The Highlander Who Loved Me (Highland Hearts #1)

He swept her into his arms and placed her gently upon the bed. In all his years, he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Johanna, her eyes wide with anticipation, her hair splayed over the pillow, her lips parted just enough to entice him with her sweet, rosy tongue.

He prowled over her, anointing her lovely body with kisses as he went. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he gazed down at her face. Like the richest of sapphires, those eyes of hers. What would he give to awaken to that soft, tempting smile every morning of his life? To drift off to sleep with Johanna in his arms, the scent of their passion filling the air? To hear soft murmurs on her breath every time he stripped her bare and she lost herself in passion.

One night would not be enough to ease the ache in him, to appease the hunger for Johanna that filled his body and soul. The reality was like a blow. But in the all-too-fleeting hours they’d have together, he’d learn her body. The curve of her face. The scent of her skin. The silk of her hair between his fingers.

He’d never forget the taste of her kiss. Not if he lived to be as old as Uncle Archie plus a score.

Her tender flesh pebbled and strained for his attention. Taking a pert nipple between his lips, he teased and caressed and adored her. Ah, yes, darling lass. Welcome my kiss. My love.

Love. The word was such a simple one. Yet it slammed into him like a claymore. For so long, he’d scoffed at such sentiment. Despite her rational nature, his sister gobbled up novels with lovestruck fools as heroes as readily as she digested her scientific texts. Love was a key to the universe, or so Serena had said. He’d dismissed her words as drivel. Could it be that she was right, that love was real?

And like a smitten fool, he’d fallen into its snare.

He had this night. And only this night. God knew it wouldn’t be enough. But he’d bring Johanna pleasure. He’d show her what was in his heart, even if poetic words weighted his tongue like lead blocks.

His hand cupped one breast as he lavished attention on the other with his mouth. She arched her back, taking the bliss he offered with an abandon that stirred his desire to a fever pitch.

Beautiful. Johanna was so lovely. Her face. Her supple curves. Her spirit. He didn’t deserve her. Not even for this moment. How had he been so blessed?

His cock throbbed. Urgent. Needing her warmth. But not yet.

He kissed her as his hand snaked between her soft thighs. Ah, the way she responded to his touch. There was no pretense in her actions. No coy seduction. Simply desire. She wanted him. What a bluidy wonderful thing that was.

With one finger, then another, he explored her warmth. She was ready. But that wasn’t enough. She would be mad with need before he sheathed himself within her.

Seeking and finding the spot that made her moan, he caressed the sensitive nub of flesh. Tiny circles. Tender. Gentle. Coaxing her to respond to his touch.

Sweeping kisses over her breasts, over her velvet flesh, he smiled to himself. How delicious she would taste, his lovely lass. How he longed to feel her body beg for his caress with each desperate cant of her hips. Ah, yes, he’d drive her wild for him. Hot and tight and delicious.

And his.

The thought swelled his heart. Sweet Johanna would be his.

His mouth traced a path along her thighs. She gasped. A little cry wrung from her throat, and she wriggled away.

“This…this isn’t done.” Her voice was an incredulous whisper.

The smile on his mouth broadened. “Let me love ye, Johanna. Ye trust me, do ye not?”

“Of course. It’s only that—”

“Dinnae worry, mo chridhe. You’ll like this.” With tender care, he nipped his teeth against her inner thigh. “I promise.”

With a sigh, she relaxed. Summoning his patience, he readied her for his touch. Feathery sweeps of his fingertips against her female flesh. The most gentle of touches. And then, his lips took the place of his fingers.

Her soft, throaty moans drove him to the brink of madness. Ah, this passion of hers. His body throbbed in anticipation of claiming her, deep and hard and taking her to another level of ecstasy.

She trembled against him. Desperate for his touch. Thirsting for the release he could give her.

“Connor.” Her voice was low and smoky, flavored by her desire.

Pleasure washed over her. He felt it in the shivers of her flesh. The tremors of her taut muscles. The touch of her fingers, threading though his hair.

Another sigh escaped her. Replete with her satisfaction, she watched him. Her eyes were heavy-lidded. She seemed stunned, dazed by the collision of her hunger and his caress.

“You were right,” she whispered, a sly smile curving her mouth. “That was…wicked. And utterly delicious.”

Passion darkened her eyes. She lowered her gaze for the briefest of moments. And then, she reached for him, pulling him close.

Nesting herself against his length, she pressed a kiss to his mouth. “You know what I want, don’t you.”

“Aye, lass.” He drew his fingers along the curve of her cheek simply because he couldn’t resist touching her. Couldn’t resist any opportunity to savor the satin of her skin.

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