Page 83 of Desiring the Highland Laird
Well, now. How could she possibly refuse that? She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the curves of the strong muscles there. She encircled his neck, pulling him closer to her. Her mouth was a breath away from his.
“I believe that,” she said on a whisper. Then she demanded something she had never demanded of any man. It was a risk, she knew, but she wanted to say it because she felt she had nothing left to lose. “Now, take me to bed, you handsome Scot.”
He grinned. “As my lady commands.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Callum shed thetartan he was wearing and tossed it on the chair by the hearth. Then he removed his boots and breeches, kicking them aside. He remained standing in front of her in a long linen tunic. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he heard.
Unsure of his expectations, she did the first thing that came to mind. She lifted one leg, knee bent, and reached under to untie the strip of material that held up her stockings. Before she could finish, he moved toward her, sliding his hand under the bend of her knee.
Her hands froze as he slid up and over one knee to the edge of her wool stocking. Then he tugged, ever so gently, as he pulled it down over her knee and the length of her leg. His roughened palm sent deep shivers of desire through her as he pulled away the stocking, dropping it to the floor.
Swallowing hard, she lifted her other leg to allow him to perform the same task. It was as though he were a master at untying the little piece of cloth at the top of her thigh without looking. Then he slid the stocking down over her leg and off.
That was probably the most erotic thing that had ever happened to her. Should she confess she still wore her modern day undergarments? What would he think of that?
She didn’t wait for him to move. She gathered the shift in her hands and pulled it off over her head, tossing it away. That deep blue-eyed gaze traveled over her cloth-covered breasts and hips with question and curiosity.
“It’s what the ladies wear underneath where I come from,” she said. Her voice wobbled with her nerves.
A dark brow lifted in bemusement. With shaking hands, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, then let the material slide down the length of her arms to the floor. Despite the warmth of the fire blazing brightly in the hearth, there was a chill in the air.
Callum’s appreciative gaze was on her as he reached for her. His hands were in her hair, his fingers running through the long length and then letting the strands slide between his fingers in a fiery red waterfall.
“Och, I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw ye.”
Gooseflesh erupted along every inch of her as her nipples hardened with an aching need when they brushed against the linen of his shirt. He bent to kiss her neck, his lips warm and soft. Flames of desire pounded through her.
With a tentative touch, she slipped her hands under his long tunic and was delighted to land on the roundness of his buttocks. A deep guttural groan of appreciation rumbled through his chest. She grinned as she moved upward. His skin was hot and smooth as her fingers traveled over the curve of his back.
He was perfection.
And she was impatient. She pushed the linen up in a move that indicated she wanted it off him. He complied, pulling the material over his head and tossing it to the floor with her shift. He was naked before her in all his glory.
There was a sprinkling of dark hair across his broad, muscular chest. His shoulders and biceps were thick and strong. Her hands landed on his upper arms, feeling the power there as he tensed.
His hand landed on the material between her legs as though testing her. She shivered against him.
“Should I remove that?” she asked. She glanced up at him, looking at him through her lashes and feeling a shyness she hadn’t felt before.
“I will.”
He flashed a wicked grin as he dropped to his knees, pulling down the material with him. She stepped out of it and kicked it aside, self-conscious and aware of the cool air brushing her bare skin. She crossed her arms over her breasts to conceal them. When he saw her do it, he reached for her, his hands landing on her wrists and tugging them away.
“Dinnae cover yerself, lass.”
“But, I—”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “Nay.”
He slipped his hands over the swell of her breasts, making the throbbing between her legs increase tenfold. God, if he didn’t hurry, she was going to explode.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she tugged him closer as she backed toward the bed once more and then melted against the feather mattress, taking him with her. He grunted once as he caught himself before landing on top of her—much to her dismay.
But then he tucked his shoulders under the bend of her legs and leaned down to taste her. She sucked in a sharp breath as soon as his mouth was on her, teasing that sensitive swollen nub that held all her secrets. He coaxed her to climax immediately. She clenched her jaw tight to keep from crying out with the pleasure. She clutched the linen bedsheets in her fists as he continued the onslaught.
When she thought she might die of sheer pleasure, he kissed his way upward from navel to neck and then slid his heated, hard body on top of her, pushing her upward onto the bed with a leverage she hadn’t known he’d had.
