A/N: Breogan on deviantArt has painted a deliciously beautiful scene featuring Finola and Bran that brings these characters to life. My love for this painting knows no bounds, and I couldn't be more pleased with the result. Breogan also has other marvelous Dragon Age art, as well as Harry Potter, Tolkien, Star Wars, and other galleries. Her art is just beautiful and you should check it out.

Breogan . deviantart . com / gallery / # / d4dbqy2 Or go to my profile for the links.

Not only is Breogan a fantastic artist, but she also has a talent for writing. She helped to make this one-shot a more steamy and sensuous read, co-writing portions of it. Her encouragement served to kick my writer's block in the pants, too. Thank you, Smilla. *hugs*

Kisses to my most excellent friend and beta, Biff McLaughlin for her terrific skills and solid advice. Who loves ya baby? A heap of thanks to Zute for her humor and encouragement as well.

This installment is very much NSFW.

Under My Skin

The door flew open, a loud thud echoing through Bran's bedchamber as it hit the wall. In a tangle of groping hands and shuffling feet, he pushed Finola against the door, kissing her fiercely.

"If you want," he whispered, his lips close to hers, "you can have this every minute of every day."

"We would go broke pretty fast under those conditions."

We…. "I think it would be well worth it."

She nibbled and sucked on his bottom lip as she undid the buttons of his shirt. Pulling it off eagerly, she never lost the lock on his lips as she threw the clothes to the floor. His hands gripped her waist, then sneaked their way down past the waistband of her pants, his fingertips resting on the edge of her smalls. With sudden force, he plunged one hand down and put a finger into her.

"Bran," she said breathlessly, her hand caressing his chest as his finger twisted.

Too soon, he pulled his hand out and she grimaced. But her frown disappeared fast as he brought his fingers to his lips and tasted her. A shy smile crept to her lips, her face flushing with burning heat. There was fire lighting in her eyes, but then he saw apprehension as her brows furrowed and she looked away.

"If you're not comfortable," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, "we can wait."

"I am comfortable with you," she whispered back. She felt his breath on her, heard his labored breathing. With him, she was alive and longing for everything he could give, even if it was more than she could handle.

"I want you, Finola, more than I've wanted any woman, but I will respect your every wish, every command."

Finola felt her heart seize, and then melt. Placing her hand on his bare chest, she sighed, looking away. She had fantasized about being with him numerous times, and the moment was now hers for the taking. Would he comfort her if he knew she were frightened? He always had before. As their foreheads rested together, she looked into his eyes. "So you'll stop if I ask you to?" she asked in a barely audible whisper.

Her question gave him pause. Bran's teeth clenched and he fought to hide the fear and disappointment that coursed through him at hearing her words. A smile broke the momentary tension as Bran let his fingers caress her soft cheek. "Of course I will."

Finola let out a sigh of relief before Bran fell silent again. His eyes studied her as he spoke.

"I'm thinking… I have an idea, Fin." Bran's voice was quiet and steady, his warm lips close to her ear, his words a pleasing combination of tender and confident. "Come with me, to the couch by the hearth." He reached out and knotted his fingers with hers, clasping tightly as his thumb soothingly stroked her skin. A small smile turned up Finola's lips as she nodded and squeezed his hand.

Once seated, she leaned back and rested against him, feeling the hardness of his chest on her back, her head settling on his shoulder. The fragrant scent of roses permeated his thoughts as strands of her hair caught in the stubble on his chin, tickling him, reminding him of what this night could bring. Both of them had shifted for comfort before he draped his arm over her, his fingertips stroking feather light caresses up and down her arm. In silence, in the dim shadows of the dying firelight, he heard her breathing slightly quicken.

The night before, he had reveled in the satisfied smile on her face after he made her come, and it was so enchanting, he almost laughed at the thought. He wanted to see that expression again, wanted to see her nose crinkle and her eyes flutter when she tumbled over the edge. But would he?

Cradled in his arms now, he pressed kisses against her temple as he stroked her hair. "I'm sorry," he started, "I shouldn't have rushed." Finola's hand squeezed his arm, silently waving his apology off while her breathing began to even out. Despite telling her everything would be fine, Bran could still feel the tension in her body, see the frustration in her eyes. He held her closer, hugging her body against his while he reflected on her reaction. Fear of the pain was something he could understand, but there was more to her reluctance than a single fear.

