Wild Highland Magic by Lisa Ann Verge

Author:Lisa Ann Verge
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Medieval
Published: 2016-11-14T18:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Her hair smelled like Inishmaan.

With his nose buried in it, Lachlan imagined they were lying upon the windswept heights while waves crashed upon the shore below. In his mind, he carried her there like a bride. He laid her down amid the heather. He peeled her clothing off her body and watched the way the sea mist beaded upon her skin. He licked those beads off her belly and drank where they pooled in her navel. He took her hips in his hands and slipped into her while she arched up off the ground in pleasure.

His cock swelled despite the fact that he was only moments past his own pleasure. She lay warm beneath him, every breath bringing his chest in contact with her soft, pliant breasts. All it would take was a shift of his hips and he’d make that fantasy real.

The idea filled his head and cast a haze across his conscience. He groaned and mustered enough control to roll off her. He seized her hand and pressed her knuckles against his lips, trying to ignore the hollow craving in his heart. Blinking up at the carved underside of the bed’s canopy, he counted diamond panels in order to cool his blood, then he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of other things—duty, honor, obligations. A vision of her father rose into his mind, whose countenance demanded he do right by the woman who now lay naked beside him.

How could I resist her? He’d been so sure she would come to her maidenly senses once she dropped her clothing. But the woman who’d emerged had not covered her body, had not shrunk with shyness, and had not looked up at him with eyes begging for gentleness. She’d stood with her shoulders thrown back. Her gaze had been a challenge.

An ache reignited in his balls.

Damn it.

He shifted to his side, bracing himself for the sight of her face, passion-flushed, and her lips begging for more.

Instead he saw tears.

He shot up onto his elbow. “Cairenn—”

She pushed away quicker than he could stop her. He reached for her but all he caught was a lock of her hair that slipped through his fingers. She shot off the bed, swept up her shift from the floor, and strode naked to the other side of the room. Stopping in front of a table near the privacy screen, she seized a cloth and dipped it in a bowl of water.

By the bend of her neck he surmised that she was washing her belly. Her sweet, rounded bottom swayed with every stroke.

“Mo chridhe,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head once but did not turn to face him. Maybe it was his restraint that had angered her. Maybe he needed to explain that he had held off from spilling inside her so that there would be no complications from their coupling. He had enough experience pleasing willing women, but narrow experience with an eager innocent. Somehow, he’d fallen short of her expectations.

No, he thought.

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