Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

ye.” He pulled back slightly, and she heard his breath coming hard like hers. “That is, if ye wish it.”

She shivered, pulling his face back down, his lips hovering less than an inch over her own. “I wish it,” she said, and the foolish plan to lure him back to Hillside faded like the mist. She pressed against his evident arousal. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, lass,” he said in her ear, pressing her to him. “I will most certainly.”

Chapter Three

“Thus the expert in battle moves the enemy,

and is not moved by him.”

Sun Tzu – The Art of War

Kára’s heart hammered, her breathing hard, and she melted back into him with wild abandon, which he met with equal force. She let out a hum at the back of her throat between kisses as his hands stroked up her tunic to the binding around her chest where he yanked it down, releasing her breasts. Her nipples were already hard and sensitive, and she sucked in as his hand came around to cup one globe, pinching the peak and palming the fullness.

Unhooking her ankles, she dropped down his length until her boots hit the earthen floor. With two steps, he backed her up against the cold wall of the barn, holding her there and yanking her tunic up and over her head. The mountainous outline of the warrior was the only thing she could see in the darkness, but she could definitely feel.

His large hands stroked over her skin. “Ye are so bloody soft and ripe with curves.”

Sliding her palms over the muscles of his chest, her fingers scraped down through the fine hair that led toward the edge of the wool wrapped around his hips. What was her plan again? Her hands spanned his mass of masculine strength, unable to think, only to feel. She let her instincts take over.

Kára bent her face forward, her hot breath branding his skin. He shuddered as she planted wet kisses up his chest, licking over his taut nipple. The fact that she could affect this formidable man made her even more bold.

When she reached his neck by standing on the toes of her boots, she pushed a hand against his shoulder, shoving him around and back so that he leaned against the wall, trading places with her. His chuckle turned into a low growl as his hand stroked up under her heavy hair to cup her head, pulling her forward to stand between his straddled legs.

Joshua Sinclair wasn’t some easily bruised lad. He was built large and hard. Was the rest of him the same? Kára slid her hand up his thigh and under his kilt to the raging erection there. Wrapping her fingers around him, she stroked up and down, her mouth going back to his. “Such power,” she said against his lips, slanting to kiss him thoroughly. Her stroke pulled a groan from deep down within his chest, the vibration teasing more sensation through Kára until she trembled with lust. Nothing else mattered but this man in her hands, his strength and heat, and her need for him.

With a growl, the Highlander spun her around so her back was once again pressed against the wall, the roughness of the layers of flat stone cold on her naked back. His mouth dove down to her breast, covering her nipple as he loved first one and then the other, lapping and palming her breasts until they felt like they were swelling, yearning for the touch of his tongue. A line of heat tightened within her aching body from her nipples down to her core, fanning the fire already burning there. Resting her head back, she let her moan fill the barn. Ninny answered with a bleat, making the Highlander raise his head.

Kára grabbed his arm. “This is not where I sleep.” Leaving her tunic and his clothes, she led him to the door.

“Ye will freeze,” he said, stopping her.

“’Tis not far.” She pushed out into the night, her hand still clasping his. Four steps brought them up to the abandoned well that wasn’t a well but an opening into her cozy den. She’d discovered it years ago, cut down inside the hillside, a dwelling from ancient times. When her son, Geir, had begun to sleep at her brother’s home, leaving her because he felt he was starting to grow into a man, she’d made the hollowed-out earth home into a comfortable nest. Here she was hidden away from the world and the pressures of helping her uncle save her people.

“Slide down the rope,” she said, letting go of his hand to grab the old well rope. For a moment, she stopped to stare at him in the slight moonlight. His chest and shoulders bare, she saw scrollwork tattooed around his biceps. Toned muscles and absolute strength made her mouth go dry. Could he hear the rapid thud of her heart? What the bloody hell was she doing? Seducing the only man powerful enough to conquer Robert Stuart.

When his gaze traveled to her breasts propped up by the lowered bindings, she swallowed hard. She couldn’t deny her want of him, but the intensity she felt made him dangerous. Even the cold wind couldn’t squash the flames raging inside her. Her plans had burned up with his touch, so she would have to continue completely on instinct. And her instincts told her that Joshua Sinclair needed to fall in lust with her in order for him to stay on Orkney.

Taking a deep breath, Kára smiled with what she hoped was a seductive grin. “Come down into my hole, Highlander,” she said, and grabbed the rope to kick her legs over the well’s edge.

…

Joshua Sinclair watched the woman lower gracefully down the rope into the dried-up well he’d seen before outside the barn. He never would have guessed that it led anywhere. Maybe she’s a selkie and leading me to a watery death. If he got a chance to taste her further, he didn’t care.

Grabbing the