Branded: That Old Black Magic Romance (Heart's Desired Mate) by Ann Gimpel

Author:Ann Gimpel [Gimpel, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ann Gimpel Books, LLC
Published: 2018-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

If Liam thought he was lost before, the sight of the high, mounded globes of Aisha’s breasts undid him. He couldn’t have held himself back any more than he could have held back the tides, and he latched onto a coppery nipple with his mouth. By Pan and all the lusty gods, the witch in his arms was made for sex. For loving.

For me, a voice growled deep within. She was made for me.

Aye, she’s mine. Dragon possessiveness blasted to the forefront of his mind.

Aisha grappled with his ancient denim, fleece-lined jacket while arching into his hungry kisses as he moved from one breast to the other. Reaching back, he tugged on a sleeve until the coat slithered aside. She started unbuttoning his shirt, but after the first button got caught in an errant thread, she gripped the cotton and ripped it open.

Liam let go of her breasts long enough to tip his head back and laugh. “Go for it, wench. You can destroy as many of my clothes as you want.”

She was breathing hard, and lively rose splotches covered her chest and face. “Naked,” she panted and reached for the buttons to his jeans. “We need to be naked. Now.”

“Aye, naked would make this so much easier.” He undid his belt. By then, she had his jeans open and was working her fingers inside. “Hang on, sweetheart.” He hated to turn away from those wonderful breasts, but he had to lever his boots off. The bootjack was in the other room, so he worked the toe of one boot against the heel of the other until it gave way. He dragged the other boot off with both hands.

“Oh yeah. Boots,” she mumbled and went to work on hers. “What the fuck did cowboys do?”

“Women wore skirts in those days.” Boots out of the way, he pushed his jeans down his legs and grinned rakishly. Damn, she made him hot, but in a way that felt like he’d come home.

She snickered. “Skirts as in just huck ’em up and go for it?”

“That was precisely how it worked, a great improvement from the Middle Ages I might add.” He unfastened her Levi’s and got hold of them, peeling the skin-tight denim down her legs.

“And you’d know those things how?” She arched a brow and wriggled beneath his touch before making a grab for the tented-out front of his shorts.

“How else, lass? I was there. We live a long time, as do you.” He tossed her pants aside. All that stood between him and seeing all of her was a lacy, black thong. He tapped the elastic that rode low on her hips. “Pretty fancy. Were you planning on a gentleman caller?”

“Can’t a girl have nice things just for herself?” she countered and wrapped a hand around his unruly appendage. “Wow. Just wow. Why’d you leave the shorts on? I want to see all of you.”

Before Liam could divest himself of his jockeys, she’d done it for him, dragging the bit of white cotton down his legs.

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