A/N: Sorry to take so long to update! I struggle with writing chapters like these. The next few chapters shouldn't take so long. Thank you for reading!
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When Cullen saw the bounce in Ser Yorric's step as he greeted him and headed off, he allowed his hopes to rise a little. Perhaps Finley wasn't as angry as he'd been lead to believe.
He'd arrived back in Skyhold to Leliana waiting with a message from the last inquisition camp he'd stopped in warning that their inquisitor was furious with him and on his heels. He'd left a few hours before sunrise, and she'd left two hours after—apparently she'd slept late.
Leliana had joked that she was surprised Finley hadn't overtaken him on the ride up. Bull had snorted at that, but then dismissed himself to go keep his promise to Finley about using the Qunari spy network to find 'her' templars.
That she would call them thus still made Cullen's skin crawl.
Leliana had laughed as Cullen murmured something about having good reasons.
"I'm not the one you'll need to convince, commander."
He'd stood there, a little lost as Leliana left swiftly, with an offhanded wave to him just before she disappeared into the main building. If Finley was really angry, there wasn't a lot he could do now, so why warn him? Had Leliana just wanted to see how he reacted to the news? Had she been hoping for more of an explanation? She certainly hadn't pried for one. And she'd seemed more amused than worried.
With her treating the whole thing as a joke, he'd decided that surely it wasn't as big a deal as she had made it out to be and decided that he would carry on as he'd intended. He'd come back early for more than a few reasons, after all.
Around the time Finley had sent her messages about finding red lyrium, he had sent word to Cassandra that she wouldn't need to find a replacement for him. Despite taking their time coming back, he hadn't heard back from the seaker, so he headed off to find her, hoping that she wasn't pulling her hair out because she'd already promised the position to someone else only for him to come back after almost three weeks to reclaim what he'd cast aside so readily.
When he reached the training dummies in the courtyard, however, he'd been directed back to his office. It surprised him a little, though he supposed she had said she would take care of things while he was gone.
When he entered the room, he found Cassandra sitting at his desk, working through a pile of paperwork that he should have been reviewing instead.
"Cassandra—"
"You will resume your duties tomorrow," she said, without looking up. "I refuse to let you work today. Finley would end us both, and I've no desire to face her wrath."
As Cullen straightened up a little, Cassandra finally looked up, a glimmer in her eyes and a faint smile that told him she was joking.
The small quirk to her lips disappeared quickly. "You should know, the message we received about her was riddled with words in all capital letters and more than a few were underlined. The scouts wanted you to understand what was coming for you." She paused. "Some of it was...odd, but Leliana assured me it was nothing."
"Odd?"
"One of the scouts wrote that you broke the inquisitor's heart, and another exed it out to say she wasn't interested in you like that. Then another exed that out and said something about tense relations." Cassandra shook her head. "I'm not sure why they felt we needed to know such things, but Leliana seemed more than a little amused by the...speculations."
As Cassandra rolled her eyes, Cullen couldn't help but wonder about that himself. He'd noticed that for months now more than a few people seemed to have their interest piqued if they saw him so much as look Finley's way.
It was a bit...disconcerting, to say the least, and at first it had made him wonder if he was doing something wrong to draw the attention. He'd finally dismissed it so that he could maintain his sanity, deciding people were likely just looking for gossip.
He'd asked someone else about it once, to make sure it wasn't in his head. Knight-captain Rylen had told him that everyone was rooting for him to 'get the girl'. Even now, thinking about it made Cullen scowl. What business was it of anyone else's whether he was infatuated with Finley or not? Whether he bedded her or not?
People needed better things to focus on. Like the darkspawn magister trying to destroy the world.
