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The room was enormous, as Finn might have expected if she’d given it any thought whatsoever.
He had a bedroom against the farthest wall, but there was also a set of arm chairs, a television on the wall and a walk-through wardrobe. She presumed the other door housed a private bathroom. The décor in his room was modern and obviously top-end.
That was all she got to take in. Caradoc’s mouth was on hers again, his head blocking any view she had of the room. It was madness. Did she care?
Her fingers tangled in his silver hair, and her body was pressing against his, powered by the ne
ed that was overtaking every fibre of her being. She wanted to forget the stupidity of what they were doing and simply feel.
Caradoc knelt before her so that he could peel her jeans off again, and this time, he made sure to remove her underwear too. Her sweater quickly followed.
Naked, he was exalted. He wanted to stare at her. To study her.
“Stand there,” he said with his trademark authority on display.
“Why?” She said with a small laugh. “It’s cold.”
“Not for long,” he promised. His eyes devoured her, and where he looked, she felt a corresponding ache.
“Why are you staring at me?” She said self-consciously, her smile lopsided.
“You are impossible not to stare at,” he murmured. He moved towards her and caught a handful of her hair in his fist. “I pictured you naked, with this spectacular hair of yours running down your back. I like it like this. Out and wild, as I suspect you are.”
“I’m not wild,” she promised huskily.
“Let’s see, shall we?” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. His kiss was powerful and it quickly swept away the last vestiges of any concerns she’d felt. She wanted him. Maybe she was wild! At least, maybe she could be, just for one night. Her hands clawed at his clothes, pushing at them until he was naked, too. She delighted in touching his body; in feeling it beneath her palms. His skin was warm and smooth, but for his hair-roughened chest.
Yet she forced herself to pull away and study him like a bug in a microscope. He watched her look at him, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
“You are impossible not to stare at,” she repeated his words back at him, earning a proper grin in response.
“Touché.” He sobered instantly. “Now. Get in the bed.”
“Are you always this bossy?” She responded, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Yes.” His arms were strong; they lifted her easily over his shoulder and carried her to the King Size. He deposited her gently in the middle and then brought his body on top of hers. Their nakedness was intimate and Finn gripped his shoulders hard at the expectation of what was to come.
And yet, the moment he unfurled a condom and sheathed his length, she was filled with a strange sense of perfect rightness. As though, strangers or not, this was a moment she would always remember.
Her green eyes met his, and her smile was broad. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”
And regardless of the heartbreak that would follow, Finn had been truly glad, in that moment at least.
* * *
“They just don’t make engines like this anymore.” Dougal’s voice, from beneath the car, was muffled.
But that wasn’t why Finn hadn’t heard.
She was distracted. It had been four days since arriving at Bagleyhurst and that meant four nights in Caradoc’s bed. Even now, in the arctic garages, she felt her pulse begin to run like lava through her veins.
He had been right.
She was wild.
When it came to Caradoc there were no limitations for Finn. She was his willing student; desperate to enjoy anything he wished to show her. And there was so much she didn’t know.
Her sexual education, until meeting him, had been insanely dull.
