Highland Outlaw (Campbell Trilogy #2)(67)

This dress really was shameless. But from the way his eyes gorged hungrily on the round swells of flesh and the deep cleft in between, she had to admit that perhaps Alys was right. Lizzie would never be a raving beauty like her cousin Flora, but that didn't mean she couldn't emphasize her attributes.

“And how do you propose we sort this out?” His voice was wonderfully hoarse.

She smiled, a devilish glint in her eyes. “Oh, I'm sure we can figure something out.” Her gaze dropped to the hefty bulge in his pants.

Dear God.

Her mouth suddenly went dry. Her bravado faltered. She wasn't nearly as confident as she pretended.

Unconsciously, she licked her bottom lip. If possible, the prodigious bulge seemed to grow a little bigger. He appeared to be in a great deal of pain, but Elizabeth was discovering that she had a rather ruthless streak when it came to this man.

She approached him slowly, enjoying the way his body tensed as she drew near, his intense, predatory gaze following her every move. She felt a rush of heat. For the first time in her life, she felt the power of being a desirable woman. It gave her just enough courage to go on.

She slid against him, molding her body to his. The sizzle of contact startled them both. She loved the hard press of his body against hers, feeling every bulge, every cord of hard muscle. Her body flushed with heat, concentrating in tingling awareness where they touched.

He made a choking noise in the back of his throat—half groan, half pain. “You don't know what you are doing.”

His voice was tight—very tight. She could feel the pressure reverberating inside him. The powerful muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed.

She tilted her chin. “I know exactly what I'm doing.”

His eyes bored into hers, hot and full of passion. “There will be no going back. Once I make you mine, I will never let you go.”

Her heart clenched at the possessive tone in his voice.

She slid her hands around his neck and rose to her tiptoes—he really was frightfully tall—her body stretched against him. The evidence of their desire rose between them. It was impossible to deny in the hard peak of her ni**les driving into his chest and the rigid length of his erection held taut against her stomach. And the heat. So much heat. It seemed to meld them together.

“Good,” she said. “I don't want to go back. I only want you.” She pressed tiny kisses along his jaw, savoring the hint of salt on his skin and the scratch of his jaw against her lips. She wanted to inhale him. Devour him. Lick every inch of his incredible body.

His heart pounded furiously against hers, and she knew he was holding himself on a very tight rein.

She trailed soft kisses along his jaw until she came to the sensitive place below his ear, and then she drew little circles with her tongue.

He started to shake but still would not touch her. His will was formidable, but so was hers—and she'd finally found a weakness in the steely armor of this fierce warrior. She had no intention of relenting now.

She rubbed against him a little more, raking her ni**les against his chest, the friction sending delicious little fissures of pleasure down her belly, concentrating between her legs. She closed her eyes, wallowing in the sudden rush of heat and dampness, feeling the insistent clench of desire.

His powerful erection pressed intimately against her, teasing her with possibility. Her mouth was right on his ear, and she spoke her wicked thoughts aloud. “I want you inside me.”

That was it. With a violent growl, he snapped. “Damn you, Elizabeth.”

His mouth fell on hers in a ravaging kiss. A kiss that reached down to her soul, claiming her completely. Not wasting any time, he scooped her up and carried her toward an empty pallet.

Chapter 14

His body was on fire. Patrick had never been more aroused in his life. His shy, sweet little Lizzie had turned into a bold seductress. She could bring him to his knees like this. Hell, she already had.

All his honorable intentions were forgotten in the space of one long heartbeat.

I want you inside me.

He'd almost come right then, his body already pushed to the edge by the seductive press of her sweet little body against his. His ironclad control shattered into fragments. All he could think about was tossing her down, twining her legs around him, and thrusting up high inside her until the demons roaring in his head quieted. Until these powerful, terrifying emotions unleashed by her tender declaration let him go. Until the burning in his chest stopped.

She loves me. God. He didn't want her love. It was too great a responsibility. He would only hurt her. But for one reckless moment he'd been moved beyond words, humbled by her gift. Almost … happy.

His kiss was brutal, punishing, for making him feel like this. He was desperate. Out of control. Never had he experienced this kind of irrational urgency. He needed her. Like a starving man needed food. Like a dying man needed salvation. Now. Before everything went to hell. Before she could change her mind.

Though she seemed in no danger of that. She met him full force, plying his carnal strokes with thrusts and parries of her own. The sensation of her sweet, silky tongue sliding against his, delving in his mouth with eager abandon, drove him wild.

He drank her in. Her heat. Her sweetness. God, he couldn't get enough of her. His tongue circled hers, twining and probing in an anxious rhythm that echoed the pulsing of his erection as he carried her toward the bed.