Taming a Highland Devil by Kimberly Killion Read Free Book Online

tight. While this sort of love play was certainly creative, it left her feeling vulnerable. A combination of fear and excitement made her pulse gallop.
    He straddled her hips and slid his calloused hands down her arms. “Did your husband ever hurt ye?”
    “Gavin never struck me.” But he broke my heart.
    “Did ye trust him?” Laird Sutherland drew his fingertips between her breasts, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
    ’Twas difficult to focus on his words with his fingers playing over her skin. “Why are ye asking me these questions?”
    “Because I want to know if ye trust me.” His words were soft, gentle, but what he wanted, she was not yet prepared to give. She’d known him all of three days.
    The rise and fall of her breasts grew increasingly more erratic. The air thinned, forcing her to breathe through her mouth. “Trust is earned, m’laird.”
    “Then I shall earn it.” Beginning at her neck, he trailed his tongue over the curve of her breasts, her belly, her hips. With every hot kiss he placed upon her skin, her consternation faded a little more. Arousal pushed the fear out of her veins as he continued downward to the inside of her knees, her calves, her ankles. “I will release ye from your binds whenever ye wish. Ye have to do naught more than ask.”
    She should ask now. She should end this play while she had the opportunity. “Do ye intend to hurt me?”
    “I will never hurt ye.” He kissed the arch of her foot then worked his way back upward and straddled her thighs. “Do ye believe me?”
    She nodded, convinced of one thing. The man was no beast.
    “’Tis progress.” He grinned as he retrieved a vial of oil from the bedside table and poured a generous amount into his palm.
    The scents of pine and icy mint sharpened in her nose as he massaged the silky substance into her breasts and belly. The aroma soothed her, but the cool oil tingled on her hot skin and stimulated her nerve endings.
    “I’ll make ye a good husband.” He began toying with her nipples—gently at first, then his fingers became more aggressive. He plucked at the knobs of flesh until they thrust obscenely upright. “I’ll never seek my pleasure before yours.”
    “Magnus…” she whispered, ready for him to claim her, ready for him to make her his wife. Her eyes fell shut, her grip around her binds tightened. She whimpered and squirmed beneath him as an aching arousal began to throb inside her. “I need ye.”
    “Not yet.” He positioned himself between her legs and massaged the hard lips of her sex, stroking the frilly folds, sliding his fingers up and down the full length of her wet slit.
    Fire and ice played havoc inside her. The craving became unbearable. Perspiration beaded on her forehead then trickled over her temples. She parted her legs farther, an unspoken plea for more, which he fulfilled when he delved two fingers inside her. She could do little more than moan as he worked his thick deft fingers in and out of her, reaching deep inside her to touch that hidden nub threatening to explode. Her entire being remained focused on that center of her, that magic place that fluttered around his teasing fingers.
    His thumb circled her clit, rolled it, pressed on it, only to drift back, leaving her hanging on the threshold of bliss. He worked her into a frenzy, teasing her, tormenting her, pulling her to the edge of climax, then pushing her back. A sly finger slipped inside the ring of her anus. She writhed at the sensation, but flexed her pelvis, desperate for more. Every touch, every caress drove her a little closer to insanity.
    Then fire sprinkled over her belly.
    She cried out. Her eyes snapped open to find him holding a candle over her navel. Before she could open her mouth to protest, he tilted the pillar again. Hot wax spilled over the rim and filled the whorl of her navel in a maelstrom of scalding heat.
    Her sex clamped hard around his fingers as pleasure and pain tore through her in waves. Her