Read Online A Stockingful of Joy by Susan King Justine Dare Mary Jo Putney Jill Barnett - Free Book Online Page A
Book: A Stockingful of Joy by Susan King Justine Dare Mary Jo Putney Jill Barnett
Read Free Book Online
Ads: Link
pillows and furs on the narrow bed. His lean, hard body fit against her curves, even through layered wool, and his lips moved over hers in a breathless rhythm. What rushed through her was more heady, more dizzying than the strong drink that still coursed, hot and languid, through her blood.
He drifted his fingers over her cheek, along her neck and shoulder, touching her as if she were fragile. His fingers grazed over her breast and moved downward, pulling her hips toward his. She gasped and tightened her arms around his neck, pressing the length of her body to his. Her heart beat in a fierce cadence, and she sensed the heavy pounding of his heart, too, when her fingers skimmed over his chest.
He traced his lips over her cheek, her ear, along her jaw. Shivers cascaded through her, and she moaned softly, turning to find his lips with her own. She moved against him, craving more of his grazing touches and deep, luscious kisses. She had not known this kind of tenderness existed. All she wanted was to float in its luxury, in its slow, effortless current; no matter where it took her, she knew she would be safe.
Once, Parian had kissed her in a dark corridor at Kilernan, swift, sour wine kisses followed by the heavy thrust of his tongue. She had arched away from him, and slapped him when his large hands rounded boldly over her behind, pulling her hips against the hard swelling beneath his plaid. He had claimed drunkenness; but she had known that, drunk or not, Parian would never be a tender husband.
But this Fraser, a stranger who had no reason to care about her, touched her as if she were made of silk and roses. His kisses were kind and yet strong, surging through her like bursts of flame. No threat, no sense of wrongness spun awry in her gut, as she had felt with Parian. She felt herself relax and sink into the warm ocean of pleasure Kenneth provided with his lips, his hands, his breath.
His hand soothed over her breasts, rousing a shiver of need that spooled deep within her. She felt as if she had found the heart of a fire, and never wanted to leave its comfort.
When he hesitated, as if offering her a chance to stop what grew between them, she let her silence, and the kiss she returned, answer his unspoken question. When he drew the lacings of her bodice loose, when his fingers found her breast, she pulled in a breath. Slipping her hands over his wide, tightly muscled shoulders and chest, she sighed.
His touch, his kisses, roused a sudden swell of joy in her, and she smiled to herself, loving this—loving him. The thought stunned her, and she paused, wrapped in his arms, knowing, in a strange, complete, wordless way, that she was where she belonged.
She sank into the cocoon he provided, and wanted more, anything, all, from him. He glided his lips to her breast, and a deep, thunderous tremor rippled through her, as if strong enough to shake the bed, shake the room—
Kenneth sat up quickly, bolting from the bed with a muttered oath. "The roof! It's close to collapsing!" he yelled. He leaped past the hearth toward the animals.
Bewildered for a moment, Catriona scrambled out of the bed. The walls trembled, and noise and chaos flooded the room. She swept the anxious cat into her arms and watched as the ceiling over the stable area sagged and groaned. The horses and the cow shifted, bumped, and kicked out at the furniture and the walls.
The cow stumbled against the upturned table, which crashed to the ground. Kenneth struggled to pull and push and cajole the three animals to safety across the room. Then the thatched roof above the abandoned corner emitted an unearthly groan, and shivered down in a heap of ice, snow, and straw.
Chapter Seven
« ^ »
"Argh," Kenneth said, leaning back into the recess of the box-bed, "she seems to like me." He held up an arm to protect his face and turned his head, trying to avoid the cow's hot breath as she snuffled sloppily at his hair. Beside him, Catriona laughed with delight. He
He drifted his fingers over her cheek, along her neck and shoulder, touching her as if she were fragile. His fingers grazed over her breast and moved downward, pulling her hips toward his. She gasped and tightened her arms around his neck, pressing the length of her body to his. Her heart beat in a fierce cadence, and she sensed the heavy pounding of his heart, too, when her fingers skimmed over his chest.
He traced his lips over her cheek, her ear, along her jaw. Shivers cascaded through her, and she moaned softly, turning to find his lips with her own. She moved against him, craving more of his grazing touches and deep, luscious kisses. She had not known this kind of tenderness existed. All she wanted was to float in its luxury, in its slow, effortless current; no matter where it took her, she knew she would be safe.
Once, Parian had kissed her in a dark corridor at Kilernan, swift, sour wine kisses followed by the heavy thrust of his tongue. She had arched away from him, and slapped him when his large hands rounded boldly over her behind, pulling her hips against the hard swelling beneath his plaid. He had claimed drunkenness; but she had known that, drunk or not, Parian would never be a tender husband.
But this Fraser, a stranger who had no reason to care about her, touched her as if she were made of silk and roses. His kisses were kind and yet strong, surging through her like bursts of flame. No threat, no sense of wrongness spun awry in her gut, as she had felt with Parian. She felt herself relax and sink into the warm ocean of pleasure Kenneth provided with his lips, his hands, his breath.
His hand soothed over her breasts, rousing a shiver of need that spooled deep within her. She felt as if she had found the heart of a fire, and never wanted to leave its comfort.
When he hesitated, as if offering her a chance to stop what grew between them, she let her silence, and the kiss she returned, answer his unspoken question. When he drew the lacings of her bodice loose, when his fingers found her breast, she pulled in a breath. Slipping her hands over his wide, tightly muscled shoulders and chest, she sighed.
His touch, his kisses, roused a sudden swell of joy in her, and she smiled to herself, loving this—loving him. The thought stunned her, and she paused, wrapped in his arms, knowing, in a strange, complete, wordless way, that she was where she belonged.
She sank into the cocoon he provided, and wanted more, anything, all, from him. He glided his lips to her breast, and a deep, thunderous tremor rippled through her, as if strong enough to shake the bed, shake the room—
Kenneth sat up quickly, bolting from the bed with a muttered oath. "The roof! It's close to collapsing!" he yelled. He leaped past the hearth toward the animals.
Bewildered for a moment, Catriona scrambled out of the bed. The walls trembled, and noise and chaos flooded the room. She swept the anxious cat into her arms and watched as the ceiling over the stable area sagged and groaned. The horses and the cow shifted, bumped, and kicked out at the furniture and the walls.
The cow stumbled against the upturned table, which crashed to the ground. Kenneth struggled to pull and push and cajole the three animals to safety across the room. Then the thatched roof above the abandoned corner emitted an unearthly groan, and shivered down in a heap of ice, snow, and straw.
Chapter Seven
« ^ »
"Argh," Kenneth said, leaning back into the recess of the box-bed, "she seems to like me." He held up an arm to protect his face and turned his head, trying to avoid the cow's hot breath as she snuffled sloppily at his hair. Beside him, Catriona laughed with delight. He
Similar Books
