Page 113 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating, the rough wool of his plaid brushing against her bare arms as he reached for her.

“Nay more secrets,” he murmured, his voice low, rough with emotion. His thumb traced slow circles over her knuckles, sending a shiver up her spine. “Nay more hidin’, Alba. Nae from ye.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze locked on his.

The firelight caught the golden flecks in his dark eyes, making them burn with an intensity that stole her breath.

“And what if I dinnae want tae hear what ye have tae say?” she whispered, though her body betrayed her, leaning into him, craving the solid warmth of his chest against hers.

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. “Then I’ll show ye instead.”

Before she could respond, he pulled her against him, one hand sliding to the small of her back, pressing her flush against the hard planes of his body.

The contact sent a jolt of heat straight to her core, her nipples tightening beneath the thin fabric of her gown.

His other hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lower lip before he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was neither gentle nor rushed. It was a kiss of possession, of long-held desire finally unleashed. His lips were firm, demanding, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a groan that vibrated through her entire body.

Alba melted against him, her hands fisting in the rough wool of his plaid as she kissed him back with equal fervor, her teeth nipping at his lower lip, drawing a growl from deep in his chest.

Lachlann broke the kiss only to press his forehead to hers, his breath ragged.

“Alba,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress against her ear. “I’ve waited too long fer this.”

His hands slid down her sides, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist before gripping the fabric of her gown. With a sharp tug, the laces gave way, the dress loosening around her shoulders.

Alba’s breath hitched as the cool air met her skin, the gown slipping down her arms, pooling at her feet in a whisper of fabric.

She stood before him in nothing but her shift, the thin linen doing little to hide the hard peaks of her nipples or the flush spreading across her skin.

Lachlann’s gaze raked over her, dark and hungry, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

“Ye’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped, his voice rough with need.

His hands followed the path of his eyes, skimming over her collarbone, down the swell of her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the fabric.

Alba gasped, arching into his touch, her body aching for more.

His fingers trailed lower, tracing the dip of her waist before sliding beneath the hem of her shift, his calloused palms rough against the soft skin of her thighs.

He pushed the fabric up, baring her to his gaze, his breath hitching as he took in the sight of her. His fingers glide through her folds, teasing her entrance.

Alba whimpered, her hips jerking forward, seeking more pressure, but he pulled back, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

He sank to his knees before her, his hands gripping her hips, his thumbs spreading her open.

The first touch of his tongue was a shock, a slow, deliberate stroke that had her gasping, her fingers tangling in his dark hair. His beard scratched at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, the contrast of rough and soft sending a shiver through her.

Lachlann groaned against her, the vibration making her knees tremble.

“Fuck, ye taste like heaven,” he muttered, his lips sealing over her clit, his tongue working in slow, torturous circles.

Alba’s head fell back against the stone wall, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers joined his mouth, one sliding inside her while his tongue continued its relentless assault.

She was so close, her body coiling tight, her thighs trembling as she rocked against his face. “Lachlann, please,” she begged, her voice hoarse with need.

He growled in response, the sound sending another wave of pleasure crashing through her. His fingers curled inside her, finding that spot that made her see stars, his tongue flicking over her clit with maddening precision.

Alba’s nails scraped against the stone wall, her body tightening, her orgasm just out of reach.