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

a canny lad, but lately he wished he weren’t so bloody good at solving riddles.

Questions still needed answering. He might know what was important to Donell, but he still didn’t know why.

In knowing even as little as he did, however, his resolve to take the action Laird proposed solidified from an alternative to a must. Jameson was still out there. Mayhap in custody, but his confinement couldn’t last forever. Therefore, his threat persisted. Appalling and real.

Hugh had no desire to live the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. Always on guard. What sort of life was that? For him? For Claire?

As far as he could reason out of the options available to them, taking Jameson completely out of the picture was the only viable solution guaranteed to save lives.

Which would make him a murderer.

For all the debates he’d had with Hume on the subject of God and free will in the past, Hugh wasn’t a devoutly religious man, but he was a moral one. Killing for the sake of killing alone didn’t sit well with him. Aye, he’d taken a life before. Perhaps many on the battlefield of Culloden.

Fighting for God, King, and country relieved the burden of guilt. The blemish to his soul.

Could taking a life for the sake of love and family be any less righteous?

Even if it weren’t, wasn’t that cause worth the sacrifice of his morality?

If he could go back to his former life for but a day that would be the debate he’d engage his old friends in. Hume, especially would have a field day with the topic.

“Hugh? You’ve gotten awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

“Maybe you should stop then.”

He laughed. “’Tis ne’er been an easy task to subdue my thoughts, lass.”

“I know. You’re a thinker.” Her palm swept down his flexed stomach. “If you can’t turn them off, maybe we can turn them in a more productive direction.”

Her teasing fingers slid farther down to encircle the only part of him that wasn’t already tense and hard. Hugh sucked in a sharp breath as his mind did indeed delve into an entirely different subject matter. Then the blood pounding in his ears deafened him to any thought other than making passionate love to his wife.

“Och, Sorcha, how ye stir me,” he groaned, arching into her light grasp.

“I love watching you like this,” she whispered in his ear. “So aroused with lust.”

With a growl, Hugh turned her beneath him and captured her lips in a kiss that scorched him all the way to his troubled soul. “Nay, mo ghrá. No’ lust. My desire for ye isnae born in my cock. ‘Tis from my heart. This passionate love consumes me.”

His mouth claimed hers once more, fanning the flames of desire. He rocked against her, building the delicious friction of his chest against hers. His hips against hers. Heat combusted into a raw yearning to possess her. Until he was consumed in truth.

Her eager hands explored him, urging him on. They left his flesh aflame. Her satin body surrendered to his caress as he reached the junction of her thighs. Quivering beneath his fingers as he stroked and teased a throaty cry from her. The sound stoked Hugh’s ardor, his heart beating rapidly. Hungry for more, he dragged his mouth down to catch one nipple between his lips. He tongued the sensitive tip and reveled in her carnal sob, growing harder by the moment until he was throbbing against her thigh.

Claire clung to his broad shoulders, her nails digging in as he continued to caress her.

“Hugh,” she moaned hoarsely when he slid a finger between her wet folds.

Her lithe body bowed against him, urging him on. Head reeling, he could scarcely focus on his task. She was intoxicating in her rapture, his bonny lass.

She clenched around his finger as he slid in and out of her honeyed depths. “Oh, God. Yes. Yes, Hugh.”

“Aye, Sorcha,” he rasped, stroking harder. “Take yer pleasure, lass.”

“Oh, God!”

Hugh caught the plea with his mouth, absorbing her euphoric cries as she convulsed against his hand. Again and again, sobbing against his lips as she surrendered to oblivion.

Her hold on him slackened but only for a moment. Then her arms slid around his shoulders, pulling him close.

“I want you so badly,” she whispered, sending a shudder of pure want through him. “Come to me.”

“Aye, lass. I’m here.”

Though the blazing hunger tearing through him demanded he ravish her thoroughly, Hugh knew from experience there was greater satisfaction in prolonging the moment. Lifting her legs around him, he glided into her slowly, the erotic caress stealing his breath. His heart thundered, matching Claire’s as he moved within her in lengthy, agonizing strokes. The protracted moan he drew from her nearly sent him over the edge. Nuzzling the hollow behind her ear, he rasped her name as if it were a prayer.

Hugh lifted his head and looked down at her, savoring each slow thrust as if it were his last. Claire’s bewitching amethyst eyes smoldered with wanton pleasure. Knowing his wife was as consumed as he only served to fire his passions more. He thrust again, hard and deep, wringing a low, keening mewl from her. Another, harder earned him an elated gasp. Again, he matched her moan with a harsh groan.

“Yes, oh yes, Hugh.” His name became a breathy cry.

Cupping her bottom in his hands, he tilted her up and drove into her, drawing an enchanting yelp, but it wasn’t enough. He intended to make her scream loud enough this night to keep a blush upon her cheeks for a sennight more.

Hugh plundered her sweet body, harder and faster. Then faster still until her fervent cries tumbled one over the other. His own release was gripping him, but he denied its call. Only when Claire screamed his name as ecstasy took her