Loving Her Highland Enemy by Samantha Holt (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📕

blissful way. All anger left her, but the fire remained, stoked by his harsh kisses.

Tavish broke the kiss for a moment to meet her gaze. “Nessa,” he repeated once more, before capturing her mouth again.

His tongue swept across hers and he nibbled on her bottom lip, then moved his mouth down, leaving tiny bites along her skin that left her heated. He nipped her lobe, then where her shoulder met her neck. Shivers swept through her as though snow had trickled down her spine. She closed her eyes and moved her hands up around his shoulders, gripping on while he lavished her neck and face with attention.

“I’m going to take ye, lass,” he murmured against her skin.

“Aye,” she agreed. “Oh aye.”

He tugged her plaid and she heard the pin pop off and clatter to the floor. Next came her kirtle and the rest of her garments until she stood naked in front of him. He looped his hands around her waist and drew her close, using a hand in her hair to tug her gently to look up at him. His eyes were dark pools of desire and his breaths came hard. She felt the solidity of him pressing against her belly.

“I’ve been wanting to see ye like this since the moment I lifted ye from the boat.”

She clasped the swell of his arms. She should feel vulnerable, being the only naked one in the room, but there was a strength in her nudity. He desired her with such passion that it stole her breath.

“I wanted ye too,” she confessed. “I just didnae want to admit I wanted a Maclean.”

“Do ye want one now?”

“Aye.” She nodded. “I want one now.”

✽✽✽

TRIUMPH SOARED THROUGH him. Headier than the triumph of having come out of the haze of battle victorious. There would be no greater triumph than taking her as his own.

She fumbled with the pin holding his plaid and flung it aside. Together, they tore away the rest of his clothing and her cool fingers connected with his heated skin. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as she ran her hands down his stomach and pressed her palm over his cock. He glanced up at the ceiling and prayed for restraint.

Apparently no one was going to grant it. She moved her hands up and down him, curling her fingers around the width of him, and he groaned as pleasure pulsed through his body. He snatched her hand away.

“Yer enough to drive a man to the edge of insanity,” he said, as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

He released her hand and curved his own around her rear, drawing her close. He nudged against her, finding her wet and ready for him. God’s wounds, she’d be the death of him.

She pressed a hot kiss to his chest, and he slipped a hand between them, determined to feel her properly. She gasped when he parted her folds, skimming a finger over her sensitive spot.

Head tilted back, she closed her eyes and he kissed the offering of her neck while he moved his fingers until she squirmed against him. Finally, he slipped a finger into her tight heat and moved it in and out. She rocked with him, making little noises of pleasure and impaling herself on his fingers when he added another.

Jaw tight, he watched the show, feeling his pulse pound in his temples. Each breath hurt, searing his lungs. He couldn’t hold on for much longer but, by God, this was the most sensual show he’d ever seen. She sucked down a sharp breath, dug her fingernails into his arms and stiffened. Her body tightened around his fingers and released then she murmured his name and opened her eyes.

“Ye’ve done it now, lass. Ye’ve broken me,” he uttered.

“What—”

He smothered her mouth with his, drawing her up into his arms. She released a squeak of surprise but latched her arms around his neck. He kissed her furiously, desperately. He’d never get enough, never taste enough, of that he was certain.

With her legs latched around him, the heat of her connected with his arousal and the ache inside him became unbearable. He didn’t even know if he’d come here with the intention of making love to her but he had no choice. Mayhap they were destined to be together or some such foolish notion but who was he to deny destiny?

“Tavish,” she murmured when he broke the kiss briefly to eye her.

It was all he needed. She wanted this as much as he did. He kissed her deeply, and rocked against her, while her hands scrambled over him, likely leaving little marks in their wake. He didn’t mind. He wanted her to mark him, wanted the evidence of their desire on him.

Their tongues tangled and he staggered a few steps until her back met the wall. She gasped and he pressed against her, digging his fingers into her thighs. He’d never seen a more beautiful lass. Each part of her seemed to fit him perfectly, as though she’d been crafted for him. Her hair was wild about her, a strange contrast to the white stone wall, her skin pale and milky, warmed on one side by the light of the fire. He roughly cupped a breast that just about filled his palm.

“Tavish,” she moaned. “Dinnae make me wait.”

“Ye cannae blame a man for admiring,” he said against her mouth.

“I can.” She gripped his neck and kissed him hard.

He forgot everything then. The fear for his father, the lies she’d told, the truths she’d admitted. They were no longer a Maclean and a Sinclair, but two soon-to-be lovers and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Gripping her tightly, he broke the kiss to line himself up with her. He pressed forward, gritting his teeth as her heat surrounded him. Her body tensed in his arms and he pushed deeper, hearing her breath hitch when he moved farther inside her. Her eyes widened with each inch. He watched the wonder flitter across her face then dropped