Free Highlander Brawn by Eliza Knight Page B

the words he emitted. Hated him more for the vivid thought of being hauled across his knees as he spanked her bare arse. Hated that the image sent chills of yearning racing along her spine. Her body was betraying her… This was not part of her plan. She didn’t want this. She knew firsthand the pain of falling in love.
    And yet… She desired him. But she also felt a deeper connection than just yearning. Somehow, her mind called out to his, and likewise, when he looked at her, she felt the same draw from him. There could never be anything between them. Sorcha could not ever explore what those feelings meant. She would not allow herself to fall in love. However, she would permit touching—just once—to satisfy her curiosity.
    She stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Without another thought, she pressed against him, licked her lips. “Then I hope ye will be the one to dole out my punishment.”

Chapter Two
     
    Laird Reed Campbell stared in disbelief at the imp who’d molded herself so tantalizingly against him. What was she up to? He narrowed his brows and gazed into her dark-blue eyes. They were wide with conflicting emotions of desire and fear.
    “What are ye doing?” he asked, disliking how much his voice sounded as though he were choking on his own tongue. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry.
    He inhaled and exhaled roughly through his nose. She would be the death of him for sure. His whole body ached to press her completely against him. Even now his plaid lifted in the front—his cock raging hard and demanding entrance into her hot, wet channel.
    She smelled of flowers, fresh air, sweet grass. How he would like to toss her onto the bed and taste her essence.
    But first he would punish her. With a kiss. He kept his hands fisted at his sides so as not to touch her. Her brother would kill him. Hell, she might kill him. Their clans had just formed a fragile alliance; this moment could mean the cessation of trust.
    But he could not hold himself back without at least one taste. He bent low, his eyes never leaving hers, and brushed his lips against her own. They were soft, wet from where she’d licked them. He growled and uncurled his fists. He pressed his lips more firmly to hers, slid his tongue along the seam until she opened to him, inviting him in with a tiny flick of her tongue.
    He stroked his palms up her arms, relishing her shiver as he did so. His hands came to rest against the silkiness of her neck, his thumbs tracing the pulse at her throat and then the delicate lines of her jaw. He tilted her head and deepened the kiss, taking possession, punishing her with his tongue, his lips. He pushed his cock against her warmth, finding a welcoming dip at the crux of her thighs.
    She whimpered against his mouth, and at first he took it as fear and started to pull back but she only gripped him tight—on the arse—urging his cock more fully against her mound.
    Oh, heaven. He kept his kiss unrelenting and explored the length of her neck, the slope of her shoulders and the round, plush globes of her breasts. Jutting from her gown were two jewel-hard nipples. With each brush of his thumbs, each tiny pinch, she moaned, quivered and swayed closer.
    He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. He didn’t want to. He wanted to go all the way. He gripped her gown and inched it up slowly but steadily until he brushed the bare skin of her thigh.
    She moaned into his mouth and he groaned, rocking his pelvis closer to hers, mimicking what he’d do to her if they were no longer clothed, and just that thought had more blood rushing to his already rock-hard cock. He gripped her leg, wrenching it up around him to gain better access to the warmth between her thighs.
    “ Mo creach , are ye an angel or a siren?” he growled against her warm, moist lips.
    “I am neither,” she panted. She rubbed up and down his back, undulating against him with tiny whimpers of pleasure. “I am but a woman in need of a man.”
    “I