On the trip back, he'd noticed more than a few soldiers and scouts seemed interested in his interactions with their inquisitor as well, and it had seemed like it was a bit worse than before. Their attention had made him acutely aware of more than a few things he would have liked to push from his mind, like how close she was to him when she checked him for illness every time they camped for the night or how their bodies were flush when they rode together, how he could feel her against him, how easy it would be to reach out to her and pull her to him and…
That was another reason he'd left early. His dreams were wandering toward her in ways they hadn't, even before the fight with Cole. He'd woken up from one, heartbroken that it wasn't real, that he was lying by himself, with Warden Blackwall snoring a few feet away.
His mind had whispered of how easy it would be to slip into her tent, to curl up next to her...or to lead her out into the woods. He'd remembered the time on the way to Denerim, when they'd been by the stream.
He didn't care where they were, so long as she was with him.
Just a few quick steps, and he could reach her and—
And he didn't know where they stood. Even when they'd been together, he'd wondered about her motivations, about whether she was just lonely or trying to find a way to distract herself.
Part of him pleaded that he would be fine being a distraction, so long as it meant he could be near her, but he knew that was a lie. He wanted to be more than that, to be her comfort, her haven, her everything. And he wanted her to be that for him, even if he didn't deserve that.
He'd had his meaningless one night stands in Kirkwall, but he'd never felt anything for the women he'd been with, aside from lust.
With Finley, he cared too deeply for something so casual.
And then things were barely back to them being able to talk to each other. How could he expect things to go further so soon?
The longer he was near her like that, the more he had to catch himself from doing or saying something foolish. He'd nearly run his fingers through her hair the night before, like he had any right to touch her that way.
She'd been receptive when he'd kissed her hand, though.
Hadn't she?
But then it had never come up again, and while she had taken his hand a few times, he hadn't known how to bring it up of if he even should.
And handholding was a long way from the activities he was thinking of.
The longer he went, the more sure he was that he would just blurt his feelings out or whisper them in her ear while they rode. How awkward would that be for her? To be stuck on a horse with a man longing—and lusting—after her?
He'd done his best to think of work and the like to keep himself from giving her any...physical hints as to where his mind kept going while they rode together.
But that morning, it had just been too much. They weren't going to have time alone to talk until they got back to Skyhold, and she wasn't about to let their pace increase. He'd tried to reason with her the day before, and she'd shut him down completely, with all three of her companions backing her up and insisting he should listen to their 'lovely' inquisitor.
That had been Dorian's word.
Maker, but she was lovely.
And even when she wasn't riding with him, Cullen's treacherous mind was thinking of her. Her and Dorian. He was embarrassed how jealous he was of Dorian, which was utterly ridiculous. He knew the two were close, that they'd been bonding ever since the Cole incident, and it might have driven him mad, but for the fact that Warden Blackwall had set him straight the first night they'd left.
"They're just friends," the warden had said as they'd gotten ready to go to sleep. He'd eyed Cullen, not bothering to pretend he needed to clarify who he was talking about. "More like siblings, really."
Cullen had given him an awkward nod, and the warden had gone to sleep and never mentioned the subject again.
He'd seen that sibling relationship between them when he'd watched them after that. The way Dorian teased her reminded him somewhat of the way Mia had teased him when he was a boy.
Still, he had been jealous of the easy way they could be in each other's company, the way there was no awkwardness. It was so much easier to talk to her now, but he still didn't know how to talk about any of the things that mattered most. Or if he even had a right to bring such things up.
Maker, but that had been the sole reason he'd left early.
On the ride, he'd convinced himself of a few other reasons, like making sure he hadn't been replaced, and wanting to get his men out looking for red lyrium and red templars.
Surely she couldn't be mad at him if he explained he wanted to help her search get started sooner?
He'd been ready with what to say and how to say it, and then she hadn't come to see him. He'd fallen asleep at his desk waiting for her, and then when he'd gone looking for her, he'd finally found her already engrossed in conversation with Josephine.
So much so that she hadn't even noticed him.
He was certain that had to be the first time that had ever happened. Normally, she made some small movement, a glance, a half turn of a head, standing a bit taller. This time though, it was like she didn't even know he was there.
