siren’s call.
In response, a moan erupts from me, a sound that speaks of unbridled desire and instinct, echoing her plea without a single word.
“By the gods, Triona,” I rasp. “Ye’ve got a sinful tongue.”
She meets my gaze with a sultry smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Aye, Finn,” she purrs as she reaches for me, her hand finding the bulge straining against my trousers. I groan as she strokes me through the fabric. “You pull it right out of me.”
Then, with a soft, commanding urgency, she adds, “I need to see you, Finn. All of you.”
I rise and begin shedding the rest of my clothes, each piece falling away at a measured pace as I hold her gaze.
I slowly remove each piece with purpose, giving her time to admire my body, just as she asked, revelling in the hungry way she drinks me in.
With measured care, I undo the string at my waist and free my aching cock, savouring the profound pleasure of watching her take in all of me for the very first time.
“Oh, Finn,” she says in awe. “You’re magnificent.”
She rises gracefully, her perfect breasts bouncing with each movement. With a deliberate slowness, she loops her fingers around my cock.
“Is this what you want? What you like?” Kneeling before me, she looks dangerously sinful—her eyes blazing with a wild, untamed allure that both seduces and challenges.
All I manage is a low “hmmm,” a murmur of surrender that betrays my helpless passion.
“You feel like the softest velvet in my hand.” She exhales a sultry, heated breath that causes me to jerk in her grasp. My eyes flutter closed as she strokes me, root to tip, marveling at my size and the way I twitch at her touch.
The head of my cock is weeping with arousal .
Hesitantly, as if testing whether I might retreat, she leans in and swipes the tip of her tongue over my slit, collecting the glistening evidence of my need, and I become a man possessed.
I lose the fight to keep my hands to myself, and I move one hand to the back of her head while gently tangling my fingers in her hair, drawing her closer as our shared hunger ignites into a fierce, consuming passion.
I tilt her head up, silently ensuring this is okay.
“Your taste… it’s an an enchanting elixir. I want more. Show me how to move. How to make you come undone at my touch.”
Holy feckin’ inferno and all that is divine.
I take a slow, steading breathe to quell the need for release. Wanting to draw this out longer. “Wrap your hand around my base,” I bite out, and wait for her to position herself there, “and take the tip of me into your mouth.” She smiles before biting her lip.
I leave enough space for her to set the pace, holding my breath in awe as I watch her wet her lips, and draw me into her mouth without ever breaking our locked gaze.
A feral groan escapes my throat—a sound echoing the frenzy of our passion.
Then, as the heat of desire surges through me, a rugged exclamation bursts out—“Ach, you feckin’ braw thing!”—followed swiftly by a raw plea, “Gods… please dinnae stop,” the unfiltered desperation mirroring the savage intensity consuming us both.
She chuckles around my length, and the throbbing vibration sends shudders cascading through me. I’d laugh too if I wasn’t so focused on the exquisite interplay of her mouth and hand, while I struggle to maintain my composure long enough to give her exactly what she’s been begging for.
“That’s it, mo chroí ,” I rasp.
The sentiment fuels something wild inside her, spurring her on, and she picks up speed. Every nerve in me ignites, as I can no longer handle the overwhelming sensation, my body trembling beneath the fierce intensity of her movements.
“Triona,” I groan, as my hand covered hers. She pops off of my cock with a look of disappointment in her eyes. I sense her oncoming protest, so lean forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s fierce, desperate, and utterly consuming.
“I cannae wait any longer,” I murmur against her mouth. “I need to be yours, fully and completely.”
Her fingers tighten around me as she whispers, “Then take me, Finn. Take all of me. ”
I push her back and make quick work as I lower myself onto her with a care that belies the storm raging within me.
I settle between her thighs, the warmth of her drawing me closer. My hands slide down her sides, her skin soft and trembling under my palms, until I reach her hips. I steady myself, my body poised at her entrance.
“It might hurt at first, and you might bleed.”
“I know, Finn. I want it. I want you, and nothing is going to change that.”
I pause, breathing her in, feeling the weight of the moment—the gravity of what we’re about to share.
“Look at me while I enter you,” she nods, gaze locked on mine, and what I see there steals the breath from my lungs. Love, longing, and something so achingly raw it makes my chest tighten.
I grip her hip tight, fingers digging into heated skin, holding her still, steady, open for me as I drag myself through her slick heat—letting the thick, swollen head of my cock tease her entrance—but not giving in yet.
“ I’m yours. ”
The words spill from me, a vow, a promise, a surrender, spoken just as I push the tip of me into her.
Her body yields to mine, welcoming me, and the sensation is indescribable—a blend of heat and connection so deep it feels as if our souls are colliding.
A throaty moan rips from her as she lifts her hips, taking me all the way in, all at once—we both cry out, the sensation too much, too perfect, too right.
Her body welcomes mine as if she were crafted for me, opening instinctively, perfectly. The first thrust steals my breath, the connection instant and electric, as though the universe itself has aligned just for us.
Her nails bite into my skin as I drive deeper, setting a rhythm that leaves us both trembling.
“ Triona .”
Her name is a prayer, a plea, a worshipful groan as I press a line of kisses down her throat, my teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver beneath me.