The hand on her cheek was soft and reassuring, and she turned to face him. A torn fingernail on her pinky found its way to her mouth, and she chewed on it while thinking. Well… he is the expert. So why am I uptight? She had trusted him over the years, trusted in his ability to get her through some of the roughest times she'd ever known. She trusted him with her life, with everything. Moreover, she would be lying if she said he hadn't appeared in her thoughts, her daydreams as well as her nightly fantasies.

"You are an exquisite woman, Finola. Never doubt it. And your innocence is nothing to feel awkward about, not with me." Bran kissed her with a passion void of all pretense. "I want to help you, make you see that… you are an exciting and arousing woman, and your body will respond exactly as it should." Certainly, she had knowledge of sex and its related activities, but Bran wondered if she was rather naive when it came to her own body. He assumed she had touched herself intimately, that she'd had orgasms in the privacy of her own chambers, and maybe he even figured into her fantasies at times. He gently settled her back against his chest, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke. "Close your eyes."

"Bran, I… I don't know... how to…." The desperate, fretful tone in her voice made him tense for a moment, but he ignored his own anxiety, determined to release her from her frustrations. She tried to sit up, but his arms kept her against his body with only a little pressure.

"Will you let me help you then, to guide you toward pleasure?" Finola's hesitation drew out a new reassurance from him. "I will not touch you," he murmured as he placed a sweet kiss on her temple. "I will only whisper in your ear."

"And what are you going to say? Do you mean to… talk dirty to me?"

Ah, she knew him well. He grinned. "Not exactly, no. You do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then do as I say. Close your eyes." Finola obeyed without a word, and Bran felt her body relaxing once again in his arms. "Clear your thoughts. Listen only to my voice." Bran inched his head forward until his lips were almost touching her ear. Tenderly, he picked up her hand, sliding his fingers along hers until he held her index finger. He pressed it to her forehead.

"When I take my hand away, I want you to leave your finger there, between your brows." The sudden loss of his warmth startled her, and she turned to meet his gaze. "Shh, close those lovely blue eyes. I'm right here and there is nothing to fear from me," he assured. She gave him a slight nod and smiled, closing her eyes again and taking a deep breath. He spoke low, his voice calm and sultry. "Now, slowly trace from there, down over your nose, to your lips, so supple and full."

Soft fingertips stroked the skin on her arm, slow and relaxing, soothing. What will it feel like, she wondered, to have him inside her? Would he be gentle as he was now, caressing her to new heights of pleasure? Or would he be aggressive and dangerous, thrusting hard and deep? She wanted to be touching him, and wanted him touching her as well. What was this exercise all about anyway?

His soft, sensual voice broke through her musings. "Trace those beautiful lips with your finger… slowly." She did so, letting her nail scratch her bottom lip softly. "Make them wet…" The tip of her tongue peeked shyly through her lips before she stopped for a brief moment. A soft sigh escaped her mouth as she timidly licked the pad of her finger and began to trace her lips again, even more slowly. Bran's mouth went back to her ear. "Yes… like that… slowly…" Finola's body seemed to relax a little more as he continued to talk. "Now imagine my lips close to yours… my breath upon them…." A low sigh sounded as the tip of her finger slid into her mouth and she unconsciously sucked on its pad.

Bran's breath caressed her ear as his words broke the silence. "My lips are now closer… they are meeting yours, tasting you for the very first time." A shy smile lit up her face as she kept her eyes closed. "They are nibbling, licking… claiming your mouth…" His right hand continued to caress her arm languidly, feeling the frustration leaving her body as pleasure began to unfold inside her. Finola's lips glistened in the reddish glow of the firelight, a temptation Bran had to ignore. "Feel the tip of my tongue tracing your lips… before it slides into your mouth to meet yours…" She couldn't fight back another sigh as she pictured the scene in her mind, the end of her tongue visible between her full lips, as if waiting for his. Unaware, Bran licked his lips, his eyes fixed on hers, on the way her white teeth were nibbling the pad of her finger, worrying her bottom lip. "My hands take the place of yours, smoothing over your skin… caressing your neck." Shyly, her hand touched her neck, sliding back and forth easily, the other one still playing with her mouth.

