Page 56 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
Ava stifled a snicker. “What?”
“Just because it is dark out, doesnae mean I cannae see yer face, lass.”
Ava clamped her hand over her mouth. “I am not laughing.”
“Ava.”
As if the sound of her name had broken a dam, Ava doubled over and started to laugh.
Brodrick watched her, a slight smirk on his face. Her quiet laughter was like music to his ears, and the way her face reddened when she looked back up at him endeared him to her even more.
“By any chance, My Laird, did you have anything to drink before taking Margaret to the gallery?” Ava finally asked once her laughter died down.
“Nay.”
“Oh. And nothing from Irene’s apothecary?”
“What are ye implyin’?”
“What amIimplying? You’re the one who said a portrait smiled at you.”
“I said itlookedlike it smiled. And nae at me but at Margaret.”
“I am most definitely certain that a portrait cannot do that. Perhaps it is a Scottish thing that I am not accustomed to yet.”
“There are several Scottish things ye arenae accustomed to; it is quite obvious,” Brodrick drawled.
“And I am certain you plan to teach me some of these?”
“As yer Laird, it is me duty to instill some of those manners in ye.”
Brodrick felt it almost as soon as the words tumbled from his mouth—the complete shift in conversation. The tension in the air.
He could see it in Ava’s eyes as well, the allure, the seductive tilt to her smile.
“And what, pray tell, are these manners?”
“Well,” he murmured, leaning closer to her.
Without letting himself overthink it, he placed his index finger on her thigh. Then, slowly, he trailed that finger down to the hem of her dress.
“I could teach ye the proper way to speak to a laird. I am certain nay one’s ever had to do that before.”
He heard her suck in a sharp breath. His fingers now traced the hem of her dress, moving the fabric until they landed on her stockinged shins.
“I would teach ye,” he continued, leaning in further, his lips barely grazing her clavicle, “that a laird should be treated with respect.”
Ava’s legs quivered ever so slightly as his hand inched closer to her inner thigh. His lips found the base of her throat, and he began to kiss it softly at first. His lips matched the rhythm of his hand still trailing up her thigh, the heat of his fingers incredibly titillating.
“Brodrick…” Ava gasped.
“Ye have been incredibly disobedient, Ava,” Brodrick purred, his lips finding her breastbone as his free hand slowly unlaced her corset.
Her dress loosened around her chest, and he wasted no time swooping down and wrapping his lips around her nipple. The feel of his tongue on her flesh set her entire body on fire.
“And ye,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “deserve to be punished.”
Ava’s heart skipped a beat, as if she had just been told the secret of the world. As if her body had just absorbed pleasure in its purest form.
