Devil of the Highlands Page 0,9

began to move then, releasing the hold he'd kept on her head and sliding down her back until they slid over her bottom. Clasping the curve of each cheek, he lifted her off her feet and pressed her against him.

Evelinde groaned into his mouth as a hardness ground against the apex of her thighs through their clothes. It sent a sharp new excitement shooting through her, and she found herself shifting her hips and tightening her arms around his neck as she tried to get closer still.

When he suddenly broke their kiss, she moaned in disappointment, but when he then reclaimed his seat on the fallen log and tugged her forward to tumble into his lap, some of her common sense resurfaced.

"Oh, nay, sir! We should not be doing this. I am betrothed to the Devil of Donnachaidh."

Evelinde had expected that to bring an abrupt halt to the proceedings, but the man merely muttered, "I am the Duncan and would have a kiss."

His mouth descended on hers again, and Evelinde gave up her feeble struggles. One kiss did not seem so bad, she thought, as his tongue invaded her again, resurrecting her excitement. At least she would have these memories to warm her in her cold marriage bed, she thought, then—conscience soothed—Evelinde stopped thinking and allowed herself to enjoy his kiss.

It was much nicer sitting in his lap. She was surrounded by him, cocooned by the hard lap beneath her and the warm chest and arms around her. Relaxing against the arm at her back, she slid her own arms around his neck again, careful to avoid the sore spot on the back of his head as she kissed him enthusiastically. Evelinde shuddered and pressed against him as his hands slid over her back, and then gasped and arched as his hand moved around to find and clasp one breast through her damp chemise. Clutching at the cloth of his plaid, Evelinde groaned into his mouth and held on for dear life as he kneaded the round orb, and she was inundated by a whole new swell of sensations.

When his thumb brushed over the excited nipple through the cloth, it sent shocks of pleasure through her, and she couldn't keep from wiggling in his lap. Her hips moved of their own volition as they ground her bottom down against the hardness under her.

This seemed to have an electrifying effect on the Duncan, his kiss immediately became more demanding. The hand at her back shifted to her head to tilt her one way, then the other as the fingers at her breast tightened and began to pluck at her nipple through the quickly drying cloth.

This time Evelinde turned her head to give him better access when his mouth moved to her ear once more. His attention there soon had her gasping and moaning. Other than to dig her fingers more firmly into his shoulders, she hardly noticed when he leaned her back against his arm so his mouth could travel down her neck. His hand was still doing delightful things to first one breast, then the other, and that, combined with his lips nibbling over the flesh of her throat, had her giving one long, seemingly unending moan. By the time he reached the shockingly sensitive area of her collarbone, she was a mass of excitement, wiggling in his lap in response to the liquid heat now pooling in her lower belly.

So distracted was she, Evelinde didn't realize he had tugged aside the top of her chemise, revealing one breast, until his lips suddenly left her collarbone and dipped to close over the naked nipple.

She cried out then with both shock and excitement and tugged frantically at his plaid as he suckled and drew on the nipple, his tongue flicking over it repeatedly.

Evelinde knew she shouldn't be allowing this. She was betrothed to someone else. Even if she hadn't been, however, as an unmarried lady, she shouldn't be allowing it… but it felt so good. And really, if she was going to be married off to the Devil of Donnachaidh and left to wither away in misery, or possibly beaten to death by the man, it did seem less of a sin to allow herself the momentary pleasure of a kiss or two.

Besides, it was the most amazing thing she had yet experienced in her life. Evelinde had never felt so… alive. She was afire with passions she'd never even imagined existed, her body reacting of its own volition as it