Highland Awakening Read Free

since he had encountered an innocent. And he’d never encountered an innocent who intrigued him like this one did.
    He curved his lips, knowing his smile was a feral, hungry one. But he didn’t care. “Do you think I’ll be kissing you now, Esme?”
    She didn’t break her gaze away from his. “I…I don’t know.”
    He leaned forward, until he could feel her quick breaths puff over his cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you? Are your lips tingling with the anticipation of mine pressing against them?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, her voice a mere tremble.
    “Good. Because I want a taste.”
    Her breath caught audibly, a small choke. He didn’t let her think about it for another instant. He hauled her into his arms and slammed his lips down upon hers.

Chapter 2
    Oh. Dear. God.
    Lady Esme Hawkins’s muscles had transformed into putty. She knew what she should do. What a lady who was able to function properly in society
would
do.
    Gasp. Yank away. Scream. Run. Slap him,
hard,
across the face.
    But she could do none of those things. Because she was putty…
melted
putty, and her body had molded to his. Her hands moved against the wool of his coat, and her fingers curled into it, holding on, because if she didn’t hold on, she’d faint, fall to the floor, float away on this tide of…
what?
    Desire.
    Yes, that was what it was. This man—Mr. McLeod, Mrs. Trickelbank had called him—was so beautiful. Jet-black hair, tall and broad, with thick muscles apparent beneath his form-fitting coat. He wore a pleated kilt of blue-and-green tartan—she’d always found kilts and the Scots who wore them intriguing—and high, dark brown leather boots. His eyes were a shocking blue—she hadn’t known it was possible for a man to be so dark and yet possess such piercing, light-colored eyes.
    And the way those eyes had studied her, as if she was the most fascinating person in the world…Nobody ever looked at her like that. And to have this beautiful man gaze at her as if she were an object of desire…Lord, but that was a heady experience indeed. His gaze had bored under her skin, through her blood, and into her bones until she was a shaking mass of tingling nerves.
    His lips moved against hers in a firm, sensual stroke. Possessive. Dominating. As if through this kiss he was claiming her as his own. She had no choice but to submit. She
wanted
to submit.
    His lips nudged her mouth open. She gasped, and he swallowed the sound. His tongue grazed her top teeth, and she tentatively swiped her own tongue against his. The wet heat of their touching tongues sent a deep shudder through her. His hands glided up her sides until one of them cupped her breast and his thumb rolled the tip. Through all the layers of material, her nipple beaded, became a hard, aching, sensitive point.
    “Oh!” she whispered into his mouth, arching toward him. Her body had a mind of its own, and she gave it free rein. She had no choice. Reality nudged at the back of her mind, but he had overwhelmed her senses. At some point she’d released his coat and had wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingertips moving up the powerful cords of muscle at the back of his neck and diving into the silky softness of his black hair.
    His arm slid around her lower back, pulling her tight against his hard body, and she came willingly, pressing ever closer.
    Desire. Lust. Need.
    She knew she was capable of these sensations—that they were an intrinsic part of her. But knowing something existed within her and having it brought to life by a man’s touch were completely different things. She’d never expected this. She’d never believed it would come to pass. She’d always expected her sensual nature to remain firmly locked away from the world, only to be daydreamed about and later expressed in her stories…
    Her stories!
    Gasping, she jerked back, wrenching herself from the lock of his arm. His hand fell from her breast. His lips parted from hers.
    Oh God.
    Sweat broke out