Pleasured by Camp Candace

Author:Camp, Candace [Camp, Candace]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

Damon’s kiss proved every word she had just said false.

Meg wanted to press herself against him, to wrap herself around him and take him into her. The desire she had felt that first night had swept her away, but it had been only a foreshadowing of what she felt now. She knew what lay before her—the sensations his supple fingers could draw from her, the scorching arousal of his kisses. She knew the thundering satisfaction when he filled her and the deep well of pleasure awaiting them. And she wanted, almost unbearably, to have that again.

In another instant she would throw away all scruples and pride; she would shame herself by pulling Damon down to the ground right here and giving herself up to him. A will-less, spineless slave to her desires.

“No!” Meg jerked backward, planting her hands flat on Damon’s chest and shoving him.

His arms fell open, releasing her, and he took a step backward. His eyes were dark and wild, his chest heaving, his face stamped with heavy desire.

Meg knew that she must look much the same. “Yes, I wanted you,” she snapped. “But that was before I knew what you were! I was weak and foolish. I let myself believe that you were different. I told myself I could not be attracted to a cruel man.”

“Cruel? Bloody hell, in what way have I been cruel to you?”

“Not to me! I do not care only for myself, as you do! I was there at the Keith croft that day. When you had your man MacRae throw them off their land.”

“A croft?” His voice rose in amazement. “Who is Keith and what does some croft have to do with anything? What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t matter to you! That is the point! Nothing matters to you except your own wishes, your own desires. We are not worthy of your consideration; our birth makes us something less than people to you. Perhaps we are useful to clean your house or cook your food or groom your horses. Or to grace your bed. But our lives mean nothing to you if we interfere with what you want. You want to bed a girl, so you do, then toss her a bauble to silence any chance of scandal.”

“What? That wasn’t—”

“Oh, yes, I know, it was not a mere bauble,” she said, plowing on through his attempt to speak. “I don’t care if it was the crown jewels. I am not something you can buy and sell. But that does not matter to you any more than it matters if the crofters are turned out of their homes, so long as you can make a profit. People or sheep, they’re all the same to you.”

“That is what you are angry about? You loathe me and my touch because I gave you a present? Because I have moved tenants off my land? Because I wish to raise sheep instead of tilling poor soil?”

“They are not just tenants! They have lived there all their lives. Those crofts have belonged to their families for generations.

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