Free How to Abduct a Highland Lord by Karen Hawkins
Authors: Karen Hawkins
erotic pleasure flooding him. As he took her with renewed passion, she arched against him, clinging tightly.
“Jack!” she gasped.
The sight of her face, the pleasure that suffused her skin with a flush of pink, forced him to grit his teeth and hold back.
She clutched at his shoulders, lifting her hips, pressing against him, gasping for him to go faster.
In all his life, Jack had never had to fight for control the way he fought now. He’d never before flamed with such passion, desired anyone more. It was as if she’d cast a spell on him, making him hers with each touch and gasp.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he twined his hands in her hair, clenching his fists about the softness.
Her moans increased, and she moved frantically. He caught her shoulders and pressed deeply into her, holding himself rigidly in place.
Her eyes flew open. Her breath caught. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Suddenly, she thrust her hips forward, her heels pressing into the backs of his thighs as she came, her waves of tightening pleasure grasping at him, tugging him, making him crazed with lust as she gasped his name over and over.
Yet she did not stop. Her orgasm over, she bucked against him again, pulling him closer with her booted heels, spurring him on.
Jack thrust forward, sinking deeply into her and sending her over the edge once more. With a cry, she arched against him, clamping her legs around his hips as wave after wave of tightness clenched him.
He fell over the pinnacle with her, falling through a tumult of ecstasy, rasping out her name as he finally allowed himself release.
Gasping, he collapsed over her, keeping his weight on his elbows. She quivered below him, her eyes closed, her mouth parted, her face flushed with passion.
Jack rolled to his side, pulling her with him, and they lay in a tangle of legs and damp skin, hearts thundering, souls reeling.
Fiona thought she’d never be able to catch her breath, so hard was her heart pounding in her chest. But moment by moment, her heartbeat slowed, and she became aware of Jack’s broad chest against hers, the tickle of his breath in her hair, the deliciously sensual slide of his damp skin over hers.
She slid her arms around his neck and held him there, unable to move, incapable of thinking. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of him, the scent of their lovemaking, the freshness of the sheets, and the warmth of his skin.
Did Jack feel the same wonder? Had their passion surprised him as much as her? Or was it what he’d expected? Good God, what if sex wasalways like this for him—with every woman he’d been with?
Some of the glow began to subside. Fiona could feel his heart beating more steadily now, feel his even breaths in her hair.
She turned to look at him, at the way his lashes rested on the crests of his cheeks. Perhaps she should ask him, find out what he was thinking and feeling.
But…what if he wasn’t thinking the same things she was thinking? Of how wonderful, how special it was? Worse, what if it hadn’t been that good for him at all?
The uncertainty began to pinch at her. She had to ask him, had to know. She couldn’t just lie there and wonder. “Jack?”
He did not answer.
Oh, no, he had guessed what she was about to ask and was afraid to answer.
Fiona gathered her nerve. “Jack?” she said a bit louder.
A soft snore was her answer.
Chapter Six
The tale is a bit blurred on how MacLean came in contact with the White Witch. All we know for certain is that meet they did, and that neither of them would be the same afterward. Often that’s the way love is, sneaky and unrelenting.
OLDWOMANNORA OFLOCHLOMOND
TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT
“Umhph!” A thump in Jack’s side awakened him. He blinked and struggled to focus on the face in front of
“Jack!” she gasped.
The sight of her face, the pleasure that suffused her skin with a flush of pink, forced him to grit his teeth and hold back.
She clutched at his shoulders, lifting her hips, pressing against him, gasping for him to go faster.
In all his life, Jack had never had to fight for control the way he fought now. He’d never before flamed with such passion, desired anyone more. It was as if she’d cast a spell on him, making him hers with each touch and gasp.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he twined his hands in her hair, clenching his fists about the softness.
Her moans increased, and she moved frantically. He caught her shoulders and pressed deeply into her, holding himself rigidly in place.
Her eyes flew open. Her breath caught. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Suddenly, she thrust her hips forward, her heels pressing into the backs of his thighs as she came, her waves of tightening pleasure grasping at him, tugging him, making him crazed with lust as she gasped his name over and over.
Yet she did not stop. Her orgasm over, she bucked against him again, pulling him closer with her booted heels, spurring him on.
Jack thrust forward, sinking deeply into her and sending her over the edge once more. With a cry, she arched against him, clamping her legs around his hips as wave after wave of tightness clenched him.
He fell over the pinnacle with her, falling through a tumult of ecstasy, rasping out her name as he finally allowed himself release.
Gasping, he collapsed over her, keeping his weight on his elbows. She quivered below him, her eyes closed, her mouth parted, her face flushed with passion.
Jack rolled to his side, pulling her with him, and they lay in a tangle of legs and damp skin, hearts thundering, souls reeling.
Fiona thought she’d never be able to catch her breath, so hard was her heart pounding in her chest. But moment by moment, her heartbeat slowed, and she became aware of Jack’s broad chest against hers, the tickle of his breath in her hair, the deliciously sensual slide of his damp skin over hers.
She slid her arms around his neck and held him there, unable to move, incapable of thinking. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of him, the scent of their lovemaking, the freshness of the sheets, and the warmth of his skin.
Did Jack feel the same wonder? Had their passion surprised him as much as her? Or was it what he’d expected? Good God, what if sex wasalways like this for him—with every woman he’d been with?
Some of the glow began to subside. Fiona could feel his heart beating more steadily now, feel his even breaths in her hair.
She turned to look at him, at the way his lashes rested on the crests of his cheeks. Perhaps she should ask him, find out what he was thinking and feeling.
But…what if he wasn’t thinking the same things she was thinking? Of how wonderful, how special it was? Worse, what if it hadn’t been that good for him at all?
The uncertainty began to pinch at her. She had to ask him, had to know. She couldn’t just lie there and wonder. “Jack?”
He did not answer.
Oh, no, he had guessed what she was about to ask and was afraid to answer.
Fiona gathered her nerve. “Jack?” she said a bit louder.
A soft snore was her answer.
Chapter Six
The tale is a bit blurred on how MacLean came in contact with the White Witch. All we know for certain is that meet they did, and that neither of them would be the same afterward. Often that’s the way love is, sneaky and unrelenting.
OLDWOMANNORA OFLOCHLOMOND
TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT
“Umhph!” A thump in Jack’s side awakened him. He blinked and struggled to focus on the face in front of
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