He whispered again. "Slowly, my lips trail down your neck… kissing, sucking, lightly nipping before going back to steal your breath with another kiss." Absently, she nodded, wishing his words would become actions while she rocked her hips slightly. "My fingers move to open the first button of your blouse and kiss your skin." She murmured a "yes" as he let his bottom lip caress the tip of her ear. "I'm kissing you… my tongue massaging yours… while I undo your buttons… my hands running up and down your sides and back."

She squeezed her legs tightly, feeling an answering throb in her core. Chest rising and falling in time with his, she discovered her own hand drifting to slip beneath her shirt. She wanted to touch herself, and nothing was stopping her. Nothing except fear of being exposed, fear of… of what? Wrapped up in his arms, and her own wanton thoughts, Finola thought she might be safe tonight.

Bran fell silent as he watched Finola's hand slip under her shirt, moving up slowly, as if she were enjoying the feeling of her own skin. "Keep going, Bran… please." Pressing her hand down, she curved it around her breast, letting out a moan as she shimmied slightly.

Bran fought to control his breathing, desire shooting straight into his trousers as he struggled to snap back to the moment. His lips were dry again, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. "You're so beautiful, Fin… so … incredibly erotic." Her lips were sucking the tip of her finger as her left hand moved slowly over one breast before it changed to the other. He smiled at her bold move, and let his free hand delicately untie the laces of her pants, careful not to break the spell she'd fallen under. "I pull you into a deep kiss, and lay you on the bed…." Again, she nodded with a smile. He absently held her tighter in his arms, deeply inhaling her perfume. "You're lying on my bed… half naked… your breasts exposed, inviting…." She arched her back slightly, thrusting her breasts up, tempting him similarly to the scene he was whispering into her ear. "I admire your supple breasts... so perfect… begging to be touched…" Her hand moved faster under her shirt. "I'm caressing them, teasing them as you moan… your hands in my hair…"

Bran stopped for a moment, caught in the beauty of what was happening before his eyes. Finola was now lost in a world of her own and pleasure was her only guide. Bran took a deep breath before he continued. "You whimper as I pinch your nipples, twisting just a little, a sweet ache filling you." On cue, her long fingers pinched her nipple while she imagined it was Bran teasing her body so pleasurably. "Yes… you like that sweet pain… my fingers pinching … my mouth nibbling… my tongue swirling around your breasts before dipping lower, tracing over your stomach and past your hips." He laid his hand on hers gingerly, moving it toward her waist, and he slipped their hands beneath the waistband of her breeches. Her eyes flew to his, but his smoldering and reassuring smile eased her bashfulness, charming her. She wasn't sure why he was nonplussed by all this, but it felt natural, sitting with him, his hand on top of hers.

She closed her eyes again. With little guidance from Bran, she guided their hands downward, his moving away, back to caressing her arm. Under her smalls, past the soft curls, she went straight to her heat, wet and yielding beneath fingers that had walked the path before. A long moan escaped her lips as pleasure spiked inside her.

"You're writhing now as I drop kisses along your body… licking and teasing with my tongue, until I reach the soft thatch of hair hiding the silken folds that cover your swollen clit…" Finola's body tensed as her fingers obediently found her clit and teased it briefly. "I lightly brush my tongue over your wetness and you arch into my touch, moaning as I open you and slip my tongue into your core. I taste you then, inhaling your sweet scent, and I want to breathe you in… to taste you all night long." He heard a rumbling hum in her throat as her hand moved in circles, his words flowing through her, caressing her from the inside. A fierce wave of desire overcame him. "Wish I could taste you," he murmured in her ear before he could stop himself. Her hand stopped moving under her breeches and slowly came up to her lips. The tip of her tongue delicately licked the pad of her finger as she let out a moan that caused him to bite back a roar. When her fingers moved towards him, he rushed to suck them. Closing his eyes, he devoured her juices like a starved beast, the taste maddening, driving him wild.

Watching Finola touch herself, taste herself, had made his body throb in response and threatened to snap his self-control. He was torn between continuing to watch her and taking her then and there. This was a challenge unlike any other. The steady tightening of his trousers confined his nearly painful erection like a vice grip. He immediately thought of awful things, people he loathed, the man he wanted to make disappear forever. Sebastian Vael. It only helped a little.

