Free Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) by Michelle Willingham

it out of the way, and curled his body against hers. The sensation of her hips pressed against him caused a fierce arousal. She’d always had this effect on him, like a confection he wanted to devour . . . but wasn’t allowed to taste.
    God, he wanted to peel away that gown, to run his mouth and teeth over her flesh. He wanted to cup her soft breasts, nuzzling them until she puckered for him.
    His erection was straining against the sheets, and he drew his hand to her waist. “I know you’re awake,” he murmured in a deep voice. “But keep on pretending you’re asleep, lass.”
    He gave in to impulse and pushed her fallen hair off her neck. He needed to taste her, to remind her of what there had once been between them.
    His breath warmed her skin, and she spoke at last. “Please . . . don’t.”
    “There’s no one here to see. No one would know.” He lowered his mouth to her neck, brushing his lips against her pulse. She shuddered, her hand reaching back to grip his knee.
    “If I were your husband,” he continued, “do you know what I’d do?”
    “You’re not my husband,” she responded. Her voice was the barest whisper, and there was no denying her apprehension. But her hand remained upon him, as if she wanted to hear his answer.
    “I’d awaken you in the morning by moving in close.” He kept his mouth on her throat, letting her feel the hard length of his arousal against her backside. “I’d reach over and cup your breast in my hand.”
    He moved his palm higher, keeping it just below the swell of her bosom. Beneath his hand, he could feel the constricted lines of her corset. “I’d touch you there, rubbing your nipple until it was tight, wanting my kiss.”
    Margaret tried to break away from him, but he held her fast. “I’d use my tongue against your bare skin, teasing your breast until you craved more.” Her breathing had shifted, and he could feel the telltale trembling of her body. “I’d take you in my mouth, lass, and suckle you until you were ready for me.”
    “Mr. Sinclair, please,” she begged. “Let me go.”
    But he’d already relaxed his hand. She could leave any time she wanted to.
    “I’d move on top of you and enter your body with my flesh,” he said. He moved against her, as if he were already doing so. “I’d fill you and thrust inside, until you begged me no’ to stop.”
    Abruptly, Margaret broke free, and scrambled to her feet. She didn’t look at him, but she blurted out, “Stay away from me.”
    Cain got up from the bed and faced her. “You felt it, didn’t you, lass? You’re afraid of me, no’ because you think I’ll harm you. But because you fear you’ll like it.”
    Her chin jerked up, and she glared at him. “How dare you? Do you think I’ll fall prey to your whims, behaving like a woman of loose morals?” She reached forward and snatched a knife from the table, pointing it toward him. “If you ever try to touch me again, I’ll bury this in your black heart.”
    Her face was crimson, but he suspected it was embarrassment more than anger. She hadn’t pulled away at first, making him wonder if there was a trace of guilt.
    “I’ll go and prepare our horse while you get some food ready,” he informed her, letting her keep the knife. If it made her feel safer, he didn’t care. ’Twould be easy enough to take it from her before she hurt either of them.
    Margaret said nothing as he went outside, but he knew she was seething over what he’d done. And yet he held no regrets. He’d never made it secret that he desired her, and he wasn’t the sort of man who spoke gentle words or behaved like a gentleman.
    He was more like an outlaw. Rules didn’t matter to him, and he’d broken the law more than once. Though he supposed he should have regretted touching Margaret Andrews, it only left him wanting more. He wanted to pleasure her, to take her over the edge until she cried out with ecstasy.
    When he returned to the vicar’s house, she served