Free MacAlister's Hope by Laurin Wittig Page B

into his hands, wondering what it would feel like to have his skin against hers. Kieron growled and Fia could not help but laugh, delighted that she inspired such a fierce response in her Highlander.
    “You laugh at me, my lady?” He threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her before she could answer. Heat gathered within her, low and needy, with every stroke of his tongue against hers.
    “Aye, I laugh at you,” she whispered against his lips as she unfastened the pin at his shoulder, then pulled his belt free. His plaid fell to the floor and his desire for her was hidden only by his tunic.
    Shyness and curiosity warred within her. She wanted to see all of him, wanted to run her hands over his skin, wanted him to touch her in the same way, but before she could act on her desires he was loosening her gown and slipping it down her arms, to puddle at her feet, leaving her clad only in her kirtle. He lifted her into his arms again, and in three long strides laid her on the bed in the corner of the single room.
    The mattress dipped as he stretched out beside her, rolling her toward him so they faced each other. He ran a hand down her side, over her hip, and back up, skimming over her breast with the lightest of touches. Shyly she reached out and mirrored his caress, sliding her hand down his side, but she did not trail her way back up as he had. She hesitated for a moment, then slid her hand between their bodies. He closed his eyes and a low throaty groan escaped him as she ran her hand over him. The heat and hardness of his desire stole her breath and pushed everything out of her mind except Kieron. Her Kieron. Instinct took over as she hooked her leg over his hip and pressed herself to him.
    He slid his hand up her thigh, under her kirtle and cupped her bottom, pulling her harder against him, moving against her slowly, seducing her senses and her body until she was a haze of need, a maelstrom of desire. She pulled at his tunic, needing to touch him, needing his skin against hers as she’d never needed anything before. Quickly, he pulled the tunic over his head, then sat her up to divest her of her kirtle. They sat there, breathing hard, just looking at each other.
    “You are so lovely, my Fia,” he whispered as he reached out to run the backs of his fingers over her breast and down her belly, stopping just as he reached the apex of her thighs.
    “And you are the brawest man I have ever seen,” she said, mesmerized by his touch.
    He pressed her back and settled himself between her thighs, kissing her and moving against her until she thought she might die from wanting him.
    “Kieron, please,” she whispered. She knew what must happen next, though only from the gossip of other lasses newly bedded, but she had not understood the desire that fueled such couplings. The need to join with him, the desire to share this ultimate intimacy with the man she loved with all her heart, had her writhing beneath him. “Please, love.”
    Kieron stilled and looked her in the eyes, his own filled with more tenderness than she ever thought possible, and as he kept her gaze locked with his, he slowly filled her, pausing as they both felt the tug of resistance. “’Twill hurt, love, but only for a moment.”
    She nodded and he retreated, then surged into her. She gasped, but more from the incredible feeling of being one with him than from the swift flash of pain.
    He stilled. “Are you all right?” His tone was worried but she could only smile up at him and hook her leg over his hip again as she tried to get even closer.
    “That is not all there is to this, is it?” She smiled at him and let her instincts guide her movements.
    He groaned, and kissed her, then began to move with her, into her, over and over, driving her up into heights she had never known, spinning, flying, until they both cried out their joy.
     

     
    Annis watched as Kieron pulled Fia from the hall and as soon as she could, she slipped away from the gathering.