As he battled his own desire, she moaned, squirming atop him as the heat radiated down between her legs, throbbing. She had let out all the responses he'd wanted to provoke: breathy sighs and muffled gasps, moans as her hips rocked upward to meet her hand. With his arm securely wrapped around the small of her back and his bare chest pressed against hers, she would have done anything Bran asked of her at that moment, and he knew it.

Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to carry on, his voice hoarse with lust. "Slowly, I glide one hand down over your stomach… toward the wetness dripping between your thighs, begging to be touched. I push in a finger… then another… curling inside you as my thumb circles your clit, pressing and rubbing around your slick heat." The hand at her breast curved slightly as Finola raked her nails over them, her other hand teasing her core. It jerked with each small shake of her body, her legs moving restlessly. Soon her head lolled back, and she mumbled something he didn't notice was his name at first. The rhythm of her hand was almost frantic, but the increase in speed surprised him and he felt the pressure building inside him as well. Trying to stave off the losing battle throbbing in his trousers, he watched her race to finish.

She guided one hand along her stomach and sides, her fingertips leaving goose bumps behind them. She could feel the beat of Bran's heart against her back, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, its warmth against her skin. "My tongue laps at your hot flesh and you gasp, pinching your aching nipples as I push my fingers in and out… feeling how wet you are… how ready you are to come at my command."

She whimpered, her body now moving of its own volition, continuing to deliriously tease itself. "Oh, Maker." She squirmed against him evocatively, hoping to feel the cock against her backside twitch, wanting to hear him moan.

"Let go, Finola. Listen to your body… to your needs…" His voice, like liquid heat, warmed her skin. "Come for me, now," he crooned, his voice filled with passion.

She found her clit and pressed her fingertip against it, rotating her fingers. The pleasure built, coiling tighter, intense and penetrating, and Finola whimpered, then moaned. She was panting now, jerking her hips against her fingers as they circled and pressed, sending shockwaves through her whole body. Bran's fingers dug into the couch, holding onto it white-knuckled as he felt his control snapping. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to find his voice as his body struggled for release to the sound of Finola's moans. His voice was now a lustful growl "That's it, sweetheart… let go… come for me."

"Oh…Maker…oh…Bran…."

The sound of her whimpers and moans made him dizzy, his name repeating on her lips, shameless and confident. Despite having his eyes closed, he could see her… in his arms, wantonly touching herself only for him… Just hold on a little longer…. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"Mmm… Bran… ungh." Her head tilted back, thudding against his shoulder, and her back arched as she came with a squeal, her whole body shuddering and shaking.

Watching her shatter, seeing her muscles tremble as she climaxed by her own hand, was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He held her as she shook, her orgasm washing over her, surging and swelling, tingling and warm, different from orgasms in the past. So remarkably different from the little shivers she had given herself on occasion. She sighed as she slid her hand out of her pants, to rest on top of her belly.

Still spread out before him, trying to slow her breathing, Finola stirred when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Languid and boneless, she entwined their fingers, squeezing once, her toes tingling and her fingertips buzzing. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, taking a moment to recall how to focus. Her lips twitched at the complacent look on his face. "That was…." She sighed at her loss for words, but her smile grew wider.

"I knew you would be a quick study."

She flipped around and straddled him. "Only because I had the finest teacher," she said modestly, then pulled him to her for a deep kiss, frantic and hungry.

"So," he began with a rakish smile on his lips. "Are you ready for something more decadent?"

She burst out laughing and then met his gaze, kissing him once more. "Thank you, Bran."

Were those tears rolling down her cheeks? The corner of his mouth turned up. "I know those are not tears of regret." She shook her head slightly as he wiped the dampness away with his thumb, smiling at her. Before he could think of more clever words to say, her arms found their way around his neck.

"Kiss me, before I go mad." With that, she pulled him into a breathtaking kiss. It was gentle, like caresses from silk, and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. "I think I'm ready for the main course now."

"Oh?" Finola watched as he stood and undid his trousers, dropping them and kicking them out of the way. Her eyes traveled down to see the hardness bulging behind the fabric of his smalls, and he stepped close to her again, grinning.

