Page 65 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
With a smirk, Hunter reached down, pulling a thick, warm blanket from his saddlebag and spreading it out on the soft grass beneath them.
The world around them seemed to still, the breeze whispering through the trees, and the meadow bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon. It was as if the very land itself had conspired to give them this moment—a moment where the world fell away, leaving only the two of them.
"Let us take a moment ourselves, lass. We've waited too long," he said.
As Cassandra knelt on the blanket, her heart raced in anticipation, her pulse quickening as Hunter joined her.
His presence was magnetic, his broad shoulders and powerful frame a stark contrast to the softness of the meadow around them.
He reached for her, his strong hands gently cupping her face, tilting her head to meet his lips with an intensity that stole her breath away. The kiss was immediate, deep, and filled with a raw need, his lips pressing against hers with a fervor that left no doubt in her mind of the desire he felt.
Her hands trembled as they reached for him, sliding up his chest to the hard planes of his muscles. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips sent a shiver through her, and she couldn’t resist the urge to feel more of him. Her fingers traced the taut lines of his six-pack abs, marveling at the strength and power beneath his tunic.
His body, honed through years of hard work and battle, was a map of masculine strength, and she longed to explore every inch of it.
Hunter groaned softly as her hands moved lower, her touch igniting a fire in him that burned hotter with every second. His lips left hers only for a moment, his breathing ragged as he looked into her eyes, his voice a low rasp.
“Cassandra, ye’ve nay idea what waitin’ this long has done to me,” he whispered, his hands sliding down her back, pulling her closer to him. The heat between them was unbearable, the air thick with the tension of what was to come.
She gazed up at him, her heart pounding in her chest, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers.
"Show me then," she whispered.
The strength of his arms, the power in his chest, and the solidness of his body against hers made her pulse spike with a want that she could no longer ignore.
The desire swirling between them was like a storm, impossible to contain, and she found herself pulling him closer, hungry for more.
"Aye, I'll show ye," he groaned.
His lips found hers again, urgent and demanding, as though he could no longer hold back.
She pressed herself closer to him, her breath coming faster as his hands slid under her dress, caressing the soft skin of her legs, sending sparks of electricity through her body. Every touch, every kiss, every movement was a promise—a promise of the passion that was building between them, unstoppable and undeniable.
His hand cupped her between her thighs. She responded with a moan.
"Tis that showin’ ye?" he asked.
"Yes,” she whispered.
His hand moved back and forth rubbing her. Even though there was a layer of material between his hand and her skin, she could feel the heat gathering between her thighs. The tingling shot through her.
Hunter’s lips moved from her mouth to her neck, kissing her softly, before he began to trail a line of fire along her skin.
Cassandra gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer, wanting more. She felt as if she was being pulled into a whirlwind of sensation, each moment intensifying the craving she had for him.
His hand moved from under her skirt to her belly. It roamed up her body, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress, his touch both gentle and demanding.
The warmth of his palms against her made her gasp, and she arched into him, her body responding to him in ways she had never imagined.
“Hunter…” she breathed, her voice a soft, desperate whisper as she leaned back, pulling him on top of her. The feel of his bodypressing against hers, his weight comforting and yet electrifying, was all she needed to surrender completely to the passion burning between them.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue brushing against hers in a slow, deliberate exploration that made her head spin. His hands were everywhere, caressing, gripping, teasing—leaving no part of her untouched.
And when he pulled away, just for a moment, to look down at her with dark, lust-filled eyes, she knew that this was only the beginning of something they both craved.
“Cassandra,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need, “I want ye. I cannae wait any longer. Do ye surrender to me?"
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Cassandra’s heart thudded in her chest as she realized that this was it—that moment when they would no longer be able to resist. The desire between them had reached its peak, and there was nothing left to do but to give in to it completely.
