Read Desire in Tartan: 2 (Highland Vampires) for Free Online

closer. Alice strained to hear, but the meaning of the conversation was clear even if the words were not, for both men passed coins to her.
    Blain seized her hair and tugged her head to one side. After a moment, Malcolm put his lips to her neck. Alice had never known that the throat was such an important part of this particular interaction between male and female…not that she knew much.
    While Malcolm nuzzled the whore’s neck, Blain loosened his trews and lifted her skirts, picking up one of her knees and setting her crudely-shod foot into a crack in the brick wall. He took out a long, fleshy pole from his trousers. After stroking himself for a few seconds, he snugged closer to the woman. Alice couldn’t see what he was doing, but she assumed that he put his…member inside her.
    Slurping sounds came from below interspersed with grunts, groans and moans.
    Alice watched in a daze of horrified fascination. She knew that this was what men and women did, but couldn’t picture herself with her skirt lifted on the street with one man inside her and another kissing her throat. Still, she found herself wondering how she’d feel, backed up against a wall, leg high, with Dugald Kilburn between her knees thrusting into her while kissing her neck.
    An unwelcome throb began to trouble the flesh between her thighs. Her hand involuntarily moved toward it, and she caressed herself through her nightgown. Dampness seeped through the thin, worn cotton to moisten her fingers. She jerked her hand away, appalled by her unexpected lust.
    She couldn’t be aroused by the scene below. She couldn’t.
    That two men she knew were enjoying a street whore right in front of her should disgust her, Alice told herself.
    And it did. She realized that she was stirred by her memories. What stirred her was Dugald Kilburn’s kiss, his touch, the feel of his maleness prodding her through her robe. Not two men tupping a whore in the street.
    She resolved to ignore the incident. Mentioning that she’d spied on three of the Kilburns when they’d taken their pleasure of a whore would not be a pleasant conversation.
    She crawled back into her bed, grateful for the lingering warmth of her hot water bottle, which echoed another warmth…between her thighs. She squirmed, but wondered why she felt self-conscious, with no one around to witness what she was doing.
    With a deep breath, she set her fingers upon her woman’s flesh and felt an answering throb. She caressed and the throb increased. Warm liquid oozed onto her hand, and she rubbed that in the same way she spread lotion onto her cheeks.
    The heat increased and she became acutely conscious of the soft, worn linen of her old chemise against her skin. She cupped a breast while she played with herself.
    How would she feel if Dugald Kilburn touched her so?
    She closed her eyes to better remember his kiss.
    His lips…oh, his lips looked firm but had felt so soft and cool compared to the fire raging within her. And so alive, especially his active tongue, which had seemed to want to explore her mouth thoroughly and forever.
    She moaned, then clamped a hand over her lips, horrified. What kind of wanton was she?
    One who wanted Dugald Kilburn more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. One who wanted his hands on her in just the way he’d held her while they’d kissed. The memory of that big, broad palm pressing on her bottom, forcing her to feel his erection on her mound… Another moan slipped from between her lips.
    She’d wanted to rub herself against him like a cat against a stroking hand, but hadn’t dared. When she thought of how she’d felt, what he could make her feel, she purred and stroked herself harder.
    She thought of his chest, of the nipple she’d glimpsed beneath the damp linen of his shirt, and her breath came in tiny pants. She imagined pinching that nipple as she squeezed her own.
    She pinched harder and gasped at the little sting, which seemed to increase the heat and tingling