She looked up at him. "Oh, Bran, how did you not… I mean, weren't you… frustrated?" A curious hand reached out to stroke him as she leaned forward to kiss him again. Bran took her hands before they touched him, raising them up to his lips to place a quick kiss on her knuckles.

"Finola dear, I've never had to work so hard not to come in my life. I was… enthralled by you," he eagerly confessed. He let go of her hands and his fingers flew to her blouse, slowly pushing it back to let the silky fabric caress her skin as it fell to the floor. For a moment, his eyes roamed all over her beautiful body before he pulled her to him. "In the end, it was an unrivaled exercise in self-control," he murmured against her hair.

His hands moved to her waist, and then he brought them lower to grip her hips, pulling her in, and causing his hardness to prod her. The brief, intimate contact made Bran hiss, but before Finola could voice a question, he placed her legs on either side of his hips. Ignoring her look of surprise, he carried her to the bed and then let go, dropping her roughly and smiling at her petulant expression.

Her arms and legs stretched out and bent as she sprawled on his bed. His bed! Bran nearly pinched himself. Countless days and nights were spent dreaming of this moment, and now that it was here, he didn't believe it. His hands were almost shaking with anticipation. He took a steadying breath and crawled onto the bed, hovering on all fours above her.

"I have to kiss you now, Fin. I just need to do it, to confirm you are actually lying here… waiting for me to... to…."

She reached up and caressed his cheek. "You're very sweet, Bran. Maybe no one has ever said that to you, but it's true."

Her hand went to the back of his neck and she pulled him to her. Her kiss was alive with feverish intensity, but just like their first kiss, it didn't take long to fall into a slow, comfortable rhythm; it was exactly what was needed to ease his concern for the activities to come.

"You do realize you'll need to remove your underclothes," he joked when he came out for air.

Despite rolling her eyes dramatically, Finola couldn't prevent the smile that rushed to her lips. "Oh… really?" she joked in turn, but made no move even as Bran grinned at her.

"If you prefer, I can remove them for you," he offered.

"Yes, you do all the work while I relax," she replied with a whisper. "Go on then."

Soft fingertips trailed down her neck, along her sides, slowly creeping toward the loosened laces of her pants. Perched on his knees between her legs, Bran slowly pulled them down as she shimmied to help guide them off.

That was the easy part, for both of them.

He curled a finger around the leg opening of her smalls and gave a slight, inquiring tug. She smiled, wicked and needy. Another finger slid under the fabric and slowly, patiently, he pulled them from her hips, exposing her to him. Eyes on her face, he saw her shiver as he threw the smalls over his shoulder only to have them land directly on the bedpost.

"Nice toss," she giggled. "Lots of practice, I assume." Her tone was lighthearted and playful, but Bran could hear the tension hiding in her voice.

"A lucky throw," he admitted. In truth, she was the first woman he'd taken to his bed in a long time, always opting for the Rose or any other chamber but his own. In his eyes, Finola was the only woman worthy to be here. "Are you all right, Fin? I'm sure you're nervous, but…."

"No, I'm… yes, I am nervous. But it's not you… I just… I just don't like pain," she said, her voice sounding strangled. She had forced herself to finish the sentence, admitting that weakness and undressing her soul, as Bran had undressed her body.

Her divulgence made him grin. "Says the Champion of Kirkwall, who has been at death's door more times than I care to acknowledge. Maybe you should drink some healing tonic then."

"No." She declined vehemently, suddenly fearing her confession would change Bran's mind. "This is a significant rite of passage. And I'm not going to be wimp about it." She gave him a resolute smile. "I promise."

He observed her for a moment before he nodded. "As you wish. I shall not hesitate any longer."

Her long hair fanned out across the pillow, and she let out a stifled moan as he assaulted her neck with ravenous kisses before nipping at her breasts. His hand gripped her backside firmly as she swept his lips into another kiss, one hand grasping at his shoulder, the other threading into his hair. He pulled her closer to him, and frissons of desire shot through her, spreading across her flesh as she felt his erection grind against her thigh.

"You are gorgeous… flawless," he whispered.

"More flattery, hm?" Shaking her head, he saw the faint umbrage in her gaze.

A small, tight knot twisted in Bran's stomach and his breath hitched. "Flattery with no ulterior motive, Fin." The slight annoyance she felt ended when he planted hot kisses down her throat.

