Highland Burn by Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple

Author:Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: scottish romance, Highlander romance, historical highlander romance, arranged marriage, historical scottish romance, historical romance, steamy historical romance
Publisher: Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
Published: 2022-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Blair hadn’t known that intimacy with a man could be so complete, so fulfilling. Somehow, they had managed to put their pasts behind them, or at least to the side, when she and Reade were together. In the past, when her husband had taken her to bed, it had been quick, sometimes painful, and he never made her feel as if he cared for her at all. And never did she feel, well, anything. Yet, to feel the sensations that Reade drew from her body as a piper drew notes from a bagpipe? That such an explosion of pure ecstasy happened to her body? And he knew exactly how to make that happen for her? Oh, that such feelings existed!

Whenever her mind touched on the memory of bedding Reade, Blair grew dizzy, and a thrilling quiver rose from between her legs up through her breasts. Her nipples hardened at any mere reminder, as her body was always ready to welcome him inside her.

She had taken to walking around the keep in a daze, missing much of the giggling and secretive smiles from Adaira and the housemaids. Even Sorcha’s smile seemed wider whenever she greeted Blair, and impossibly wider still when her gaze fell upon Reade and Blair at the evening meal where they stole glances and his hands roamed over her legs and waist under the table. Sorcha was too refined to comment, but from her expression, ‘twas obvious she knew Reade and Blair were finally pleased with each other in their chambers.

If Reade came upon Blair in the hallway, he’d crush her in his embrace, caress her lips with his, and guide her toward either their chambers or the nearest darkened alcove to find release with her, his hand covering her mouth so her cries of calling his name didn’t echo amongst the stone keep.

And mornings were as full of passion as the evenings. Just that morning, Reade had woken with a cockstand in the wee hours, more than ready for her. Yet he took his time with her, running his fingertips over her skin, tracing the faded white stripling of her scars, rubbing at the base of her neck and her scalp until she was awake and mewling in his arms. Only then did his fingers slip lower, between the petals of her womanhood, and find the magical places on her body – a small nub he skillfully tweaked – and rubbed it until her head had thrown against his chest and she arched her back.

Her bare buttocks curved into his hips, toying with his stiff, fiery rod. She had gasped with surprise when he shifted to push his manhood between her thighs from behind. With his strong arm around her waist, he gyrated his hips, easing his cock in and out of her weeping sheath as he worked her nub.

Blair had gasped and moaned and curled her fingers into anything she could hold onto – the bedding, his hips, his arm – anything to ground her as her mind and body spun out of control.

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