To be able to see her without her guard going up immediately...he'd wanted to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her, but had thought better of it. She was working, and he hadn't wanted to get in the way of it.
Still, all day, as he'd caught up with his own work—an uphill battle it felt like—he'd pause to think of her, the way she'd pointed at the map and tapped the paper she had next to her as she talked to Josephine.
Or the way she'd looked shyly up at him when he'd kissed her hand. Or the dozens of other times they'd been together where she had seemed happy to see him, happy to talk to him.
He'd thought of their time together, his hands slipping over soft skin, fingers tangling in hair, lips pressing hot trails of kisses against his throat.
Maker, but that had nearly undone him.
Finally, he'd been able to stand it not longer, so he'd gone to her in the evening, hoping that she would have some time to spare to...talk.
Truly.
He'd wanted to explain why he'd left without her and to clear the air, to pave the way back to where they'd been, if it could be done.
He'd steeled himself that even if they could get back there, it certainly wouldn't be tonight, not with how angry she supposedly was—he'd gotten a look at the note sent and had to say it did seem more than a little over the top, like school children had written it instead of trained scouts.
However, Ser Yorric's cheer had been contagious, and he'd finished ascending the stairs to Finley's chambers with hope. He would explain himself and this would all blow over...
That thought died as soon as he saw her standing there, waiting for him.
"Do you have a moment to spare?"
Her already narrowed eyes narrowed further, lips dipping into a pointed frown. Then, abruptly, she turned away and walked into her chambers. He'd considered himself dismissed until he realized that she'd left the door open behind her.
Daring to let that little hope bubble back up, he followed her, closing the door quietly behind him.
She was already settling back into her desk, gaze on the papers before her rather than him.
"Whatever it is, be quick. I've work to do." Her tone was clipped, shoulders tense, gaze pointedly not on him.
Perhaps the note had needed those underlined words.
All of his practiced reasons—excuses fled his mind in an instant.
"If you've nothing to say, you're dismissed, Commander Rutherford."
It had definitely needed those underlined words.
He struggled for something clear and concise he could say that would make this better. Something, anything… "I didn't think you'd be upset."
Not that.
"You…" For the first time since the stairs, he had Finley's undivided attention, and he found himself scrambling for something to say or do to assuage some of the anger contorting her face. "I'll agree that you didn't think, commander."
Cullen coughed to clear his throat, standing a bit straighter. "I wanted to get back to work—"
"You broke our agreement!" Finley hissed. She was out of her seat in an instant, stalking around her desk toward him. She stopped in front of him, that brilliant fire in her eyes looking most righteous. "I could have been here days ago, but I stayed at your side. I held true to our agreement."
Cullen frowned. "I didn't break my word to you. One day's ride isn't going to kill—"
"Getting tired isn't the only thing that could have happened, you know," Finley snapped. She started pacing, pausing every few seconds to glare at him. "You said it yourself! Corypheus' people are out there! They could have caught you! By yourself! Without so much as a healer!"
"I was with Bull—"
"The man is missing fingers and an eye, commander. He's not the cautious type."
He couldn't argue with that.
"I spent the whole ride wondering if we were going to find your corpses around the next corner, if we'd even find what was left of you! I wouldn't have worried about that, but you were the one to bring it up, to stress we needed to stay together!"
"You're more important—"
She stopped him with a look. "Don't you dare make this about that stupid fucking mark." She curled her hand into a fist, as though she could make it disappear. "This is about you going back on your word!"
"I said I wouldn't push myself to the point of exhaustion, and I didn't," Cullen replied, trying to keep his voice even. He'd hurt her. That much was abundantly clear.
But he hadn't broken his word.
"Why couldn't you have talked to me?" Finley asked. As he tried to answer, she spoke over him. "Instead of sneaking away in the dead of night like you were trying to escape." She shook her head, glaring up at him. "Is my company really so unpleasant? Is it because I wanted to keep you safe? If I bothered you so much you should have said—"
"I left because—" Cullen caught himself in the middle of his declaration, feeling all the more like a fool. He didn't need to use how he felt as an excuse. Not when she was this upset.
