Читать книгу Highland Thirst - Lynsay Sands - Страница 2

“Brona,” Heming groaned as he kissed her throat, “do ye ken what I want?”

“Aye, I ken it,” she whispered. “I want it, too, although I will confess that I am nay all that sure of what it might be.”

Even as Heming began to unlace her gown, he said, “It is me deep inside ye, love.”

“Will that include a lot of kissing and touching?”

“Och, aye, loving, as much as I can bear ere I go mad with the wanting of ye.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Are ye sure ye are awake, love, and aware of what ye are agreeing to?”

“Verra awake and verra aware.”

Slowly tugging her gown down, Heming followed the line of her collarbone with soft kisses and light sweeps of his tongue. “I just dinnae want ye to have any regrets.”

“Do ye ken? I ne’er thought a mon would work so hard to talk a lass out of what he wants.”

Heming grinned against her skin and then finished tugging off her gown. As he began to unlace her shift, keeping them both dazed with kisses, he decided she did know what he wanted and what she wanted. In the way she gasped and trembled, even in the heady scent of arousal on her soft skin, he could tell that she wanted him as much as he wanted her…