A Laird to Hold by Angeline Fortin (best feel good books .txt) 📗

behind them, Connor cast a wolfish grin down at his wife as she knelt at his feet bandaging the gash in his knee.

“Any thoughts whilst ye’re down there aboot taking a wee nap ourselves?”

Emmy looked up at him and arched a brow. “Your knee is in bad shape.”

“Yers aren’t.”

Pain shot up his leg when she whacked him with the package of gauze. All the same, a wicked smile graced her lips. “Our early morning romp wasn’t enough for you?”

Connor traced the line of her jaw, enjoying the way her lips trembled and her lids grew heavy with just a single touch.

When he’d first fallen in love with his tempestuous lass and learned the truth of her origins, he’d worried he hadn’t enough to appeal to Emmy as compensation for all she would lose in his time. She’d assured him there was more for her to gain. The strength of his love and passion for her was something she’d never known before him.

He’d believed her.

Until he’d come to this time, seen for himself what she’d sacrificed for him, and knew every doubt she’d had about living in the past with him made sense.

Then to see how easily she slid back into her former life…Och, truth was it troubled him. Once again, she had her modern music, her gadgets as she called them. The clothes she preferred…

And bugger it all, as bonny as she was in a formfitting Victorian ball gown, bejeweled and primped, his Emmy was breathtaking in an oversized cabled sweater and the leggings the ladies preferred. Her sexy blonde hair falling in loose curls down to her hips. Earthy, sensual. Irresistible.

This time suited her better than his, he couldn’t deny it.

Emmy fairly oozed contentment. Her unveiled thrill for the things they’d experienced since coming back to her time was a harsh reminder of that unsettling feeling. And this after only a few months with him in the past. How would she feel after a few years? A few decades?

He didn’t want her to have any regrets. Yet, he, who’d never needed another before Emmy had come along and upended his world, couldn’t help but feel she was slipping away from him.

These past weeks, he’d savored every moment with her, made love to her each chance he had. Because somewhere in a wee corner of his heart, Connor feared when the time came, she might choose not to return home to Duart with him.

“Connor? Are you okay?”

“Aye, lass.” He forced a smile. “I’m merely so worn out from our lovemaking this morn, I find I may indeed need a nap in truth.”

“Are you really?”

He sucked in a sharp breath as her hands slid up his legs until her thumbs grazed the rising bulge in his jeans. Blast, they were the most uncomfortable garb for a man. He couldn’t understand why everyone wore them. Then Emmy released the button and slid down the zipper, reminding him why.

Her breath roused him like a caress even through his boxers. “I don’t think you need a nap. You seem fully awake to me.”

“No’ fully,” he groaned, lacing his fingers through her long blonde locks.

Emmy’s parted lips found him with the barrier of cotton still between them. “How about now?”

His blood pumped hot in his veins. “No’ yet,” he ground out, teeth clenched.

She pushed his T-shirt up and pressed her lips to a sensitive spot just below his navel, then she drifted upward. Her tongue trailed a path along the valley of his abs, up and up, until Connor yanked the shirt over his head and flung it away. Catching her around the waist, he lifted Emmy against him. Her arms looped over his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He gripped her bottom in both hands, grinding hip to hip until they fit together like two halves of a whole.

Emmy’s breath hitched and she met his kiss fervently, her moan echoing his insatiable hunger.

“Bed,” she murmured against his lips.

“Aye.”

Mouth still on hers, he carried her to their adjoining bedroom and slammed the door with one foot. Dropping Emmy onto the bed, Connor fell on top of her. He slid his hands up her sweater, giving silent thanks for the one thing beyond cars for which this time held a distinct advantage. Loose clothes with nary a stitch beneath them and easy access to all he desired. Pushing the sweater up, he caught her hard nipple in his teeth through her bra, enjoying her delighted gasp.

“Hurry, Connor,” she rasped.

Her hands roamed his bare chest and back, then slid downward into his loosened jeans to cup his arse. She pulled him down and lifted her hips against him. Lust as wild as a tempest tore through him. He shoved her leggings down over her lush hips, past her thighs, and down to her calves in one fell swoop. Kicking off her flats, Emmy caught them from there with a toe and dragged them down to her ankles.

Connor removed them from there and stared down at Emmy’s lacy panties, remembering the first time he’d seen her in modern undergarments. His desire to have them off her forthwith was even greater than it’d been then, but Connor savored the moment, bending his head to rake his teeth across the thin silk.

Emmy grabbed his hair with a throaty cry. “Connor!”

“Aye, lass,” he agreed to the silent plea, eager to taste her.

He tore away the barrier and caught the throbbing nub of her desire between his lips, sucking hard until Emmy arched her back, sobbing his name. He stroked her with his tongue, forcing her thighs farther apart for him.

A long, feminine keening drifted through the adjoining wall and Emmy released a huff of laughter. “Oh my God, I so did not need to hear that.”

Another cry had Connor chuckling as well. “If I