Free Highland Temptation by Jennifer Haymore Page B

tightened in her hair, and she pressed her body against his, her heart thrumming when she felt the rigidness beneath his kilt. But that didn’t make her pull away; instead, it compelled her to kiss him harder.
    They stumbled to the bed, and he pulled away for a moment to wrap his hands around her waist and lift her onto the mattress. He kissed her as he sat beside her, and they lay down together on their sides, facing each other with their lips locked.
    Keeping one hand curled around her nape, he moved the other, stroking down her upper back then to her ribs and over the dip in her waist, avoiding her wounds, before grasping her upper thigh in his hand and tugging her until her body was flush against his.
    His lips moved to her jaw, then her ear as his hand traveled again, gently pressing her onto her back while he moved her dress up her hip and stomach until he was cupping her breast. Even through the layers of fabric separating her skin from his, she felt it to her core as his thumb stroked her nipple. She shuddered, her whole body racked with sensation from that touch as his teeth closed gently over her earlobe.
    She turned to him, kissing wherever her lips could reach—his lightly stubbled jaw, across to his lips again, his flesh there soft and warm. Their tongues tangled, and with his hands on her breasts, Emilia thought she might swoon from the eroticism of this moment. She’d never been kissed, but she’d dreamed of kissing Colin from the moment he stepped into her father’s home. She’d imagined kissing as a gentle movement of a man’s lips over a woman’s. But this—this was intense, arousing. Her skin crawled and her blood boiled, and she wanted more, deeper.
    “Emilia,” Colin whispered gruffly, pulling back for just long enough to say her name before he was kissing her again, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, his lips moving all over her face, her jaw, her neck, and the exposed skin of her chest. His hot tongue trailed a path along the edge of her bodice. “You taste so good,” he muttered. “So damned good.”
    She pushed her hands into the thick brown waves of his hair, so different from her own wispy curls. She arched into his kiss, and he responded by kissing her harder, his fingers tightening on her breast and his lips firming over her skin.
    Gasping, she moved her hands from his hair to his broad shoulders, feeling the powerful play of muscles beneath his waistcoat.
    “Oh,” she whispered, feeling terribly feminine in the presence of his intense masculinity. She moved lower, over his arms, then over his hand where he still manipulated her breast.
    “Do you like that, Emilia?” he whispered gruffly. “Does it feel good to be touched like this?”
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    He softened his touch. “Do you like it gentle?”
    “Yes.”
    “Or hard?” He pinched her nipple, and she nearly leapt off the bed.
    “Yes,” she groaned. The hard pinch hadn’t hurt at all; it had made pleasure burst through her like a rocket.
    “Mmm…” he whispered. Moving higher, he was at her lips again, his voice rumbling through her. “I could kiss you all night.”
    “Yes, please.”
    He laughed.
    Someone knocked on the door. They both went rigid, Colin’s body like steel over hers.
    “Aye?” he said, turning his face to the door.
    “I’ve brought ye up a bit of warm water, for you and your lady to wash, Mr. Montgomery.”
    It was Mrs. Thomas’s voice. Eyes narrowed, Colin climbed off Emilia, and she slid from the bed as he strode toward the door. He looked back at her before he opened the door, ensuring she was presentable, she supposed. She smiled and nodded, then turned to the table and began to draw the pins out of her hair one by one.
    Colin opened the door and murmured thanks to Mrs. Thomas, but when she tried to bustle in, he told her they were tired and were attempting to rest a bit before dinner.
    “All right, then,” the older woman chirped. “Here’s yer hot water. And I