He ran his hand across her shoulder, down her arm, moving it to her breast. His thumb flitted across her nipple and it tightened, tingling beneath his touch. She sucked in a sharp breath. Putting his hand behind her neck, he guided her into another kiss while his hands caressed her breasts.

Suddenly, Bran moved down and took a stiff pink nipple into his mouth, nipping at it before swirling his tongue, then moving to do the same for the other. In that moment, she and Bran were all that mattered in the world.

With his hot mouth still locked on her nipple, his hand crept down her body. His nails softly scratched a trail toward the moistened inside of her thighs. The feeling of his long fingers nearing her core caused her eyelashes to flutter, and her breathing grew more ragged. Bran raised his eyes to look at her once more, and his heart gave a start when they met hers. As his fingers touched the wet folds between her legs, he kissed her deeply and realized it had been years since he'd been so close to a woman he actually desired for more than just sex.

Moaning against his ear, Finola's head fell back as two fingers entered her. "More… please…" she begged, rocking her hips toward him and gripping his forearm with brutal strength, nails digging into his flesh. An arousing trail of soft kisses across her chest tingled as she bucked into him. She looked into his eyes and he smirked.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was gentle, but tinged with a demanding tone.

"I do," she croaked out urgently. "I want you." She felt his smile on her cheek, his hardness pressing against her thigh, waiting. Determined to prove her words, her hand slid down his chest and closed shyly around his erection. Bran's body tensed as her fingers began to move over the hot skin. "I want you," she repeated, looking into his eyes. When her thumb slid over the wet slit, he hissed loudly, fighting the now aching need to come. His hand flew to hers, and grabbing it, he moved it away, pinning her to the bed. "Bran?" She looked at him with questioning eyes.

He smiled as he fought to control his body. "It's okay, Fin," he said at last, "but you can't touch me… not right now… I'm too…." His voice trailed off as he battled another pull of desire.

Realization shone in Finola's eyes. "Oh," she uttered, feeling her cheeks burn. "I'm sorry."

Bran silenced her apology with a kiss while he continued to pin her down. "We'll go slowly… for both our sakes."

She gazed at him with a soft expression, took a deep breath, and nodded.

Finola arched her body upward, waiting for him to fill her. A breath he didn't know he'd been holding in fled his lips as he covered her body with his. "It might hurt… you must trust me, Fin," he said, his voice hoarse and bursting with need. "You're older than the average virgin," he began, but was stopped by her glaring eyes.

"Watch what you say about age, old man."

"You know I meant no disrespect," he explained with a smile as he nuzzled her neck. "Besides, you keep an extremely physical and active lifestyle… I wouldn't be surprised if you've already torn some just from your daily activities."

Finola felt a slight relief washing over her. "One can hope…."

He stopped his nuzzling to whisper in her ear. "Do you trust me?"

"Implicitly," she breathed.

"Raise your knees," he commanded, quiet but firm. Powerless to resist his orders, she obeyed. Her new position opened her further, exposed her more, and she took several deep breaths, managing to keep herself calm.

He smiled, and kissed her once more before he released her hands. "Close your eyes."

Bewildered, she looked at him as he bent down and flicked her nipple with his tongue. "Close your eyes," he repeated, watching her until her lids slowly closed. "Trust me," he commanded again, and he didn't move until she nodded.

"You are so beautiful. I wish you could see yourself right now." He placed a kiss on her knee, sliding his hand down her thigh toward her center. She quivered, and he heard her let out a small sigh, her eyes remaining closed. "…So hot… and so wet." He dipped the end of his finger inside her, wetting it, and then rubbed a slow, tormenting circle around her clit. Assessing her readiness, he considered for a brief moment. "Still, I think we should use some oil. It will enhance your pleasure as well."

Eyes still closed, she nodded again. "You know best."

"I have some right here," he said, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand.

The moment his oiled fingers touched her flesh again, and teased her core, she moaned in agreement. "Oh, yes… I.. wow…."

He watched the woman he loved as he closed his hand around his erection. As soon as his fingers touched it, Bran's hips gave an involuntary jerk and his body shook with the need to pump. Taking a deep breath, he overcame his lust and focused on Finola, welcoming and spread before him. Still trembling, he slowly guided himself into her as he suppressed a moan. As soon as his cock crossed the threshold of her core, Finola wrapped her legs tightly around him, pulling him into her, pushing just as eagerly.

