Highlander Unchained Read online

  When he began to caress her breasts with his big rough hands, she lost all coherent thought. He pinched her nipples lightly between his fingers, and heat spread between her legs.

  Scooping up her breasts with his hands, he sank his face into her, nuzzling her skin with the scratch of his beard. God, it was amazing. His mouth was hot and wet as he kissed her nakedness, sliding his tongue achingly close to the very tip of her. Her nipples throbbed, aching for the soft press of his mouth.

  She moaned when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

  “Do you like that?” he asked softly.

  She arched against him.

  “God, you’re hot,” he groaned. “So lush and responsive.” And then he was sucking her, his tongue circling the hard tip as he took her nipple deep into the warm recesses of his mouth. A cry of pure pleasure escaped from between her lips as a needle of white hot heat surged through her.

  Her body was on fire. She was pressing against him, moving, unable to release the building tension. Wanting more. Wanting the friction of his body. Frantically, her hands roamed over his back and her hips circled against him.

  She felt the change. Felt as he succumbed to the heat. He sucked her harder, using his teeth to gently nibble and pull as his hands moved over her bottom and down her leg with clear purpose. He was done teasing. Done talking. He wanted this as badly as she did.

  His hand was under her skirt, sliding up her leg as he increased the pressure on her breast, laving her with his tongue and sucking her deep and hard. The warm spot between her legs began to clench.

  She didn’t understand what was happening, her body felt so strange. She was trembling and quivering all over. His fingers skimmed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She tensed, embarrassed by the sudden gush of dampness near his hand. She tried to close her legs, but he stopped her with a stroke, the barest graze of his finger against her core.

  She froze in shock and wonder.

  “Don’t be frightened,” he said soothingly, lifting his head from her breast. “I promise this will feel good.”

  His finger reached out to sweep against her again, this time lingering to cup her and massage her gently. What was he doing? And why did it feel so incredible? No one ever told her it would be like this. So warm and silky and overwhelming. Her shock abated as she succumbed to sensation. Wallowing in the wet heat building where he touched.

  Sensing her surrender, he caught her lips with his, sliding his tongue in her mouth just as his finger slid inside her. Oh God, it was perfect. She’d never felt so wanton, so free. He was cupping her, his finger sliding in and out, faster and faster, until her hips started moving against his hand. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind focused on the pulse between her legs that was concentrating and building in intensity. She was frantic, writhing against him. Something magical beckoned just out of reach. She wanted desperately to leap, but something was holding her back.

  A knock on the door shattered the fragile moment like glass. The flood of heat turned to shards of ice.

  He swore, stepped back from her, and struggled to control the primal lust she saw raging in his gaze. Every inch of his body seemed tense and rigid. No man had ever looked at her with such raw desire. She felt as though she’d unleashed a lion, a lion that would not be tamed. A twinge of unease fluttered in her chest.

  What had she almost done? The truth hit her hard. The ramifications of what had nearly happened poured down on her in an unforgiving deluge. She’d almost given herself to him. Her captor. The man who intended to use her for his own ends.

  But it had seemed so right.

  Flora moved to the other side of the room, trying to get as far away from him as possible, and adjusted her gown as quickly as she could manage with shaking fingers, giving thanks that the simple gown could be easily slipped back over her shoulders and tied at the front. But there was little she could do about her swollen lips and mussed hair.

  In a rough voice, Lachlan bade the intruder—or perhaps her savior—enter.

  The door opened, and she recognized the man who entered as one of the laird’s young guardsmen. His gaze flickered between the two of them cautiously. Flora’s cheeks heated as she realized he’d guessed what he’d interrupted. No doubt she looked as if she’d just been ravished—which she had. Nearly, anyway.

  After a heavy pause, he cleared his throat and spoke. “My laird, I’m sorry to disturb you. But it’s important.”

  The change that came over Lachlan was instantaneous: All vestiges of passion disappeared, and his expression was once again hard and impenetrable. Remote. The air of invincibility once again surrounded him, and too easily, she’d been forgotten. She felt a hard pang in her chest. The commanding chief had returned with a transformation so complete, it shook her.

  “What is it?” he asked in clipped tones.

  “A letter, my laird.” The messenger gave Flora an uneasy glance. “From Duart.”

  Chapter 8

  Flora’s heart plummeted to the floor. She couldn’t breathe. Here it was, the response she’d been waiting for. Dread crashed over her. Not because she feared that Hector would not exchange her, but because she feared he would. Would Lachlan let her go? Would he trade her for his castle?

  Her pulse raced as she awaited the answer.

  Wrapped in her own jumble of emotions, she almost missed the fleeting look of surprise on Lachlan’s face. He took the missive from the man, broke the seal, glanced at it briefly, and slid it in his leather sporran. His eyes turned black and cold as onyx. Clearly, something had angered him.

  “That will be all,” he said, dismissing the guardsman, who, from the awkward way he shuffled his feet, obviously couldn’t wait to leave.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, Flora turned to him. Fists clenched at her side, she took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. “What does it say?”

  His jaw clenched forbiddingly. “We will discuss it later.”

  There could be only one explanation for his anger. “Hector refused?”

  The look he shot her made her take a step back. His expression was as fierce as she’d ever seen it. He’d never looked at her with something akin to…resentment. “I said not now. Return to your chamber”—his hard gaze fell to her breasts and then lowered—“unless you’d care to resume where we left off?”

  She flinched, his words as effective as a slap. The crude taunt after the intimacies they’d just shared stung. Something was wrong. Why was he lashing out at her like this? She’d thought him hard and forbidding, perhaps even ruthless, but never cruel. Was it something Hector had said? A lump settled low in her belly. Or had she done something wrong?

  Mouth trembling, she stood her ground. “Why are you treating me like this? I deserve to know. Tell me what the letter says.”

  Hard blue eyes bored into her. There was something raw in his gaze that made her heart tug. She made a movement toward him and then stopped self-consciously. His shoulders were so stiff, she yearned to put her hands on him and rub away the tension from the thick slabs of muscle. Only moments ago she’d been in his arms, and now he seemed untouchable. An insurmountable fortress had sprung up between them; she wondered if she’d only imagined the moments of intimacy.

  “Please,” she urged.

  He stared at her for a long moment, looking as if he were going to explode in rage; then, inexplicably, the fight seemed to leave him. “Damn you,” he swore.

  She reached for him then, placing her hand on his chest, feeling the tension under her palm. “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice sounded oddly hollow.

  Her brows furrowed. She didn’t understand. She’d seen him open it. “But why…?”

  All of a sudden, it hit her. He couldn’t read it. She nearly sighed with relief. He wasn’t angry with her. But he’d wanted to hide it from her. God, did he think she would ridicule him? She cringed inwardly, realizing that she might have—at one time. But not now. Not since she’d grown to know him. And respect