"That's exactly it, though!" Finley cried out, lifting her hands like she might shove him. Instead, she let them fall back to her side. "You left me!"
Her voice cracked on the word as she emphasized it, and the indignance rising in him vanished in a breath.
He'd hurt her, whether he meant it or not. And that meant that he had broken a promise, a promise to never hurt her. What she'd said just before sunk in as he tried to think of what to say, and he felt the blood draining from his face.
He'd just learned about what the people who had cared for her had done to her, how they'd turned on her, hurt her, and now he was…
"I wasn't running from you." The words were a whisper. Before he could stop himself, he added, "I never would. I prefer your company to anyone."
Finley stood there, looking at him, trying to read him for any signs that he was lying. What could he say? That he adored her? That she filled his thoughts and made him want to be the man she thought he was?
That he loved her?
No.
He wouldn't use his feelings as a way to stem her anger. Even if it was true, it would be cruel, to both of them.
But then what could he say?
"I didn't mean to…" He reached toward her as he spoke, but the words felt so empty. His fingertips barely ghosted against her skin before he pulled his hand away, thinking better of it. There had to be a better way to apologize than to indulge himself like this. If only he could think—
Even as he struggled to think of something, anything, fingers gripped the collar of his cuirass and jerked him down in one swift motion. Before he could realize what was happening, Finley's lips pressed against his, her free hand gripping his hair and holding him to her.
In a breath, his fingers were tangled in her hair as he pulled her closer, meeting the hunger of her lips with his own. Feelings of familiarity mixed with new as he tasted her lips. He'd always been so gentle with her, but now...there was a ferocity in her touch, and he couldn't help but match it.
As they broke for breath, she scowled up at him. "I haven't forgiven you!"
Before he could answer, she kissed him again. This time, her lips pressed scalding kisses along his jaw and down his throat, and he couldn't help the growl that escaped him as he turned his head to kiss her wherever he could reach. Her temple, the tip of her ear. He bent down, kissing her neck and pulling her shirt to the side so that he could reach more of her.
The sound of one of his vambraces hitting the floor startled him, though he couldn't help a breathy laugh as he paused to undo his other one.
His cuirass was on the ground before he got ahold of her again, pulling her flush to him. She nipped his neck. "You're an ass."
He hummed an affirmative as he nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent as he'd wanted to do for…
Maker, it had been months, hadn't it?
Months and months of his own doing.
"I'll work on that," he murmured into her hair before she tilted her head up and caught his lips again.
He didn't realize he'd been moving backwards until his calves hit the edge of her bed. He broke away from her long enough to glance back, only to feel her hands flat against his chest, pushing him back.
He fell into a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling her into his lap. She straddled him, running her fingers through his hair. "You'd better."
He nodded before he kissed her again, sucking in a breath when she rocked her hips against him.
His hands roved over her body, gripping her ass and pulling her closer still. She whispered another admonishment and nipped his ear. His hands roved up, under her shirt, fire flooding through him as he felt her. It was just barely familiar, and somehow a hundred times better than he remembered.
She let him go long enough to lift her arms up so that he could tug her shirt off. His followed as she told him how foolish he'd been. He agreed, sucking in a breath and tilting his head back as she kissed down his throat again. One of her hands pressed flat against his chest, against an old scar from magefire.
He reached up and gripped her hand, giving in to how surreal this was and trying desperately not to over think what was happening. That, at least, was fairly easy. Every nip, kiss, and rock of her hips blanked his mind of anything other than the present.
Thoughts of Cole, of inquisitive looks, of wondering just where they stood, all of it scattered. Their attempts to retake his mind vanished completely when he felt Finley's fingers brush against his length through his pants.
He smiled against her lips,against the frantic, desperate way that she touched him, like she'd been longing for this as long as he had.
