The Laird’s Christmas Kiss (The Lairds Most Likely 2)

“You’re right.” She stroked the back of his neck with a gentle fervor that raged through him like wildfire. “It does get better.”

“I told ye.” He buried his head in her shoulder, feeling her body adjust to his. She clenched around him tighter than a fist. The connection extended beyond two bodies joined in a bed to something transcendent he’d never known before. That was love’s alchemy, he supposed.

“There’s more,” he said and proved it by slowly pulling back, relishing how she clung to each inch.

“Oh, Brody…” she said in wonder. “I like that.”

He laughed, despite his raging desperation, and slid into her again, the movement easier this time. Again he found that unforgettable welcome.

Elspeth wriggled once more, sparking a fierce hunger that he’d leashed until now, for the sake of her innocence. He could hold back no longer. On a guttural groan, he began to move in purposeful strokes that pushed her deep into the mattress. The rough saw of her breath was like music, as he struggled to last until she achieved her peak.

With every second, his control became more ragged. Through the blood roaring in his ears, he heard her give a sharp cry of ecstasy, and her body gripped him hard in a throbbing culmination.

As she tumbled over the edge, he thrust hard and felt his seed gush out of him. For a long time, he wandered lost in pulsating darkness and incomparable carnal pleasure. The power of his release blinded him, left him shaking and exhausted. And whole in a way he could never remember feeling before.

In giving himself so completely to Elspeth, he’d gained a new life.

Brody slumped onto his wife, overcome with the glory of what they’d just shared. He sucked in a fractured breath, tinged with the scent of sexual satisfaction.

“I love you, Elspeth,” he whispered into the side of her neck. His world would never be the same.

Her arms curled around his back. “And I love you.”

Without releasing her, he rolled to the side so he didn’t crush his exquisite, passionate, naked bride. He smiled into her warm, damp skin. The simple, profound exchange of vows was the perfect ending to that sublime union.

Brody’s embrace tightened. Elspeth was his, now and forever. Soon he and this wondrous lassie would go home to Invermackie, where a life of joy and purpose extended before them like a long, golden road. Each day, love would guide their steps into a shining future. He could hardly wait.

This year’s Christmas at Achnasheen had brought him a gift beyond compare. And as any canny Scotsman knew, treasures were meant for cherishing. In the interest of further cherishing, he drew his bonny bride close into his body and kissed her until neither of them could see straight.

***

I hope you’ve enjoyed your visit to the world of the Lairds Most Likely. The Laird’s Willful Lass is the first book

in the series. Keep reading for more information and an excerpt:

Excerpt from The Laird's Willful Lass

Blurb:

An untamed man as immovable as a Highland mountain…

Fergus Mackinnon, autocratic Laird of Achnasheen, likes to be in charge. When he was little more than a lad, he became master of his Scottish estate, and he’s learned to rely on his unfailing judgment. So has everyone else in his corner of the world. He sees no reason for his bride—when he finds her—to be any different.

A headstrong woman from the warm and passionate south…

Marina Lucchetti knows all about fighting her way through a wall of masculine arrogance. In her native Florence, she’s become a successful artist, no easy feat for a woman. Now a commission to paint a series of Highland scenes promises to spread her fame far and wide. When a carriage accident strands her at Achnasheen for a few weeks, it’s a mixed blessing. The magnificent landscape offers everything her artistic soul could desire. If only she can resist the impulse to smash her easel across the laird’s obstinate head.

When two fiery souls come together, a conflagration flares.

Marina is Fergus’s worst nightmare—a woman who defies a man’s guidance. Fergus challenges everything Marina believes about a woman’s right to choose her path. No two people could be less suited. But when irresistible passion enters the equation, good sense soon jumps into the loch.

Will the desire between Fergus and Marina blaze hot, then fade to ashes? Or will the imperious laird and his willful lass discover that their differences aren’t insurmountable after all, but the spice that will flavor a lifetime of happiness?

Prologue

Western Highlands of Scotland, April 1802

“I think we’re lost,” Diarmid said, trudging along the narrow path a few feet behind Hamish.