Читать книгу Highland Fire - Hannah Howell - Страница 2

A tremor of want tore through Tavig. Wrapping his arms around Moira, he pulled her down onto their meager bed. He cupped her face in his hands he kissed her, savoring the heated sweetness of her mouth. The way she shyly bandied the strokes of his tongue, the way she pressed against him, told him she was willing. Tavig knew it was going to be hard to go slowly, gently. His desire for her was fierce and greedy.

Moira felt her nervousness and hint of fear smoothed away with each stroke of Tavig’s tongue, each touch of his hand. This was what she wanted. She had no doubts about it. She also knew she would have no regrets. For ten long years she had known no happiness and no affection. Tavig had made her blood burn. She was certain this would be as close to love as she would ever get and she intended to enjoy it to the fullest. After facing death in Craigmoordun, she knew any consequences she might face for being so free with her favors would never equal the regret she would suffer for continuing to say no to Tavig.

“Loving, ye feel so bonnie. Like warm silk.” Tavig gently traced the shape of her face with soft kisses.

“Ye feel rather bonnie yourself,” she whispered, tentatively running her hands over his broad, smooth back.

“There is still time to stop, sweet Moira.”

“Nay, I dinna wish to stop. I want this and for the first time in a verra long time I will do what I want…”