His let his hands slide down her sides until he reached her breeches. He made quick work of the knot there and tugged her pants down. He growled when she moved away from him, letting out a huff as he looked up at her, mind focused solely on the emptiness between them.
She leaned forward, kissing him again as she shoved her trousers down and kicked out of them. So soon as she was free of them, he tugged her back into his lap, relishing the way her lips turned up against his.
To the void with finding the words to make things right. He would show her what she meant to him.
His fingers curled in her hair as he tilted her head back so that he could return her attentions tenfold. She whimpered as he pressed open mouthed kisses to her throat and down. He nipped the sensitive skin there, relishing the way she held him, one hand in his hair, the other gripping his shoulder.
She let him go as he reached her collarbone and again he couldn't help the growl that escaped him. He didn't want her to let him go, he didn't want to be apart from her, not now not ever.
The curses already filling his hazy mind turned to thanks as he breaststrap fell away. He reached for her with his free hand, cupping one of her breasts and relishing the soft cry that came from Finley in response.
He stroked his thumb over her nipple, smiling against her skin when her hand reached up to hold his. She rocked her body against him, pressing herself into his touch and her hips against him in a way that elicited a low moan.
He could vaguely remember having dreams about this sort of thing, though he couldn't focus enough to remember the specifics from any of them. The present was too...amazing for retrospection.
Her hand left his to turn his chin up. Like the first time that night, there was a desperation, a need in her kisses, and he returned it, tasting her kiss-bruised lips. This time, when she rocked herself against him, he moved with her.
As she moved against him, she dipped her head to kiss down his jaw and throat, down as far as she could reach on his chest. The fire that each kiss sent racing through him wasn't enough. He held her flush to him, rocking in time with her, torn between savoring her touch and the growing frustration that what he wanted most was just barely beyond his grasp.
He wanted to be inside her, to feel her tighten around him, to feel her body shudder and move as he made her his in the most carnal way he could.
It was as though she could read his damned mind, for her fingers brushed against his length again. It felt like torture as he hands moved to the laces of his breeches, and his hands followed hers, trying desperately to undo the ties, to free himself from the last thing standing between them.
When the tie was undone, he let out a soft cry as her fingers brushed along him, making his cock twitch.
Abruptly, she was out of his lap again. He reached toward her as his gaze snapped up toward her, confusion filling his mind. She met his gaze with mischievous smirk. She ran her hands slowly down her body, pausing when her fingers hooked on her smalls. She'd barely moved them an inch down when she stopped.
Cullen had been following her every movement, gaze raking down her body as she led his attention down. His gaze lingered on the skin just above her smalls, on the way her fingers rested against her skin, already glimmering with sweat.
Abruptly, his gaze snapped back up to hers. She watched him a moment, enjoying his attention before slowly moving again to take off her smalls.
He barely kept his hands to himself until she'd reached her knees. Then he caught one of her hands and tugged her back into his lap, leaving the last of her clothes crumpled on the ground. She let out a laugh as he tugged her to him.
This time, when she rocked against him, he nearly lost his damned mind. Her skin against his, being so close to what he wanted…
He pulled away from her, enough to make her pause in her latest ministrations. Searching her eyes, he tried to find the words to ask her to breach that last miniscule space between them.
She kissed him again, this time gentler. Rising up, she reached down to stroke him, and he helped her angle himself so that the tip of his cock pressed against her folds.
Maker, but she was already wet for him.
Her lips trailed down his throat again, and he sucked in a sharp breath as she moved her hips ever so slightly. His hands settled on her hips, and he fought the urge to pull her down onto him.
Finley moved to kiss his lips again, a slower, deeper kiss that left him breathless. When they broke for breath, she brushed her nose against his. "Do you want me?"
"Yes." He barely managed the word, his voice a husky rasp.
With a swift movement, she sunk down onto him, sheathing him inside of her. He let out a strangled cry, fingers digging into the soft skin on her hips.
It only took a moment for them to find their rhythm. He relished each rock of her hips, each moan he drew from her as he moved with her.