With a sudden quick thrust, he was fully inside her, and they both released a long held breath. There was pain, not like that of an arrow to her shoulder, but an internal ache, sharp and straining, that briefly threatened her resolution. But Finola expected it, and she swallowed her cry of pain and gasped as he slipped deeper into her. Unable to restrain the storm of feelings raging within her, she couldn't fight back the tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Ashamed, she tried to voice an apology, but Bran simply smiled at her just before he kissed the traitorous tears away.

Without giving her any respite, he thrust his hips powerfully into her, the bed squeaking beneath them. His hands gripped tightly on her body, pulling her closer, and she desperately clutched his shoulders to push herself as close against him as she could get. He sped up his thrusts, circling his hips with every plunge into her.

Finola ground against him with willful strength, her head falling back every time he reached the sweet spot inside her. Opening her legs wider for him, she needed more, wanting the sensation of him within her to last forever. Scratching down his back roughly, she knew she might draw blood, but it didn't seem to matter. As she marked his back with her nails, he only groaned his approval in her ear and pushed harder and deeper.

Rubbing against her with each thrust, she kissed him deeply, and he let out a moan, her muscles clenching around him. She was so sensitive now, every thrust magnified as his arm came around to brace her lower back, his other hand guiding her hip. She cried out, howling his name, her body shaking and her vision going blurry, the ceiling above them wavy and indistinct.

He could feel her orgasm, an incredible feeling, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The woman beneath him belonged to him, and he was so in love with her, in love with this one moment, ignoring the fear that he might never hold her like this again. Every thrust brought him closer to completion, but he didn't want to feel the overwhelming pleasure of spilling his seed, not yet. For once, he didn't want it to be over, not now, not ever.

He slowed his thrusts and gazed at her, a smile on her lips, and she brought her head up to give him a sweet, soft peck of her lips. She molded her body to his, filling every space with flesh and limb. If she could only get closer… under his skin. "I love this," she whispered. "This closeness. It's breathtaking, but... comforting… it's so right."

He suddenly lost his ability to breathe. She kissed him again, only more urgently this time, and pulled him back into her. His mouth moved to her neck, nipping harder with each thrust, and when he bit her, she moaned, squeezing her fingers into the skin on his shoulders. The thumping of his heart in his ears had him push ever deeper, spilling his seed into her warmth, gasping her name across her lips and shuddering, before collapsing against her.

A smile lit his face as he looked at the mark on her shoulder, still a bit red. She was his tonight, his, and that was all that mattered. He sighed with relief, tracing a finger over her stomach. "Have I ever mentioned how I adore this lovely beauty mark, right here?" he said, kissing the freckle on her flesh. When his eyes found hers, she swallowed hard and looked away. "Are you all right?" he asked with a deliberate smile playing on his lips, acknowledging the strength of her orgasm.

"Never better."

"Never?" he teased. She drew in her breath, a squeak escaping from her. "Are you crying again?" he said quietly, his eyebrows knitting together with concern.

"I'm all right." Her fingertips brushed his cheek, his lips, before settling on his chest. As she laid her palm on him, she felt his heart beating, and his body shivered as she slid her hand across his chest, coming to rest just under him.

Bran's voice was calm, soothing. "Go on, let it out, Fin. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm happy. Really, I am," she countered. "I am!" But what came out next was a sob. "This is all very un-Champion like, isn't it?" she chuckled, wiping her nose in a decidedly unladylike fashion.

Her laughter in between sniffles was oddly endearing, and Bran swept her up in his arms, nuzzling into her neck with tender kisses.

"Forget your many titles. Tonight you are simply Finola Hawke, a wanton, sex crazed, nymphomaniac."

"Ha! Don't you think you might be projecting a little?" she asked with a wink of an eye.

"Maybe so. But it doesn't matter, because…." Soft, warm hands cupped her cheeks, Bran's eyes keen on her face. "I have a beautiful woman near me…." He pushed her backward gently. "…In my bed." Heated lips crushed to hers. "Underneath my body…." His knees pushed her thighs apart roughly. "Waiting for me to fill her once again." He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Yes. Maker, yes!"