Read Online Scandal in Scotland by Karen Hawkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Hawkins
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in slow circles and she caught herself holding her breath, wondering if he would move his hand lower to where she was beginning to ache for a touch. And oh, how she ached. She closed her eyes against an onslaught of pure, shivery need, wishing and wishing that he would reach for her. Unable to help herself, she pressed upward, arching her back so that her bottom pressed into his hand.
William took a deep breath, his heart thudding as hard as a mallet against his chest, his hand still cupped over her pink ass cheek. Smooth and rounded, it begged to be touched. He’d been so angry with her stubbornness, so furious to see the fine lawn chemises that Colchester had bought her, that there’d been no thinking.
He lowered his head at his own weakness. She’d squirmed in his lap in an attempt to free herself, unwittingly inciting his passion even more. She apparently hadn’t noticed that he no longer held her in place.
A gentleman would put her skirts to rights and apologize. A gentleman would also feel regret for treating her thusly.
But to her, he was no gentleman, which was the reason why she’d spurned him all those years ago. It was also the reason why he no longer cared what she thought of him. Her actions of long ago burned still, though they did little to excuse his treatment of her today.
He noted that she’d stopped squirming and lay quietly across his lap and he wondered if she was fighting back tears. He’d seen her do that one time before—on the day he’d left after their final argument. The memory gripped him and he shook his head at his own impulsive temper. “Marcail?”
She shifted in his lap, her bottom pressing upward as her hip grazed his cock. He gritted his teeth and forced his mind elsewhere, though it was difficult, especially with her rounded bottom within his line of sight. Unable to resist, he smoothed his hand over it once more, aware that she stilled at his touch and was lifting up to meet him even more. She wants this . The thought circled his mind, astonishing him.
He slid his hand off her ass to her thigh. Instantly, her legs parted just enough that, had he wished, he could touch her most private area.
He blinked. She wasn’t angry but aroused, as was he.
As if to confirm his thoughts, she whispered, “William, please.” Her voice shivered through him and left him thick with need.
William didn’t think twice; he slipped his hand between her silken thighs, her dampness welcoming his touch. He stroked her carefully, slowly, each touch lingering on her hardened clitoris. She moaned and arched her back, her hips rubbing his cock with each move.
He was so aroused he couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but continue to stroke her. She was wetter now, her movements more urgent.
Finally, he could take no more. He slipped an arm under her waist and flipped her over so that she was sitting, her head tucked under his chin, her bared bottom pressed into his lap. He lifted his hips and let her feel his thickened cock. “See what you’ve done to me?” he growled in her ear. “You are the most stubborn, challenging, unfaithful, scheming woman I’ve ever met.”
She tilted back her head, her passion-bright eyes meeting his. “And you are the most intractable, rude, uncouth, arrogant—”
He kissed her, thrusting his tongue between her lips, and she melted against him. He deepened the kiss and she moaned into him, opening her mouth to his, pressing her chest to his.
Their passion, always just a red-hot ember away from full flames, burst into fire and for a heady moment, William wanted to throw himself into the seductive heat.
But only for a moment. This woman was a tantalizing armful, but there was a price for giving into this passion; there always was with women like Marcail. She also held something that belonged to him. Something worth far more than a romp between the sheets, even with such a delicious armful.
Pressing away a deep regret, he loosened his hold
William took a deep breath, his heart thudding as hard as a mallet against his chest, his hand still cupped over her pink ass cheek. Smooth and rounded, it begged to be touched. He’d been so angry with her stubbornness, so furious to see the fine lawn chemises that Colchester had bought her, that there’d been no thinking.
He lowered his head at his own weakness. She’d squirmed in his lap in an attempt to free herself, unwittingly inciting his passion even more. She apparently hadn’t noticed that he no longer held her in place.
A gentleman would put her skirts to rights and apologize. A gentleman would also feel regret for treating her thusly.
But to her, he was no gentleman, which was the reason why she’d spurned him all those years ago. It was also the reason why he no longer cared what she thought of him. Her actions of long ago burned still, though they did little to excuse his treatment of her today.
He noted that she’d stopped squirming and lay quietly across his lap and he wondered if she was fighting back tears. He’d seen her do that one time before—on the day he’d left after their final argument. The memory gripped him and he shook his head at his own impulsive temper. “Marcail?”
She shifted in his lap, her bottom pressing upward as her hip grazed his cock. He gritted his teeth and forced his mind elsewhere, though it was difficult, especially with her rounded bottom within his line of sight. Unable to resist, he smoothed his hand over it once more, aware that she stilled at his touch and was lifting up to meet him even more. She wants this . The thought circled his mind, astonishing him.
He slid his hand off her ass to her thigh. Instantly, her legs parted just enough that, had he wished, he could touch her most private area.
He blinked. She wasn’t angry but aroused, as was he.
As if to confirm his thoughts, she whispered, “William, please.” Her voice shivered through him and left him thick with need.
William didn’t think twice; he slipped his hand between her silken thighs, her dampness welcoming his touch. He stroked her carefully, slowly, each touch lingering on her hardened clitoris. She moaned and arched her back, her hips rubbing his cock with each move.
He was so aroused he couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but continue to stroke her. She was wetter now, her movements more urgent.
Finally, he could take no more. He slipped an arm under her waist and flipped her over so that she was sitting, her head tucked under his chin, her bared bottom pressed into his lap. He lifted his hips and let her feel his thickened cock. “See what you’ve done to me?” he growled in her ear. “You are the most stubborn, challenging, unfaithful, scheming woman I’ve ever met.”
She tilted back her head, her passion-bright eyes meeting his. “And you are the most intractable, rude, uncouth, arrogant—”
He kissed her, thrusting his tongue between her lips, and she melted against him. He deepened the kiss and she moaned into him, opening her mouth to his, pressing her chest to his.
Their passion, always just a red-hot ember away from full flames, burst into fire and for a heady moment, William wanted to throw himself into the seductive heat.
But only for a moment. This woman was a tantalizing armful, but there was a price for giving into this passion; there always was with women like Marcail. She also held something that belonged to him. Something worth far more than a romp between the sheets, even with such a delicious armful.
Pressing away a deep regret, he loosened his hold
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