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

long enough to strip her bare, he laid her on the bed, and shedding his kilt, stretched out next to her. He drew her close until they were touching from chest to toe. His legs wrapped around hers until their bodies tangled together.

His rough hands swept over her body from shoulder to hip, holding her even closer. She clung to him tightly. Ran her hands down his back and butt. She would never be close enough. Never have enough of him.

Never feel so deeply as he made her feel. She longed to tell him what was in her heart.

She knew it would be the most foolish thing she could do. Such an admission would drive him away even faster than telling him that her reality was not his.

Yet this… what she experienced with him was the most real thing she’d ever known in her life. It’d only taken an accident of science to make it happen.

His lips found hers once more, tender. Lingering. Trailing down her jaw and neck lazily. Yet she felt him stirring anew against her belly, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand swept down her back. Kisses trailed farther down until he was nuzzling the valley between her breasts. Lower and her heart accelerated. Rolling her over, his lips grazed over her belly sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

Then he cupped her bottom in his hands, lifting her hips and Al tensed…

His lips hovered just over the apex of her thighs, his deep breaths teasing her damp curls. His hot tongue parted her, drawing slowly upward over her throbbing nub, and that little shiver became a long shudder. He probed lightly once more, eliciting a low keening from deep within her.

She felt his smile, his pleasure.

He laved her ever-so-lightly, circling with the merest flick of his tongue. She tried to arch beneath him, to deepen the contact, but he held her hips tight, keeping her in place. Taunting, teasing. Tasting. Just enough contact to leave her panting in desperate arousal. Wound tight. On edge.

His name was a desperate moan on her lips. His dark curls crushed in her fists. He continued to toy with her, taking her to the brink over and over. Until she was weeping for mercy. Body and soul.

He tongued her one last time, leaving her hovering on the pinnacle. She cried out in pain as he left her. Cried out again in exaltation as he slid his body up the length of her own.

Drawing her legs around his hips, he probed her with his hard member and pushed inside. Her body pulsated around him, drawing him deeper. Aching for his possession.

“Yer sweet body is crying out for me, mo mhuirnín. As mine is begging for yers.” His lips met hers, drawing on her lower lip as he filled her completely.

Then he withdrew so deliberately the keening wail built within her once more. He was wreaking havoc on her body. Ravaging her soul.

“Ah, lass, ye maun be the witch I first accused ye of being for ye’ve bewitched me as I’ve ne’er dreamed possible.”

He thrust harder, deeper. But unhurriedly. Over and over until an agonizing throbbing began deep inside her. She trembled at the power of it. Her release when it came was not explosive as it had been. It didn’t wash over her. The force of it expanded inside of her until she felt it with every fiber of her being.

It owned her.

Just as he did.

Chapter 28

“Good morning, mo rúnsearc.”

Finding Al at his desk hunched over a piece of paper, Keir moved behind her and tilted her head back to kiss her tenderly. He meant for it to be nothing more than a brief peck. A greeting. But the taste of her soft lips roused the memory of their passionate night and he couldn’t resist lingering, drawing it out much as he’d elongated their lovemaking. He hadn’t wanted it to end.

She ran her tongue over her lips with a beguiling smile, one he would never have dreamed seeing on her face.

She would ever surprise him.

Looking over her shoulder, he took in the rudimentary sketch she was working on. “What is this?”

“Well, there’s one thing about being in your time I just can’t get used to,” she said, retrieving her fallen pen and drawing another curved line. “They never talk about it in the novels and it didn’t take me even a day here to figure out why. It’s just intolerable. And I was thinking to myself this morning, hey, I don’t have to live like this. I may not be a sanitary engineer but I am a quantum physicist. Surely I can figure it out.”

“Figure what oot?”

“Indoor plumbing,” she announced with a triumphant smile and holding up her drawing. “Believe me, it’s going to be big!”

“Plumbing?”

“Yes! It was supposed be almost a hundred more years before it really caught on but I figure since this is a whole different rea… well, why wait?” she continued, drawing a few more lines here and there and muttering under her breath. “I think I have a fair idea, if I can just figure out how to build enough water pressure.”

“Al… I dinnae ken what ye mean.”

“Water closets. Necessaries. Whatever you call them.”

“They are already indoors.”

“But they can be better.” She grinned up at him, delight sparkling in her gray eyes. “This is it, Keir. This is how I’m going to make my fortune in this time. Believe me, it’ll be a revolution. And hot showers, too!”

She was nearly dancing in her chair, excitement evident in her every movement, but he didn’t have any idea what she was getting at.

“Yer fortune?”

“Well, yeah. I have to be able to support myself somehow, right? There’s not exactly much call for professional scientists yet so I’ll need to use the skills and some marvelous futuristic ideas to make my way.”

He was thoroughly baffled. “Make yer own way?”

“Is it that confusing?” Her grin broadened and her eyes danced impishly. She reached