Page 41 of Highlander’s Bride

The woman whose blood might be on his hands if he didn’t help her.

He almost pulled away, but she didn’t let him.

To his surprise, she ran her hand down his chest to the girdle belt at his waist. As she started undoing it, his skin burned, her touch scalding him like she was the sun itself.

His girdle landed on the floor with a soft thud, and she slid a hand under his tunic. When her fingers smoothed up his torso, caressing his old, aching wounds, it felt like he was coming back to life. Like a frozen cave that had finally received the light of spring after centuries of winter.

And he wanted more.

With a groan, he picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist, and carried her to the bed. They both landed there awkwardly, painfully, but he didn’t care. He was hard and aching for her, all soft and sweet, spread under his weight with her legs wrapped around him, right where he wanted her.

He withdrew and looked at her face. She was so incredibly beautiful, her lips full and dark and swollen from his kiss, her eyes luminous, lids half closed, a slight blush on her cheeks.

This was just the beginning. She’d look even prettier with his name on her lips as he drove her higher, showing her all the sweetest pleasures her body could have.

He lowered his head to her neck, inhaling the scent that made his head spin. “I kent ye’d come to me, asking to be in my bed.”

As he planted soft kisses down her throat, moving to her collarbone, she pressed her head back into the mattress, exposing her neck to him. The vein there beat violently against his lips.

With a throaty moan that made him even harder, she dragged her fingernails down his back, grinding the apex of her thighs against his erection.

He let out a groan that sounded pained, agonized, and she continued to tease him.

“I didn’t,” she managed. “I didn’t ask you anything.”

He chuckled as he bent his head to her chest, and found one of her nipples, biting her slightly through the fabric of the dress. To his satisfaction, she gasped and arched her back.

He cupped her breast with one hand and pressed his fingers slightly, making the nipple stand out. “Oh, but ye will, in just a moment, lass. Ye wilna just ask. Ye’ll beg.”

He took half her breast into his mouth, wetting, sucking, massaging her sensitive flesh, enjoying the small pleasure-tortured whimpers that came from her mouth. He wanted to see her naked, that sweet, soft flesh of hers exposed and ready for him, that silky skin so smooth under his fingers. She dug her nails into the muscles of his back.

“That’s right, lass,” he whispered. “Show me how much ye want me.”

“Ahh…” was all she managed as he grasped her other breast and repeated the same treatment with her second nipple while circling the first one with his thumb. “Oh, good God!”

He loved hearing her calling for God and making all those sounds of sweet distress. He’d had enough women in his life to know how to please one, but most of his connections hadn’t meant anything beyond mutual physical pleasure. With anyone but Mòrag.

And now, here, with Bryanna, this was nothing like what he’d experienced with anyone at all.

He wanted to please her, wanted her to squirm and call for more. As he moved down her body, while reaching to the edge of her dress, he noticed she was shaking ever so slightly, and when he ran his hands up her long, smooth legs, exposing her to him, she grasped his head, sitting up.

“Raghnall…” she said, a slight warning in her voice.

“Ye’re so beautiful, lass,” he said as he dragged his lips up her inner thigh, already inhaling the mouthwatering, intoxicating scent of her aroused sex.

“Raghnall!” she repeated, louder now.

“Are ye begging, lass?” he murmured as he spread her folds, covered with soft, dark-blond curls.

But before she could reply, he sealed his mouth with her sex, and there it was, the moan he’d been anticipating all this time, a deep, throaty call for more.

“Are ye begging?” he murmured as he leaned back for a short moment.

“More!” She gave up. “More!”

“Hmmmm,” he hummed right against her softest spot, knowing it would add to her pleasure, and a shudder went through her.

He kept caressing her, kissing her where he knew she’d love it the most, and his own body was ringing with a hot desire for her, like a church bell calling a warning. Urgent. Loud. Impossible to ignore.