She started out slowly, though as they went, she moved faster, riding him hard.
When she came undone, she let out a cry, fingers digging into his shoulders. One of his hands slipped around her and he turned them over, laying her on the bed so that he could control his thrusts better.
The world disappeared into a burst of white light as pleasure swept through him with his release.
When he came back down, he was laying on top of her, chest heaving in time with hers. She pressed a kiss to his temple, one hand playing in his hair.
Trying to catch his breath, he pulled out of her and flopped down on the bed beside her. She moved after him, straddling him again, though this time she simply reached up to cup his face, leaning down and resting her forehead against his.
He tilted his head up to catch her lips briefly, before she pulled back a little, looking down at him with an expression that was hard to read.
"I'm still mad at you."
Cullen managed a nod, one of his hands slowly moving up her thigh. The urgency from earlier had left him, and his mind slowly settled back into place.
Maker, but she was beautiful, hair a wild mess, skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat, body naked and in his reach...
"I didn't mean to hurt you."
She searched his eyes, a thumb stroking his cheek. "Don't..." She trailed off, struggling to find the words for what she wanted to say. It was oddly comforting to know that he wasn't the only one who struggled with such things.
"I won't leave you like that again," he murmured, reaching up to clasp her hands in his own. He turned his head to press a kiss against her palm, never breaking eye contact.
"If I'm driving you mad, then say something." Finley leaned forward so that her forehead rested against his again. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. "Don't just...run from me."
"That wasn't it." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. He squeezed her gently. "I wanted...this. You. And I didn't know how to ask."
Finley let out a disbelieving laugh. "You could have tired, 'Want to have sex?'"
Cullen nearly choked at her words, coughing a moment before he was able to regain control of himself. "That is, uh, rather direct, isn't it?" He could feel the flush flooding up his neck into his cheeks. "And not quite what I meant."
Finley sat up a little, peering down at him, bewildered. "You...don't want to...?"
Even as she mumbled something about really being terrible at reading situations, Cullen tugged her closer. "Again, not what I meant."
Finley sat up, appraising him with clear confusion. "What did you mean?"
I love you.
The words stuck in his throat, and he finally let out an awkward laugh, reaching up and rubbing his face with his hands. "I...don't know what I meant."
"But you...did you want—"
"Yes," Cullen sat up. This time, he cupped her face in his hands as she sat in his lap. "Very much so."
"You're confusing me."
Cullen leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Sorry."
She returned the kiss, though she pulled away too quickly. He tried to chase her, but paused when he realized she was watching him, concerned. "You'd say something, wouldn't you? If I did something you didn't want me to?"
"There is next to nothing you could do to me that I wouldn't enjoy," Cullen murmured, unthinking.
She arched her brow at that. "I don't imagine you'd like being a toad."
Cullen couldn't help but laugh at that, hugging her to him again when she nuzzled against him. "I don't imagine I would. Like I said, next to nothing."
She rested her head against his shoulder for a few moments, before finally whispering. "You know, I told you things I never told anyone else. Anyone. And you just…"
Her voice broke, and Cullen felt like there was a knife in his heart. He squeezed her again. "I was an idiot."
She shifted a little at this, her fingers curling against his chest. "Don't try to charm your way out of this."
Moments like these, he had to wonder who exactly Finley thought she was talking to. Too kind, charming?
"I'm trying to apologize."
She let out a soft huff.
It was as much of an invitation as he was going to get and so he sighed, stroking his thumb against the smooth skin on her shoulder. "I knew I wouldn't push myself too hard with one day of riding—"
"And you couldn't talk to me about that?"
"Would you have listened?" Cullen asked, loosening his grip just enough that he could look down at her. "I lo—" He cut himself off. He didn't want to tell her. Not like this. And 'I love you, but—'? What kind of way was that to announce...
And anyway, if she thought calling himself an idiot was an attempt at charm, he doubted declarations of feelings would be received much better.
