A Battle of Blood and Stone (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 4)

“And what I realized,” Finley continued, making Carrick focus on her more clearly. For a moment, anyway, as her fingertips pushed down into the elastic just a few inches, causing his breath to catch. “Is that I didn’t need those memories to strengthen my feelings. They were interesting, I loved seeing our past lives together, and it warmed my heart to see how much you loved me in all those times.”

Carrick’s heart started beating faster, not just because her fingers were inching inside his pants, but because her words were leading to something big.

“What I truly understood as we walked out of the Hall of Histories was that I had already recognized you long before you showed me those memories.”

The words made his chest constrict, then he blew out a long breath as her hand disappeared into his pajama bottoms and took his shaft in hand. It swelled more as she gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I recognized what you were to me long before,” she reiterated, giving his cock a way-too-soft stroke. “In my gut is where I held you. That instinctual place I’ve always trusted.”

Her words were killing him. Her hand was too, and he couldn’t help but thrust against the friction of her palm. When he did, her eyes started burning hotter and she gripped him harder.

“Every time we’re apart,” Finley murmured, giving him what he wanted by stroking his cock. “And every time you walk into a room after being apart, it’s my soul that recognizes you. It’s like ‘Hey you… there you are. I’ve missed you’.”

“Christ,” Carrick muttered, thrusting into her hand again. Her words were speaking directly to his dick as well as his heart. But, then again, sex with Eireann—Finley and all the others—had never been just sex. Not once.

For him, the heart had always been deeply entwined with the feelings of pleasure.

And here she was now, saying her soul was deeply invested.

It was more than Carrick could have wished for.

Finley gave a sly smile before her free hand tugged at the waistband of his pajamas. Carrick had no problem lifting his hips to accommodate. Soon, she had the entire length of him freed.

She only needed to scoot back on his legs to give her the room necessary for her to bend over his body. And when she took him in her mouth, the incredible feel of her tongue against his burning shaft and the pressure of her sucking made him believe in all possibilities.

He let her move on him, watching with eyes lasered on the top of her head as she bobbed, took him deep, and continued to pump him at the base while she sucked on the tip like a lollipop.

Fuck, she was good at that, a truly modern-day woman. Oral sex in days long ago had to be nurtured, experimented with, and taught.

Finley loved it as much as he did, and she never left him wanting.

Except right now, he needed more.

Her words still banging around inside his head—that her soul was committed to him by means of fate and destiny, just from some memories she looked at.

Carrick’s hands shot out, hooked under Finley’s armpits, and dragged her off him. She protested with a low growl in her throat that was cute, but unpersuasive.

Leaving his magic alone, he flipped their bodies with sheer determination and dexterity so she was on her back on the couch and he was over her.

He saw the moment of shock on her face for but a fraction of a second before he caught her mouth in a blistering kiss that was meant to seduce her further but also caused a bolt of lust to sizzle down his spine.

Aching and heavy with need, Carrick merely reached between their bodies, pulled the crotch of her panties hard to the side with some nominal ripping sounds, and drove hard into her. Finley was ready—wet and tight—and her entire being collapsed around him. Her moan went straight into his mouth, mingled with his own.

The connection was deep, not unlike all the other times they’d been together—in this life and the past—but the pleasure he felt at being inside her body after she told him her soul recognized him even without her memories was almost more than he could bear.

He was a demi-god, for fuck’s sake.

He felt like a sixteen-year-old boy at this moment.

Stilling the kiss, Carrick took a moment to rest his forehead against Finley’s. A quiet moment to get his raging lust under control and to ensure he didn’t spill before Finley achieved her pleasure. That was always paramount with him.

“Carrick,” she murmured, slipping her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to go crazy.”

And… that was all it took.

His blood fired hotter than the pits of hell, and his cock seemed to swell even bigger inside of her. She felt it… gasped.