Page 38 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
She sucked in a breath as his hand moved to her lower back and pulled her roughly against him.
“Is that so?” he asked, watching her green eyes smolder just as they had on the moorlands.
“Let go of me,” she said darkly.
“Nay, I dinnae think I will.” He rolled his hips against hers, and she bit her lip. “I think ye deserve to be punished for interruptin’ me council meetin’ and givin’ yer opinions when nay one asked for them.”
Her hand shot out as though to strike him, but Adam was quicker. His fingers gripped her wrist, and he secured both her arms behind her. She was balanced precariously, relying on his strength to remain upright.
He looked down at her, desire thrumming in his veins. “Ye dinnae think ye should be punished?” he asked, pushing his hips forward again as she closed her eyes.
She was panting beneath him now, her body quivering with tension.
“Are ye honestly tellin’ me ye dinnae want me, lass? I can feel ye tremblin’ in me arms.”
“I will never want ye.”
“Nay. Just like ye didnae want me in the gardens?” he asked.
He released her wrists, and with a startled cry, she fell back against the table. His hand came up to cushion her fall and rested beneath her head.
She was sprawled before him, gazing up at him with wild confusion, and he groaned as he lowered himself over her body. Emily’s hands came down beside her hips, trying to pull away, but he put his other hand on her waist, keeping her in place.
Her eyes fluttered as the heat of surrender overtook them, and he stroked his hand over her waist and down the folds of her dress to the apex of her thighs. Even with yards of fabric between them, she hissed in a breath as he touched her there but did not pull away.
“Ye are a sight to behold when ye fight me,” he murmured, lowering himself further, his fingers massaging her as he kissed the swell of her breasts.
She moaned weakly as her fingers tangled in his hair.
Keeping his hand where it was, he pushed further against her as her hips came up, and he took her mouth in a searing kiss. On a soul-deep groan, he thrust his tongue into her sweet heat, and she opened for him, moaning into the kiss, her hands still in his hair.
The same deep satisfaction flooded through him as she surrendered entirely, her body becoming pliant and needy in his arms.
He pulled back, looking down at her lustful gaze. “I cannae get enough of ye.”
But just as quickly as his arousal grew to a fever pitch, her eyes darkened and she shoved him away, awkwardly jumping down from the table. She gathered herself, righting her clothing and glaring at him angrily.
“I hope ye ken what ye are doin’,M’Laird,”she bit out. “One minute I have nay place here, and the next ye cannae get enough of me? I thought as leader of this clan, ye were supposed to inspire trust and respect in yer people. Right now, I have seen evidence of neither.”
Adam was about to reach for her again and give her a piece of his mind when she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.
And now ye’ve enraged the only asset ye have left against Stewart, ye blitherin’ fool.
14
Emily stormed out of the hall and walked swiftly back up to her room. She wanted to rip all the banners from the walls as she passed them.
What was most infuriating about their exchange was that she felt a familiar pulse of heat between her legs, just as she had in the gardens. His hands on her body had set her skin on fire. She had wanted to lean into his every touch and beg for more. Even—especially—when he had her pinned against the table.
It was infuriating. She knew he had only done it to provoke her and was even more furious that it had worked.
Perhaps I shouldnae have spoken out in the meetin’, but he wasnae goin’ to get the truth out of that bunch of old men.
As she continued on her way, she realized she had inadvertently taken a wrong turn. She found herself in a long pale corridor with suits of armor set up at intervals along its length.
The ceilings were high and pale, with ornate paintings running down the columns at the sides, but she had no idea where she was.
Emily was startled as a figure rose from a bench down the corridor and Theodore Wells walked toward her, putting his spectacles away as he nodded to her, a book held in his hand.
