Free Claiming the Highlander by Mageela Troche Page B

failed to do his duty as heir. No longer.
    Caelen slipped into the chamber with his head down. His hand lingered on the handle as he spotted Brenna. She sat on the bed, wrapped in a damp drying linen. Her feet peeked out from the bottom where they perched on the bed frame. Her round toes curled around the edge. He shut the door, trying not to disturb her. She looked up over her brows and gave him a soft, welcoming smile.
    The bath linen drooped off one shoulder. She ran a comb through the edges of her wet hair that soaked the material. Her perfectly round nipples pressed against the fabric, revealing their pink flesh to his hungry gaze. She hummed a light sound that wasn’t from any song he recalled.
    Caelen set his plaid on the hook, listening to her hum. He tossed his balled-up leine in the basket. His father’s words echoed in his mind. Isn’t that why he married her, to better the clan? And it had been the reason. She hadn’t repulsed him. The opposite in fact—he saw her beauty, no man could look at her and not be hypnotized by it. He liked her purposeful glide and the way her arms swung at her side. He liked the way she would blink and appear innocent, but he had gleamed the deep intelligence in her sable eyes and her ever present smile. He liked her smile. So, his wife wasn’t musically talented. He found himself drifting toward her. She raised her head.
    Her flawless, rosy skin was scrubbed clean and emphasized the fullness of her lips. Brenna was delicate. His hand shook as he reached out to touch her He traced the feminine slope of her shoulder. Sure, he would leave a mark that would either brand her as his or mar her skin. He couldn’t stop. His caress smoothed up again to the base of her neck. He cradled the nape of her neck in his palm as his thumb brushed across her mouth.
    “You are beautiful,” he said as if only just aware of it when it had been in the forefront of his mind.
    Her lips parted. He heard the soft rush of air rather than felt it. Yet, he swore her breath breeze across his own mouth. He even though he smelled the sweet scent of her breath.
    He lowered his head and caught her bottom lip between his teeth. A quick nip before he freed her lip. He suckled the plump flesh to ease any sting. He claimed her mouth. Her well-shaped lips fit perfectly against his. He dipped his tongue into her mouth and snaked around her own. He parried, thrust, and twined their tongues. She moaned.
    His thumb caught in the wet strands of her hair. He trailed kisses to her neck, tasting her clean, damp flesh. The scent of roses, water, and cleanliness surrounded him. He’d replaced it with his own scent.
    He licked the speeding vein in her neck. Her heartbeat raced under the tip of his tongue. She moaned. The vibration spread through her neck and into his mouth. He caught the flesh and suckled at the thin skin. Her head fell back with a mixture of a sigh and a moan. His desire notched up and sent blazing heat through him.
    He laid her down and covered her with his body. He gripped a handful of her damp linen, snagging it on her harden nipple. Slowly, he inched down the thin barrier with a trail of open kisses before leaving the fabric draped around her waist. A swathe of silky flesh was exposed. The firelight danced over her naked flesh. He dipped his tongue into the depression at the base of her neck.
    Her fingers glided up his arms. Her nails skimmed his flesh. His hairs stood up and fired his nerve endings. Never in his life had he felt so hot, but he knew this was the beginning of their desire. She possessed passion. He would burn up from it.
    He slid his hand along her waist and cupped her breast. He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and then pinched the pliant apex between two fingers. She arched her back. Her malleable flesh pressed against his palm. The peak thrust against his callused flesh. He squeezed.
    He kissed a path to her breast. He closed his hot mouth around the cool flesh. He suckled, drawing