The Highlander's Bride. Michele SinclairЧитать онлайн книгу.
had not made things worse by throwing the dagger. He admitted to himself that he had been duly impressed when she exhibited her skills. He had never seen a woman move more deftly and swiftly with a weapon. Her skill and accuracy evoked a pride in him that he couldn’t explain. But it was there nonetheless.
Laurel not only had the traits of a real lady—beauty, charm, and grace—but she had all the requirements needed to survive in the highlands. She was smart, skilled, resourceful, courageous, and had enough stamina to outlast any female he knew, and several men.
Her damp hair smelled of highland flowers in the spring, and her skin was smooth and sensual. He hurried to complete the torturous task. As he finished, he looked up and saw gratitude in her eyes. But there was something else there. She wanted him. Aye, she was just as disturbed as he was by their proximity.
She looked at him, motionless, as if waiting for him to make the first move. Something primitive erupted deep inside Conor under her glittering gaze. His hand brushed her cheek as he pushed her wet locks behind her shoulders. His other hand stroked her arm as he looked all the while into her eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and brushed his mouth lightly across hers, urging her to comply.
Her lips were soft, warm and innocent. He slanted his mouth against hers, and she kissed back, increasing the pressure. Her fingers splayed across his back, and he carefully pulled her up against his chest. The effect of her roving hands and her breasts on his body caused the constant ache in his loins to grow painful with need.
He deepened the kiss and played with her lower lip, encouraging her mouth to open to him. When she finally did, he dove in, absorbing her into himself while his hands slid slowly up her spine. She tasted so good. Just like her scent, her kisses were fresh, new, and innocent.
Laurel didn’t know that men and women ever kissed like this. When his tongue first danced with hers, she wanted to retract, but he wouldn’t let her. The erotic feel of his mouth grew until she was responding in kind, kissing him over and over again. Both her hands were wrapped in his hair, keeping his head down, encouraging the embrace to continue.
Conor had no intention of leaving the sweet vulnerable warmth behind her lips. The way Laurel was responding, he knew that her desire for more was also surfacing. Slowly his hand went down her shoulder and then down her back and rested under her breasts gently on the binding he had just tied.
When she increased the intensity of the kiss, his thumbs started rubbing her nipples back and forth until they were hard underneath his caress.
Laurel was surprised at being touched so intimately and was about to pull away when he broke from her mouth and started exploring her neck. At the same time, his hands were massaging and coaxing her taut breasts, causing her to unconsciously arch her back so he would have better access.
Her response was so genuine, so unrehearsed and pure, it fueled his need. Never had he wanted a woman like he wanted Laurel. How could someone so new to the ways of love and her own passions could be so incredibly desirable?
Slowly he slipped the sleeves of her chemise down so that her breasts were freed from the linen constriction. He looked down at her, and he saw that her passion-filled eyes were an intense blue-green. Never had he seen anything more lovely nor had he ever had the desire to make love with a woman more than he did right then.
Bending down, he took one nipple into his mouth. His tongue began to dance around the firm mound and his teeth nibbled the taut nubs. She moaned in response. Never in her life had she experienced or dreamed of anything like this. The world disappeared around her as his tongue swirled again and again, teasing each hardened nipple.
The warmth between her legs had steadily been growing and was now a blazing fire. The world around her had disappeared, and all she was aware of or cared about was Conor and what he was doing to her. She didn’t know what was happening, but she wanted more, needed more.
Conor was exploding with need. Her response and her repeated moans of pleasure were causing him to forget where they were.
Suddenly, he became aware of a young male voice invading his pursuit of heaven. “Conor! Hey, Conor! Cole and Finn sent me to get you. Where are you?”
Damn. It was Craig. What did he want? Conor quickly stopped and held an unsteady Laurel in his arms. The last few moments had left them both trembling with passion. He stroked her back and tried to calm his own desires.
“Conor! I am assuming you know where Laurel is. You may want to get her and bring her back. There is some movement on the perimeter from the other side of the camp, and it doesn’t look too friendly.”
Conor called out to Craig before he reached them. “Fine. Return to camp and let Finn know that I will be getting Laurel and returning immediately. Do not do anything until I get there.”
He heard Craig mumble and his retreating steps. “Laurel, love, we have to go back.”
She still had a death grip on his shirt, burying her face into his chest. He could feel her nod in agreement.
She took several deep breaths and raised her head. Still reeling from unfulfilled sexual need, she had so many questions for herself as well as him. But she realized that neither of them had any answers. Not saying a word, they prepared to leave the river and return to camp.
Once they were back, Conor left with Finn and his guard to investigate the movement on the ridge. They were on the edge of highland country and close to several clan boundaries. However, tonight’s disturbance was just a pack of wolves looking for their next meal. By the time Conor had returned, Laurel was asleep on his plaid.
Tonight, he wasn’t going to wait until her nightmares came. He crouched down and gathered her into his arms. She instinctively turned and placed her head on his shoulder and nestled close.
The joy and peace he felt holding her in his arms was unbelievable. Earlier that evening, this captivating woman had him feeling so hard and on fire. Now, while he still wanted her with a fierce possessiveness, he didn’t want to do anything to disturb this absolute feeling of contentment.
He bent his head and kissed her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. How this Englishwoman had woven a spell around him so quickly he did not know. But he knew that he was decisively caught in her enchanting web. He also knew that he was never going to let her go. His last thought before he drifted to sleep was that Laurel belonged to him.
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