“I want to hear you.” My voice is thick, dripping with need as I drive deeper, hips rolling in slow, deliberate, relentless circles. “Every gasp, every moan. Let me know how good I make you feel. ”
Her body trembles, her breath hitches, her nails raking down my arms as she clutches me tighter, pulling me impossibly closer.
“Finn,” she moans, voice dripping with both need and impatience. “Please. Harder.”
My hand drifts lower, claiming her, finding a firm grip on her plump arse, using it to pull her into every thrust, guiding her to take more, to take everything.
She arches beneath me, her back bowing, her thighs spreading wider, cradling me as though I belong inside her.
She whimpers, pleads, voice breaking as I slip a hand between us, my fingers finding that swollen, aching place, stroking it with measured precision, matching every movement to the rhythm of my thrusts.
“More,” she pleads in a breathless whisper, every word heavy with longing. “Don’t hold back. I want all of it. All of you.”
Each thrust elicits a chorus of soft, trembling gasps and husky moans—sounds that signal her nearing the edge, that whisper of a pleasure about to burst forth.
Every exhalation, every subtle, yearning cry from her lips, drives me onward, compelling me to worship her body as though it were my salvation.
“Come for me,” I command, the movement of my hand against her swollen bundle a perfect tempo. “Come for me. Let me feel you fall apart.”
Her head tips back, and a broken moan escapes her lips as her body tenses beneath me, trembling on the very edge of release.
With one final, perfectly timed stroke—synchronised with the rhythm of my hips—she shatters, her body convulsing around me as every nerve ignites in a wild pulse of surrender.
Her cries of pleasure push me over the edge.
My rhythm falters, and a deep groan tears from my throat as I bury myself fully.
“Triona—”
Her name erupts from me, a raw, guttural groan, my hips locking to hers as my climax rips through me, pleasure so intense, so overwhelming I can do nothing but give her everything I have left.
I spill deep inside her, my body shaking with the aftershocks of it, my arms trembling as I brace myself above her, refusing to let us part just yet.
I press my forehead to hers, our ragged breaths mingling, my hands still caressing, still claiming, still worshipping.
“Ye’re mine,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion .
“Now and always . ”
Finn
In the aftermath, we lay together, bodies entwined.
The fire crackles softly in the corner, its warmth a pale reflection of the heat still lingering between us.
My chest rises and falls beneath her cheek, her breath brushing against my skin in a way that feels familiar.
As her fingers brush against me, a flicker of worry surfaces.
I shift slightly, tilting my head to look down at her.
“Are you hurting?” I ask softly, concern thick in my tone.
A faint, wry smile tugs at her lips. “It’s a pain unlike any other,” she says, her voice soft and angelic. “It’s bittersweet, because I’ll miss it when it’s gone. It reminds me of something so beautiful it’s worth hurting for.”
A laugh breaks from my chest, warm and unrestrained. “Leave it to you to make that sound poetic,” I say, my grin widening as I brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “Ye’re impossible, you know that?”
Her soft laugh joins mine, the sound weaving its way into the quiet intimacy of the moment, and I can’t help but marvel at how perfectly she fits into my arms.
She continues to trace delicate, aimless patterns across my chest, each touch igniting something deeper than desire. It’s as if she’s trying to memorise me, to claim every inch of me, and I let her, gladly giving her all of me without hesitation.
“Ye’re the most stunnin’ woman in existence,” I murmur, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate intimacy of the moment.
She looks at me then, her eyes—those captivating eyes—glistening with unspoken emotion .
“Your woman… And you, Finnis MacGregor, are mine now,” she mumbles, her voice tinged with a quiet, unshakable possessiveness. A declaration… a truth that settles over me like a warm, merciless embrace. My chest tightens, overwhelmed by the sheer power of her words and the depth of what they mean.
“Aye,” I whisper, my hand finding hers, threading our fingers together. “For every breath I take and long after I’m gone.”
Her lips curve into the faintest smile, and I press a kiss to her knuckles, lingering as if to seal the vow we just exchanged.
Her body curls into mine, soft and warm, her breathing even and peaceful.
My arms wrap around her, protective and steadfast, and I press my lips to her hair, breathing in the faint scent of primrose that clings to her.
The quiet rise and fall of her chest becomes my anchor, a rhythm that soothes every restless part of me I hadn’t realised was still there.
She isn’t a dream anymore. She is mine now.
Every answered prayer, every whispered wish cast into the wind, every quiet hope I clung to in the darkest hours of my life.
She is real—warm, soft, breathing steadily in my arms—and for the first time, the weight of what she means to me isn’t an ache, but a balm, soothing every broken piece of my soul.
I know with unshakable certainty that I’ll give her my last name.
That she will be mine in every way the world will allow.
The thought isn’t fleeting; it’s a truth that settles deep in my chest. Not a question of if, but when—when I’ll hear her say my name as hers, when I’ll see the joy in her eyes as she realises she is my future, my forever.
But tonight, this moment, holds something even more precious. For the first time in my life, I get to do the one thing I spent countless days only dreaming of doing.
I get to hold Triona while she sleeps.