Her Wicked Highlander: A Highland Knights Novella by Jennifer Haymore Read Free Book Online Page A

against his. He prodded her mouth open with his tongue and swept inside. She sucked greedily on his tongue, then licked and nibbled at his lips.
    God. He was drowning in her. She always surprised him, always gave him the reaction that made his gut clench and his regard for her climb. Now was no exception. She would never be a simpering miss, lying passively under him. She’d be an active participant—even when he threw her over his shoulder and onto his bed.
    “Aye,” she panted against his lips. “ Finally. ”
    “You’re a minx,” he growled. “I should spank your arse.”
    “I dare you,” she hissed, her green eyes dancing with mischief.
    “Oh, not tonight, lass. But one o’ these days I’ll be spanking that bonny arse until it’s bright red. And then I’ll be taking you hard under me until you’re screaming with pleasure.”
    “Aye,” she said, her eyes darkening. “That’s what I want. Make me scream, Max. Please.”
    Yes, he would. He kissed her again, thoroughly, then he kissed his way down her body until he’d settled himself between her legs. He took her calf in his hands and kissed his way up her stockinged leg. Just above her ribbon garter, he grazed the bare skin of her thigh with his teeth. She tried to wiggle away, but he held her leg firmly.
    He soothed the bite with gentle kisses, then worked his way up the inside of her thigh, pushing her skirts up as he went. The higher he climbed, the more she shuddered.
    Finally, he reached the apex of her thighs. He pulled back for a moment to look at her womanhood—sweet and pink, glistening with her desire.
    He was the first man to see her here, and that gave him a kind of primal satisfaction. She belonged to him. This belonged to him. Today he would mark her, make her his.
    He tried to shake all those thoughts away, for they were wrong as could be, because Aila would be the first to tell him that she belonged to no one but herself. But he couldn’t stop. The desires to possess her, to own her, were part of him now.
    “I’m going to kiss you here,” he told her. “For a verra long time. I wilna stop when you beg me to stop but when I decide it’s time.”
    He pressed his mouth to the slit between her legs and gave her a long, languorous kiss. Above him, she groaned. Her hips jerked, but he held her steady. She tasted of woman and musk, smooth and silky. Her thighs tightened over his ears, and he feasted.
    When she squirmed beneath him, panting and moaning, he added a finger—a single finger this time. He stroked her with it, exploring her folds, from her opening to the tiny nub above it. Exploring her to see what made her cry out, what made her shudder, and what made her body shy away.
    He pressed the single digit into her as he kissed the nub just above. Her channel fluttered around his finger as he explored, but then, as he kissed harder, she began to tighten around him. Oh yes. This was just what he was looking for.
    He redoubled his efforts, licking and kissing and suckling her, stroking in and out, dragging the pad of his finger along her inner walls.
    “Oh Max, oh Max,” she chanted above him. “I canna... you must stop... oh!” He loved how loud she was. How expressive.
    She began to writhe. Her passage was so tight around his finger, he had to use force to push it in.
    And then she screamed. Her body went rigid only to break a second later into long, undulating shudders. He licked her through the orgasm, lapping up the ambrosia of her sex.
    Finally, she seemed to sink into the bedclothes, spent and shivering. He withdrew from her body and crawled up her. She lay peaceful, her eyes closed, and he kissed her.
    “Do you taste yourself on my lips?”
    “Aye,” she whispered gruffly.
    “Sweet, aye?”
    She made a grumbling noise.
    “I’m going to go inside you now, Aila. Are you ready for me?”
    That drew her lids open. She met his eyes with her own and nodded.
    “Fierce, sweet lass,” he said. “It’s going to