Page 24 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
Freya leaned back in the chair, trying to appear unaffected, but her heart was thundering in her chest. She watched as he started toward her, his movements slow and deliberate, like a hunter stalking its prey. She swallowed hard and turned her focus back to the book, in an attempt to appear nonchalant.
But she felt him. Every inch of his presence drew her attention as he closed the distance between them. When she finally dared to glance back up, she almost gasped. There was something different in his eyes—displeasure, certainly, but also something else. Something dark and intriguing.
“Do ye remember what I said I’d do if ye disobeyed me?”
A shiver ran down her spine. “Ye said ye’d punish me, but?—”
Before she could finish, his hand moved, his fingertips pressed against her lips to silence her. His touch was firm.
Freya’s breath hitched at the unexpected contact, her eyes widening as her pulse raced.
“That is exactly what I’m plannin’ to do,” he growled.
Before she could think, let alone speak, he gripped her by the arm and pulled her to her feet.The Canterbury Talestumbled to the floor between them, but if Doughall cared, he did not show it.
Freya’s chest heaved, her body betraying her resolve as heat flooded her face, neck, and chest. She knew she should push himaway, should resist, but something inside her crumbled under the weight of his touch and gaze.
Doughall’s other hand moved swiftly, capturing both her wrists. In one smooth motion, he pulled her hands above her head and pushed himself against her. Freya stumbled backward but remained upright, at least. Her back hit the bookshelf behind her, her hands pinned to a row of leatherbound spines.
There was nowhere for her to go.
“Tell me, Freya,” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. Her toes curled at the heat of his mouth, at the feeling that stirred somewhere deep within her. “Will ye disobey me again?”
She closed her eyes, her mind screaming at her to put an end to this. But her body was screaming something entirely different, something animalistic and needy. Heat pooled in her belly as his fingers tightened around her wrists, and when his lips brushed her neck, she couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips.
“Answer me,” he growled, his teeth grazing her skin.
Her mind went blank, consumed by nothing but the feel of his mouth against her throat. She hated him for making her feel this way, hated the fire that he ignited within her. If this was her punishment for disobeying, she might never heed a word he said ever again.
“I dinnae ken,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He bit her, coaxing a soft moan from her lips, and she cursed herself for it. But Doughall did not relent. His lips trailed down her neck as his hand slid down her wrists painstakingly slowly, only for his fingers to brush her collarbone. She lowered her hands to her sides as she tilted her chin up, savoring the feeling.
“Good lass,” he whispered against her skin, his hand now on her waist. “Because if ye disobey me again…” His hand slid down her stomach, then lower, moving with agonizing slowness over her gown. “There will be consequences.”
Freya gasped as his fingers brushed the curve of her hip, her mind spinning, torn between wanting to resist and surrendering to the undeniable desire that was consuming her. She wanted more, she wanted to demand more.
Doughall’s lips feather over her jaw, coming closer and closer to her mouth. Freya willed it, silently urging him and hating him in equal measure, but she felt she might explode if he did not kiss her. He seemed to know, pausing an inch away from her mouth, his hot breath tingling her skin.
Does he want me to ask for it? I willnae.
His hand slid up her throat, not squeezing just holding, until her head was pressed against the book spines. She understood then; he was keeping her in place so she could not take what she desired.
With a deep growl, as if he resented the position that she had put him in, his lips finally crashed against hers. A ferocious,ravenous kiss, his mouth catching hers again and again, growing more insistent… as if her lack of response irritated him.
I’m bein’ disobedient again.
She kissed him back, uncertain of herself but following his lead. Instinct made itself known, that fire in her belly an unexpectedly wise teacher. She melted against him, kissed him hard as if it was a battle she had to win. But when she tried to touch him, to let her hands wander, he caught her wrists and pinned them over her head again.
Breathless and overwhelmed, she bucked against him, frustrated in the most delicious way that she could not touch him as she pleased. His hand dropped from her throat and rested on her hip again, his grip fierce, pushing her back so her buttocks were pinned to the bookcase. Clearly,thatwas forbidden too.
But with each little test of the waters, his mouth became hungrier, more demanding, his tongue invading her mouth, dancing with hers.
When he suddenly pulled back, she almost begged him to continue.
Breathless and dazed, her eyes searched his for something—anything to show just how he felt at that moment. But the face looking back at her was one made of stone, carved into an expressionless visage with cold eyes.
“Doughall?” she whispered, confusion creasing her brow.
