Read Tempted by the Highland Warrior for Free Online

to free him. She hadn’t succeeded, but they’d spent
an hour in each other’s arms. She’d lifted her skirts and rode him, impaling
herself upon his arousal.
    Every man had been unable to tear his eyes away when her head
had fallen back in passion, her rhythmic cries making each of them wish that he
could experience such a pleasure.
    When Marguerite’s hands moved to his hair, Callum let out a
gasp. Though no sound broke from his mouth, his fingers dug into the wood as he
struggled to keep from touching her.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise that would hurt
you.’
    It wasn’t that. God above, he wanted to reach out and pull her
into a kiss. He imagined tearing her gown apart, baring the softness of her body
before he laid her down upon the bed, tasting every part of her until she knew
the same torment he did.
    He nodded for her to continue and she washed his hair, her
fingers massaging his scalp. It felt so good that he closed his eyes to immerse
himself in her touch. When her hands moved to the base of his neck, he started
to lose his edge of control.
    To distract himself, Callum held his breath and dipped his head
beneath the water. She doesn’t want you , he reminded
himself. This was a duke’s daughter, a woman who ranked the same as a princess.
She shouldn’t have to lower herself, bathing him.
    When he emerged for air, water droplets rolled down his bearded
face. He opened his eyes and saw her staring at him. Beckoning to her, he
touched his beard and pointed to the blade at her waist.
    Her eyes furrowed a moment. ‘You want me to help you
shave?’
    He nodded. The heaviness of the beard bothered him, for it
seemed that the dirt of the prison was caught within it.
    ‘Would you rather do it yourself?’ she asked.
    If he tried, no doubt he’d slit his own throat without meaning
to. He’d been imprisoned since he was a young boy and when the first signs of a
beard had come a few years ago, he’d simply let it grow. Never before had he
shaved and he didn’t know how.
    But he wanted the touch of her hands upon him, no matter what
the reason.
    ‘All right,’ she agreed, ‘but I’ll need a sharper blade. Wait
here.’
    While she was gone, he soaped his face, trying to wash the dirt
from it. It seemed that no amount of scrubbing would rid him of the wretched
years he’d spent in chains.
    When Marguerite returned, she knelt before the tub and touched
his chin. First, she trimmed away the beard with shears, then reached for the
soap again. When her hands washed his roughened cheeks, he remained motionless.
Right now, he wanted to close his eyes and revel in the feeling of her hands
upon him. He imagined her hands moving lower, to his shoulders, and while she
shaved him with the blade, his desire for her intensified. Her face was so near
to his, her blue eyes concentrating on the task.
    He was hungry for a taste of her lips, but he forced himself
not to move. Instead, he drank in the sight of her, memorising every feature.
When she finished shaving him, she ran her fingertips over his cheeks.
    ‘I don’t think I missed any places,’ she said, but before she
could move away, he captured her face in his hands. Gently, he drew his wet
thumbs over her temples, down to her cheeks. Her lips parted in surprise and he
drew closer, watching. Wondering if she would let him steal the kiss he wanted
so badly.
    Her face flamed, and she stood up. ‘Y-you can do the rest while
I get your clothes.’ Handing him the soap, she moved far away from him, leaving
him to wonder if he’d only imagined the answering interest in her eyes.
    Callum washed his legs and the rest of his body, hiding himself
from her. Upon the floor, he spied a drying cloth and picked it up. He emerged
from the tub, drying himself off and wrapping the cloth around his hips.
Marguerite turned around, her gaze furtive. He waited for her to approach, not
wanting to frighten her. Beneath the cloth, he was still heavily aroused; if