Читать книгу The Highlander's Bride - Michele Sinclair - Страница 2

Something primitive erupted deep inside Conor under Laurel’s glittering gaze. His hand brushed her cheek as he pushed her wet locks behind her shoulders. His other hand stroked her arm as he looked all the while into her eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and brushed his mouth lightly across hers, urging her to comply.

Her lips were soft and warm. He slanted his mouth against hers, and she kissed back, increasing the pressure. Her fingers splayed across his back, and he carefully pulled her up against his chest. The effect of her roving hands on his body caused the constant ache in his loins to grow painful with need.

He deepened the kiss and played with her lower lip, encouraging her to open her mouth to him. When she finally did, he dove in, absorbing her into himself while his hands slid slowly up her spine. She tasted so good. Just like her scent, her kisses were fresh, new, and innocent…