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The two women hugged each other, and from that moment on until Clodagh died of old age many years later, they were as close as mother and daughter.
* * *
The weather was mild for an October evening, but Greta still found that she was shivering. The night before she was due to marry Finn, she stood at the top of the cliff looking onto the river and watched the moonlight drawing a crooked, shining line down its choppy waters.
She reflected that her relationship with Finn had been a rough but strangely beautiful time, too. Sometimes happy, thrilling, and passionate, sometimes terrifying and miserable, but never tedious.
She smiled into the darkness and hugged herself. It all seemed so funny now, but as she recalled her first encounter with him, her pitchfork against his sword, the feeling of terror had been all too real and almost paralyzing. She shivered at the memory. She could never, in her wildest dreams, have thought that she would fall in love with him.
Presently, she heard the rustling of bushes behind her and felt rather than saw Finn approaching her. She turned around and gazed at the man who was soon to be her husband. He was taller than any other man she had ever seen, and the planes of his face, gilded with the cold silver moonlight, looked almost like a marble statue. However, as he wrapped his arms around her and the warmth of his body began to sink into her, she realized that he was a real, loving human man. Her man.
“Stay away from the edge,” Finn warned her as he picked her up and drew her over to the shelter of the trees. It was darker there, and he could barely see her face, but all that mattered to him was that she was in his arms, and that was enough. He sank his face into her thick, soft hair and inhaled the fragrance of the woman who meant everything in the world to him.
“Did ye think I was goin’ tae jump off?” she asked, laughing softly. “Why, I would never do that—not now. Not when I have found ye at last, lovie.”
Greta felt the rumble of his laugh against her. “An’ I will never let ye go,” he whispered. “Ye are far too precious tae me.”
She laid her head against his chest and felt the strong thud of his heartbeat against her ear, then raised her face to his for a kiss.
He bent his head to touch her lips with his, then gently turned her around so that her back was against the rough bark of a spruce tree. It should have made her uncomfortable, but her whole being was focused on Finn. He ground his hips against her so that she could feel how much she affected him.
Greta groaned as she felt the stiffness of his flesh against hers, and her private place began to throb and pulse, growing delightfully warm and wet. She wanted him as she had never wanted him before, but there was only one more day to wait before she was his. Only one more day. Should she give in? What did a few hours matter?
“Is it worth waitin’ darlin’?” Finn’s voice was hoarse as he placed his hands around her body under her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.
They were deliciously sensitive, as was the rest of her body, and every nerve ending seemed to be pulsing with desire.
“There is less than a day now.” His voice was tempting, so tempting. “What does it matter if we are married or nae?”
“We have no’ made any vows,” Greta whispered, her voice shaking.
Finn bit her earlobe gently and licked the sensitive flesh underneath it at the edge of her jawbone. She writhed in pleasure as Finn kissed her again, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to stroke hers while rubbing himself against her with so much force that she thought he might crush her into the tree she was standing against.
Greta pushed him away. She was breathless, and her heart was beating so fast that she thought it might burst out of her chest.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I am sorry, lovie,” he whispered. “I did no’ mean tae be so rough. I just want ye so much.”
“Show me what ye started tae do last time,” Greta murmured.
He nodded and pushed her skirt above her knees. “Ye smell of sunshine,” he whispered, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Don't be an eejit,” she laughed, then she gasped as she felt his tongue on a part of herself that no one but herself had touched since she was a baby. “What…what are ye doin’?” she gasped.
“D’ye like it?” Finn asked mischievously. “Because I like it, but if ye don’t, I will stop.”
“No! Don't stop!” she cried desperately. “I want more.”
“So do I,” Finn growled, then he swept his tongue down the soft wetness of her folds from front to back and back to front over and over again until Greta could hardly stand the pleasure.
Then he did something utterly shocking. He plunged his tongue inside her and thrust in and out while she grabbed handfuls of his thick auburn hair and almost pulled them out as she writhed against the tree. However, the best was yet to come. Finn moved to the small hard nub at the most sensitive spot on her body and began to tease it with his tongue and his teeth, licking and nibbling it until Greta screamed in ecstasy.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, looking up into Finn’s eyes. “What was that?”
“Did ye like it?” he asked her, grinning as he ran his hands back through the tangled mess of his hair, which had been thoroughly disarranged during Greta’s frenzy.
Greta nodded frantically.
“I don’t know what it is called,” he answered. “There is a fancy name for it, but…”
