Page 64

“How I want ye, Isla.” His voice was low. “I daenae want to stop.”

“Then daenae.”

Alisdair erupted like a gale sweeping the dark loch. His large hand rose and curled into the hair at the nape of her neck. Then he crushed his lips to hers.

It was a desperate kiss, one that held no restraint, no regret. His arm tightened around her, pressing her against the solid wall of his chest.

His tongue probed her lips, demanding access, and she met him with fervor. As if he had been starving and now finally found sustenance, he devoured her, unleashing all his pent-up lust. Isla welcomed it, holding on to him, a soft moan escaping her mouth.

His hands curled around her waist, and he turned them. The back of her thighs hit the desk as the kiss deepened. He angled her head so that he could taste her better, then swept his massive arm across the desk, sending every paper and map to the floor. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, panting.

“Tell me to stop, Isla.”

Isla braced both hands on the desk, leaning back.

“Do ye want me to stop?”

She shook her head, a smile curving her lips.

Alisdair leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. “Use yer words, Isla.”

Isla felt heat pool between her legs. Her eyes closed as he took her earlobe between his teeth.

“I daenae want ye to stop,” she breathed.

His response was a low growl that fanned the flames of her desire. Pressure coiled low in her belly.

Alisdair slid his arms beneath her thighs, lifted her onto the desk, and stepped between her legs.

“I daenae want to stop either,” he murmured against her skin.

His mouth moved down her neck slowly, lips branding each inch. She dug her nails into the wood, trying to anchor herself, but it was not enough. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head back to give him better access.

“I tried so hard,” he said. “So hard to resist ye.”

His tongue darted out and tasted the spot behind her ear, making her toes curl. Her fingers slid into his hair, keeping him there.

A low chuckle vibrated against her. “Ye like that, Isla?”

“Mmm,” was all she could muster.

“Words, Isla,” he urged, nipping her skin.

“Alisdair,” she moaned.

“Aye.”

He looked up at her. The need in his eyes floored her. If she had any resistance left, it crumbled.

The corner of his mouth lifted, and he leaned in. He kissed her slowly, unbearably slow, the stroke of his tongue agonizingly deliberate. Then he broke the kiss and trailed his lips along the line of her jaw, down to her neck, and across her collarbone.

His hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer, before he undid the brooch that kept her arisaid in place. The fabric fell on the floor with a soft thud. His fingers lingered on her shoulders, the tips teasing the skin there.

“I want to touch ye, Isla.”

“And I want to be touched,” she admitted.

They kissed again as his fingers fought with the laces of her bodice. One forceful tug, and the bodice fell open. He broke the kiss and looked down at the loose neckline of her shift. His hands slid up to her ribs and stopped right under her breasts, feeling their weight. He lowered his mouth to her collarbone, trailing kisses along it, before moving down to her chest.