Page 71 of Wedded to the Twisted Highlander
“Ye do realize that we are playin’ a game of hide and seek and ye dinnae hide very well,” Thomas said as he came upon her.
A shrill cry escaped her lips as he lunged for her and missed, clutching the tree instead of her arm. She was a tricky vixen.
Her soft giggle was muffled by the trees and shrubbery as Thomas tried again, lunging for her. His fingers curled around her wrists before she could dart away. A gasp escaped her lips—a sound that reverberated through him, igniting the flames that had been smoldering since the moment they began their playful game.
“And just where do ye think ye’re goin’?” he whispered, his hot breath caressing her ear.
He reveled in the thrill as he noticed the same yearning burning in her eyes. Anticipation swelled within her as he watched her chest rise and fall rapidly. Her lips twitched at the corners as she bent her body toward him.
“Are ye goin’ to kiss me?”
Holding her wrists firmly, Thomas pinned her arms above her head. She didn’t flinch or recoil from him, nor did she try to buck him off. Her gaze was direct and steady.
He took a moment to savor the sight of her, the way her bosom rose and fell with each ragged breath. But it was the way her cheeks flushed a deeper red that took his breath away. He leaned closer, allowing his lips to brush ever so slightly against her jaw.
He dragged out his answer, allowing the tension to build between them. Slowly, he pulled back to meet her gaze… and found himself lost.
She had ensnared him.
“That depends,” he murmured as he teased her with feather-light kisses that sent a sensual shiver through her.
Her body radiated warmth. He felt as if he had stepped into a hot spring. He pulled in a long, deep breath, savoring her intoxicating scent, which had engulfed him like a sweet embrace.
Holding her gaze, he could no longer stand the torture as he leaned in to claim her lips.
Astrid found his lips and kissed him with a fierce urgency that took him by surprise. His lips moved against hers with the hunger that had been building all morning.
“Thomas…”
His name lingered on her lips like honey, sticky and sweet. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say; all he wanted was for her to surrender to him in every possible way.
“I want ye,” he whispered against her mouth. “Do ye ken that I want ye every second of every day? Ye’re the only woman who’s ever been able to get under me skin. I’ll do whatever ye want—just please let me have ye,” he pleaded as his teeth grazed her earlobe.
His plea hung in the air between them. Astrid eased back from him, breaking their kiss. Watching her chew on her lower lipdrove him mad and only stoked the flames of his longing. She said nothing but simply hooked her leg around his hip.
Thomas took her cue, and in one swift motion, he secured her hands in one of his.
The shift drew her closer, allowing her body to press against his. A smile played at the corners of his lips as he felt her warmth seeping through his shirt. The air between them pulsed with unspoken desire, threatening to consume them both.
“Do ye trust me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
She nodded, her breath hitching slightly.
A bolt of need surged through Thomas at her response. With his free hand, he lifted the hem of her skirts and bunched the soft fabric at her hips. His smirk widened as he looked deep into her eyes.
There was something raw and fierce about the way she looked at him. Perhaps it was how vulnerable she felt, with him pinning her to the tree.
The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on her face, highlighting the heat in her eyes. The fact that she trusted him didn’t go unnoticed. It was a heady mix of power and responsibility, and Thomas felt a thrill at the connection they were forging in that secluded moment.
Encouraged by the yearning in her gaze, his hand roamed freely over and around her bosom, exploring the delicate curves of her body with a reverence that was both tender and electrifying.
Each brush of his hand or graze of his fingertip over her flesh was deliberate. It was as if he were a conductor playing her body like a fiddle, each gesture carefully orchestrated.
He couldn’t help but waltz between her trust and the sultry temptations that hung thick in the air between them. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, and the way her breath quickened under his touch sent shivers through him.
As he traced the outline of her figure, he marveled at the softness of her form, the way it fit against him like a puzzle piece finally found. There was a wildness in her eyes that mirrored his desires, a silent invitation to explore not only her body but also the depths of their connection. With each movement, he was acutely aware of the precarious balance they were maintaining—teetering on the edge of passion and restraint, trust and desire.
He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers, the world around them fading into a distant blur. At that moment, it was just the two of them—the tree, the whispers of the wind, and the unspoken promises that hung between them. The thrill of the unknown egged him on, and he was determined to savor every second of this intoxicating encounter.
