Seduction of a Highland Lass (McCabe Trilogy 2)

She was nearly asleep, her head tilting to the side, when her door opened. Startled, she looked up to see Alaric standing across the room, shrouded in darkness. The few candles ablaze in her chamber were all situated around her tub and dressing area. The rest of the light was cast from the fire in the hearth and it didn’t quite reach to where Alaric stood.

For a long moment he stood watching and she returned his gaze, waiting, and absorbing the hunger in his eyes. There was something decidedly different about his demeanor this night.

Typically he was lighthearted and teasing. They’d laugh softly before making love and often talk about the events of the day.

Tonight his expression was fierce and his eyes glittered dangerously. She swallowed nervously as he advanced toward the tub, his gaze never leaving her.

She was struck by sudden vulnerability, and it excited her. Power rippled through his body and swelled through the room until it was a living, breathing thing.

He stood over the tub, looking down at her naked body, his gaze stroking possessively over her. When she went to cover her br**sts with her arms, he knelt beside the tub and gently pried her arms away.

“Nay, do not shield yourself from me. This night you are mine. Solely mine. You belong to me and only me. Tonight I take what is mine. I cherish what is mine.”

Her chin trembled and she pressed her lips together to curb her nervousness. It wasn’t that she was afraid. Far from it. She was excited. More so than she’d ever been, and she was about to fidget right out of the tub.

He took the cloth where it hung limply over the edge of the tub and touched it to her neck. Despite the warmth of the water and from the fire just a short distance away, chill bumps instantly dotted her upper torso.

They rushed over her chest to her br**sts and beaded her ni**les into tight nubs as he gently pulled the cloth over her shoulder.

The scent of roses wafted through her nostrils. Alaric took the bar of soap from its nook and massaged the cloth around it until suds formed.

“Lean forward,” he commanded.

His quiet, sensual tone made her insides quiver. There was a dark promise in his voice that had her wound so tightly, she felt near to bursting.

When she was positioned as he wanted her, he began rubbing the cloth in lazy circles over her back.

“Oh that feels wondrous,” she moaned.

He covered every inch, coming up to knead her shoulders before retreating to caress the line of her back down to the dimple just over the crease of her bu**ocks.

Her eyes were closed, her head bobbing forward as sweet lethargy—and pleasure—flooded her veins. But when he reached around to brush the cloth across her ni**les, her eyes flew open and her breathing sped up and bounced erratically from her nostrils.

He paused then cupped both mounds in his palms. Slowly, his thumbs brushed over the peaks. Up and then down until each touch sent shards of exquisite pleasure bolting through her womb.

She flinched, not from pain but from the overwhelming shock of ecstasy when his mouth touched her nape. Just a simple, gentle kiss, but his mouth was like a bolt of lightning.

The dual sensations of his thumbs brushing her ni**les and his mouth moving sensuously over her neck turned her bones to jam. She was helpless. Completely at his mercy, and that excited her all the more.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her neck. “I look at you and I’m overwhelmed by your fire, your gentle beauty, your determination, and your courage. I think there has never been another woman of your equal. There never will be.”

Her heart swelled and the ache spread to her throat, tightening until words were impossible. What could she say anyway?

“Tonight I’m going to take care of you as you did for me.”

His husky whisper hummed over her ears, and she shivered at the images his words invoked.

He wet her hair and then slowly and thoroughly washed every strand. He ran his fingers through the thick tresses, one by one, until every part was clean. Then he tilted her head back and rinsed so that the soapy water didn’t wash into her eyes.

Over and over the warm water cascaded over her shoulders until finally he was satisfied that the job was done.

“Give me your hand.”

She slipped her fingers over his and he lifted her to her feet. Water rushed down her body, leaving her sleek and shiny in the low light. Nervously she waited as his gaze swept up and down, heating every inch in his path.

His eyes glittered as he lowered his head. She caught her breath when his mouth hovered precariously over her breast. Then he pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked strongly at the tip.

Her knees buckled and she would have collapsed back into the tub, but he grasped her around her waist and hauled her against him, his mouth still firmly around her nipple.

“I’m getting you all wet,” she gasped.

“I don’t care.”

He moved to her other breast and flicked his tongue out. It rasped over the sensitive point, sending shivers of delight down her spine.

She was captivated by the picture they presented. Their bodies meshed together in the warm glow of firelight, his mouth at her breast and her skin gleaming from wetness. It was every romantic dream she’d ever hatched. He was her warrior. Though she’d saved him in the beginning, he saved her each and every day.

Her warrior. Her love.

“Love me, Alaric,” she whispered.

“Aye, I do, lass. I do. And I will. Tonight is mine. You’re my captive to do with as I see fit. Never will you feel more cherished and loved than you do this night.”

He left her for the barest moment and returned with a drying blanket. As soon as she stepped from the tub, he wrapped her in it and guided her toward the fire.