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Claiming Her

Page 108

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“No!” Fear flushed through her. Her hands closed around the post at the corner of the bed. “What if…what if I marry you?”

The words, flung in desperation, finally stopped his advance. His eyebrows lifted. “Now? You’ll marry me now?”

“Yes!” It was all an outbreath. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” She tried to say yes as many times as she’d said no, which was a great many times. They all hung in the air.

“D’accord,” he murmured slowly.

“Oh, good,” she breathed, relief washing through her. She let go of the bedpost, her muscles relaxing.

His hand stayed out.

She went to him, and when she was close enough, he tugged her the rest of the way over and kissed her. It was a slow, lingering kiss. A kiss of consummation, a kiss of devoted union, and she felt the adoration coursing through it. Her hands twined around his shoulders, pulling him down to her mouth, until she was breathless from want.

He began tugging up her chemise. His mouth drifted to her ear. “Let’s get this over with, Katy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I’m going to punish you.”

“No…but I thought…”

His pale blue eyes held hers. “Thought what?”

She backed up. “I said…said I’d marry you.”

“So you did. And I’m very pleased. I’ll make you happy, I swear it. And that is all for later. Right now, you need to lie down over my knee.”

She backed up another step.

His eyes were dark with intent. He meant to do this, whether or not she wished it. Her breath staggered out in unsteady gasps.

“You don’t want me to have to come and get you, lass.”

Head bent, face flaming, she took an extremely small step his direction and peeked out from under lowered lashes. He’d sat down on the edge of the bed.

Bolts of cold fire lanced across her breasts. Her breath came faster and faster as she reached out and laid her hand in his.

He pulled her to stand before him.

Her breasts heaved. They felt full, trapped. He cupped one, his hand hot through the fabric, then he slid his palm down to her waist. His fingertips pinched her chemise.

“Pull it up.”

She pulled it as far as her knees, trembling.

“Come closer.”

She did, at once stunned and stupefied. Her body felt as if it would float right up out of the window. He took her fingers, kissed her knuckles. “Lie down.”

She started to lie on the bed, but he stopped her. He patted his thighs. “On me. On your belly, lass. Right here.”

Fire flared across her cheeks. “Oh, Aodh.”

He took her hand and made her bend her knees, drop to the floor, then tugged her forward to lay her body over his thighs.

Thundering heart, whirling head, blood firing in hot pulses. The room all but spun. Hard-muscled thighs pushed against her breasts. She stared ahead at the wall, the tiny decorations of swirling patterns, hearts and clubs. He rested one palm gently on her bottom. Through the thin linen shift, it was an imprint of heat. She made a tiny sound.

“Pull it up.”



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