He didn't want those words to be mistaken as an attempt to get out of trouble.
"I felt helpless, like I was dragging my feet. I needed to move, to do something."
"The only time you're helpless, commander, is when you push yourself like that!" She snapped, some of her earlier anger sparking back to life.
"And when you're involved," he whispered before he could stop himself. Her brow scrunched together in confusion, and he could see her mind working, no doubt drawing the wrong conclusions in her anger. Gingerly, he reached out and cupped her face again. "I...if it's any consolation, you're the only person who could get me to rest as long as I did."
"Flirt," she accused, turning her attention away from him. Some of that anger seemed to have dissipated, though.
He took it as an encouraging sign. "You have every right to be angry with me. I didn't think when I left, didn't consider how much it would hurt you."
"You should have."
"I should have," he agreed. He brushed some of her hair back from her face. "I thought...at the time, it made so much sense, but...I thought I would come back to Skyhold. To make sure that Cassandra wasn't settling in my replacement. I thought...considering how upset you were when you told me that you didn't want me to go… Well, I thought if she was replacing me, perhaps I could get matters settled before you got back." He leaned forward to peer at her face, and noted the way she had to fake a scowl when she saw him. "After all, you did promise to be terrible to anyone replacing me."
She sat a little straighter, making a point to look away from him again, though her attention drew itself his way rather quickly. To her credit, she tried not to look directly at him. "I'm still very angry with you."
There was a hint of softness in her voice.
He caught and held her gaze. "I am sorry."
She was at a loss for a moment, staring up at him, before abruptly rolling her eyes, and donning a dismissive look. "You're just afraid that I will turn you into a toad."
He couldn't help but laugh at that. He pulled her to him, resting his chin on the top of her head as his arms circled her. She leaned against him, one hand resting against his chest, over his heart. He could have held her like that for an eternity, feeling her breath against his neck, her body against his.
Her lips brushed against his neck, and he took in a slow, unsteady breath.
"I feel like I should tell you, you're sending mixed signals."
With a scoff, Finley pushed away from him, lightly hitting her hand against his chest. "You can have sex with someone when you're angry."
"You've certainly proved that," Cullen agreed, glancing to the end of the bed where his shirt hung half over the edge. Finley's shirt had been tossed nearer to the fireplace.
Maker, it was practically in the damned thing. It was a wonder the whole room hadn't gone up in flames yet.
Even as he considered getting up to move it, he felt the bed shift and turned to see that Finley had laid back down on her side, watching him with an expression that was hard to read.
Forgetting whatever it was that he'd been concerned with before, he flopped back down on the bed as well, turning to his side and propping his head up with a fist as he faced her. "I was just trying to say that perhaps you should finish yelling at someone before you take them into your room and undress them."
"You didn't have a problem with it when it was happening," Finley muttered, though she paused to peek up at him as though she thought he might argue.
"No," Cullen reached out and cupped her cheek with his free hand, stroking her skin with his thumb. "No, I can't say I'll ever mind that." He tilted his head a bit. "Bit surprised, but I didn't mind at all."
"I missed you," Finley murmured, turning her head to press a kiss into his palm.
Once again, the whole thing was...surreal. "I missed you, too."
As he moved away, she stretched up to catch his lips. The kiss was much gentler than she had been earlier. He couldn't help but smile as he returned it, deepening it as he moved his hand to cradle the nape of her neck.
When they broke for breath, Finley nipped his lower lip. "I'm still mad at you." She leaned forward, pressing kisses down his throat. "Very angry."
"So you've said," he murmured, tilting his head back and giving her easier access.
"So I mean," she said, pulling away from him to give him an irritated look. "You left me."
"I tried to pave the way for you," Cullen corrected, grinning when she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll remember not to in the future."
"Good."
With a laugh, he let himself fall forward so that he was on top of her. As she tried to stifle a pleased gasp, he propped himself up with his arms. "So what do I need to do to make things right between us?"