Plaid to the Bone (Bad in Plaid 1)

His thumb was drawing wonderful little circles on the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm, and Leanna was in very real danger of forgetting whatever they were speaking about.

“What I mean, lass, is how good I’ll feel between yer legs. How good we’ll be in bed.”

Oh.

Oh.

“I…” For the first time in a long while, her smart tongue failed her. “Uh…”

Smirking, he lifted his palm from the stone and brought it to cup her cheek. “When ye’re with me, I’ll make ye forget any other man who’s ever touched—”

“There’s no’ been another man.”

He froze at her interruption, and in the light from her candle, she could see his eyes sweeping her face, as if searching for the truth.

So she nudged him into understand. “I’ve never even been kissed.”

“Holy mother,” he breathed, his attention on her lips. “Truly?”

And suddenly, instead of being ashamed by that fact, Leanna found herself straining toward him. “Truly,” she whispered.

His gaze flicked once to hers, then back down to her lips again. “Well, we cannae be having that.”

And just like that, he leaned far enough forward to brush his lips against hers—the softest, gentlest, most wonderful touch—then straightened. “Now ye cannae claim ye’ve never been kissed.

Oh.

She’d forgotten she was holding the candle, and it dropped from her hand. But instead of stooping to pick it up, Leanna lifted her free hand to her lips, her eyes widening with wonder.

“Leanna?” he whispered.

“I’ve never been kissed twice.”

Chuckling, his arms wrapped around her waist, and her hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“Aye, lass,” he murmured, just before his lips claimed hers.

And this kiss…

This kiss… ‘Twas everything. Every promise made when their hands had touched, every spark of heat which had flown between their glances, every vow unspoken when they’d watched one another and dreamed of possibilities…

This kiss was them all.

Leanna whimpered under his gentle ministrations, which allowed him to nip gently at her lower lip. When she opened her lips on a gasp, his tongue slid between their seam and, excited, she invited him in.

Without words, Kenneth showed her the soft play between a man and a woman who were discovering one another, in the most beautiful way. His hands on her hips rose, until they rested against her side, just under her breasts, and if his thumb moved slightly, he’d be brushing her sensitive area. She could feel herself straining for that touch, despite the layers of wool and linen between them.

And mayhap ‘twas that knowledge, but something changed in their kiss then, something to do with heat and desperation and need.

He deepened the kiss with a growl, and at her soft mewl of acceptance, his tongue delved deeper, his lips claiming hers in a way she couldn’t imagine. His touch was causing a weight—hot and heavy—to settle between her legs, and the sensation thrilled her.

She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t an idiot. She knew what this meant and eagerly surged against him, pressing her most delicate parts into his hardness, which caused him to groan and move his lips to her cheek, then her jaw.

Tilting her head to one side, Leanna shivered with happiness as his kisses moved to her ear, then down her neck. He had to bend to reach her, and she pressed herself up on her toes, rubbing her pelvis against the thick, solid length she could feel beneath his kilt.

He was slowly rocking his hips and each miniature thrust brought a shock of pleasure to her core. With a desperate whimper, Leanna wrapped her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and pulled his lips back to hers, at the same moment, she planted the palm of her other hand against the stone behind his head and pushed him backward, thinking only of pressing herself against him.

But something shifted under her hand, and as he leaned backward, a movement in the wall caused Leanna to throw her hand out, knocking the candle aside. It hit the ground with a faint clatter at the same moment he dragged his lips from hers with a curse.