The Highlander's Triumph by Eliza Knight Page B

against the wall like a man driven wild with his passion for her.
    Of all the words she’d heard during a liaison, his were the most potent. No wonder the maids were arguing over w ho graced his bed. Mariana might have to jump into that fray.
    “Shh…” She licked a teasing path to his ear and lightly nipped the lobe. She kept her voice low, disguising her accent. “Tonight my name is Desire.”
    Brandon stiffened a moment, pulled away, but in the darkness, she couldn’t see his face. Panic swelled around her heart. Had he recognized her? The stillness in the room grew into a palpable tension. This was a mistake.
    “I’m going to make love to ye, Des ire.” His voice was low, tight and throaty as though he were filled to the brim with need for her.
    Mariana nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. She whispered, “Aye,” using the Scottish tongue.
    Brandon pulled her away from the wall and carried her through the dark. She wondered if he could see through the blackness, because he didn’t run into any furniture nor trip on a rug or discarded object. He made straight for the bed, and sat her down upon it. His mattress was firm yet soft, and she sank back against it.
    “Wait, lass, not yet.” Brandon slid his fingers down her arms to her hands, and gently pulled her to stand. “I want to make love to ye naked.”
    Mariana’s breath caught. He wasn’t going to simply toss up her skirts and have his way with her. The image of their flesh pressed hotly together only increased her desire. Her nipples were hard aching buds and between her thighs was slick with dew. No man had ever made her feel like this. Wanted, needed, and considerate of her response. Brandon expected her to find as much pleasure in their union as he did.
    Thick, coarse fingers trailed along the neckline of her gown, skimming over the ribbons, and then taking hold. Brandon tugged lightly, letting the knot slip undone.
    “Ye came to me dressed so prim and proper… In your nightrail, lass. Did ye think to do that for me?”
    What could she say? He was right—a maid would have arrived in the gown she’d worn that day.
    “Did my cousin wrench ye from bed to come and please me?”
    She shook her head, realized he couldn’t see her, then whispered, “Nay.”
    He touched the dip in her throat. “Your heart beats fast.” He slid his fingers down her chest, between her breasts, pulling at the ribbons, until he touched right above her navel. Gooseflesh followed in his wake. “Your skin is so soft.” He pressed a hot kiss to her collarbone.
    Mariana’s breaths came quicker.
    “And ye taste like heaven itself.”
    He slid his mouth to the center of her chest, and then traveled down between her breasts, sliding her gown open to expose her breasts and puckered nipples to the chill air. Her mouth went dry. Jumbled thoughts filled her head. Brandon’s thumbs brushed over her nipples and she moaned, jumped a little.
    “Mmm,” he said. “I like the way ye respond to me.” Again he brushed over her nipples and saints preserve her, she thrust her chest forward, wanting more.
    She bit her lip to keep from begging him, feeling more and more out of control, she didn’t trust herself not to speak in her French tongue.
    Brandon’s lips branded a path from the valley of her breasts to the undersides, feather -light in his teasing quest to drive her mad. He licked, kissed, suckled at nearly every part of her breast save the peaks that wanted him most. Mariana threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged in an effort to move him where she wanted, but he only chuckled, mocking her desire.
    “Ye’re an eager, lass.” He gripped her hand and dragged it from his hair, down the thick muscles of his chest to the hardness beneath his plaid. “Do ye feel that? I’m eager for ye too.”
    His cock was long, thick, and stood as though waiting for her for an eternity. Mariana stroked a path upward, listening to his guttural moan. And that appeared to be