Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) by Angeline Fortin (whitelam books .TXT) 📗

sight it was so arousing he’d been glad for the chilled water of the firth to cool his ardent erection.

At least to a level fit for her eyes.

Her body was everything he’d imagined it would be. Lush. Curvaceous. Tempting beyond hope. It had taken all his will to refrain from ravishing her on that beach. Only the knowledge that they would soon be alone had given him the strength to watch her run into the water untouched. Though the sight of her rounded bottom cupped by a mere scrap of cloth had sent him bounding after her.

As a sort of reward for resisting, he’d been given a glimpse of an Allorah Maines he might never have known existed. A water sprite, impish and playful. True joy dancing at her lips as it hadn’t before.

He exalted in her open joy. Sharing it with her.

But that wasn’t all he longed to share.

Truth, he didn’t care to wait any longer.

Duke or not.

*

Honestly she was surprised they made it all the way there. There had been a close call in the stairwell with her pinned against the treads that had almost belied his insistence on seeing them to a private locale.

She hardly had a second to ascertain the room Keir led her to was in fact a bedroom before he slammed the door and trapped her to it. Tossing their shoes and sundries aside, he kissed her tenderly, so tenderly it might not have been called a kiss, but she felt the tension in his body, the tightly leashed passion.

“Are ye certain, lass?” he had the gentlemanly nerve to ask, as if the thousand kisses delaying their journey from beach to bedchamber might have relayed some doubt. “We needn’t rush. There is time yet.”

For what? More waiting? No, she was ready for this. She wanted this. The ultimate compendium of the thousands of novels she’d devoured in her life. No longer did she have the vaguest doubt that he would trump them all. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Whether it was rushing or not. Accelerated her departure or not.

Drawing his head down, she answered him without words. With a hot kiss, her lips parted and inviting. A kiss of encouragement.

An unequivocal yes.

With a groan—of relief?—Keir cupped her cheeks in his hands and deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth as he hadn’t yet. There was not gentleness anymore, just pure need, and she answered him in kind. Her blood burned in her veins in an instant. Pounding in her temples. Nipping. Licking.

Her head swam until she felt almost faint. Still, he persisted, stealing her breath. It wasn’t enough. He tasted of sin, wicked temptation. As wonderful as the kisses they’d shared in the carriage had been, she knew now they’d been little more than child’s play.

These kisses weren’t meant to seduce. They were meant to enflame. To bewitch. To burn. Unable to bear it any longer, Al tore her lips away with a cry of surrender.

He gave no quarter, raking his teeth down the side of her neck. He licked at the hollow behind her ear. Nipped at her lobe. Bit her shoulder.

He turned her in his arms, unlacing her dress much as he had on the beach not long before. But there was no laughter now, no teasing. Her bodice fell away. Her skirts fell to the floor unnoticed.

Turning her once more, he looped his finger under her bra strap again. As he tugged it off her shoulder impatiently, she had no doubt this time what interested him more. The other strap followed, baring her breasts to his burning gaze. When she tried to cover them with her hands, he pushed them away.

“Nay, lass. Let me look my fill.”

Her body quivered under his hands as they skimmed down her arms. Up her ribcage until his hands cupped her breasts over her bra. “Ye’re so lovely.”

A long sigh escaped her when he bent his head, his tongue traced the rise of her breast swelling from the satin cups.

“Oh, Keir… yes.”

“Aye, mo ghrá, I intend tae if ye’ll take this bluidy thing off,” he growled.

With a strangled laugh, she reached around and unclasped the bra, letting it slide down her arms. His hands were back in an instant, scorching against her tender flesh.

“Sweet lass.” His head dipped once more, his tongue circling one sensitive nipple until her knees grew weak.

“This is so not a bed,” she whispered hoarsely, clinging to him for support. He stared at her, his blue eyes aflame with an inner fire she’d never seen in them before. “You insisted on a bed.”

A wicked grin turned up the corner of his mouth. “So I did.”

He lifted her, cradling her in his arms for the few seconds it took his long strides to cross the room to the bed. He laid her on it, following until she was pressed deep into the mattress beneath him. Their mouths met once more. His chest searing her breasts even through his thin shirt.

But she wanted more. She tugged at his hem and he leaned away to yank it over his head, balling it up before flinging it aside. His chest bulged and flexed, and Al couldn’t help herself. Running her palms over his pecs, she gloried in the feel of his solid flesh, his hot skin.

He gave her hardly a second to enjoy it though. He covered her once more. This time, she cried out as skin met skin. It was electrifying. Her body was instantly ablaze.

She squirmed beneath him, fisting her hands in the bedcovers. Unable to resist, she drove her fingers into his hair and tugged him up to meet her hungry lips once more. He complied with a groan. Tasting her again and again as if he couldn’t get enough.

She doubted she ever could. He was a feast. To her eyes. To her lips. His hands skimmed down the length of her body and up once more to close over her breasts. Then his lips