Page 25 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
She gave him a meaningful look, frowning at him as he towered over her, but he made no attempt to move away.
Without thinking, he raised a hand to her face, wanting to feel the softness of her skin, fresh from the bath. She pulled away, her back finally connecting with the wall as she blushed furiously.
“Ye shouldnae dae that, lassie,” he said.
I cannae stand her pullin’ away from me.
“What?”
“Ye shouldnae run from me. Beasts love the hunt, after all.”
Her slim fingers pulled at her robe again, and Callum had to wrestle against his body’s need to drag her against his chest, put her over his shoulder, and march her to the bed.
“I am not running,” Lydia murmured. “I am just confused. You say that you don’t want to spend time with me, that you don’t care for an heir or a bride, but here you are trying to touch me.”
Callum moved closer still until their chests were almost touching one another.
“And who says I need to care for ye to touch ye, lassie?”
“I do!” she protested.
“Och, aye? So, if I were to kiss ye now, ye would stop me, is that what ye are tellin’ me?”
Her eyes darted to the door as though she meant to escape, but her breasts were heaving, lust banked in her eyes. Callum’s heart began to pound in his chest.
I can smell the wild heather again. That scent is enough to drive me mad.
He pushed against her, pressing her body against the wall as her hand fell from her robe, her palms flattening against the stone behind as he trapped her there with his hips.
Slowly, Callum brought his hand up and took hold of her chin, lifting her chin to look at him. He waited until their gazes locked and held.
“Would ye scream and pull away?” his voice was a rumble now. “Or would ye lean into me touch as a good little wife should?”
A tiny hand gripped his wrist, her fingers barely able to grip it as her mouth parted on a low moan that set Callum’s whole body on fire.
“My Laird,” she whispered. “Please.”
He didn’t know what she was begging for; he just knew in that moment that he had to taste her.
With a growl at the base of his throat, Callum bent his head and captured her mouth with his own in a desperate, wild kiss.
CHAPTER 8
Lydia’swhole body melted into him as she felt his lips touch hers. The feel of them was shocking, intimate, and unexpected.
At first, it was only that, their mouths meeting, almost gently, and then the Laird pulled back, watching her as if to gauge her reaction.
When she made no move to pull away, he gave a low moan and crushed their lips together once more.
Lydia’s mouth parted on a sigh of pleasure, and then his tongue thrust inside.
She shivered, her body going limp as his hands came up to the back of her neck. His tongue caressed hers, commanding, uncompromising, and urgent.
There was a desperation about him as his body pressed into her, and she let out a shocked cry as his hands skimmed down her waist and came to rest against the back of her thighs.
She jolted forward as he gripped them painfully tight, thrusting into her body, hard and demanding. She could feel the length of him through his kilt, the shape wicked and shocking as she gasped into his mouth.
With a long growl of pleasure, the hands that had been resting on her thighs moved, lifting her up the wall, pulling their bodies together as her legs wound around his waist.
