Kilting Me Softly: 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

Whoever he was, the man was about to die and he was asking for sex. “Now who’s insane?”
    “No more insane than you. A perfect match, I’d say,” he remarked in the Scottish brogue that, like it or not, thrilled her from head to toe.
    It was crazy. So why was she entertaining it? The idea of hurting him with the knife appealed to her more than anything. The idea of hurting him with sex appealed to her more than she wanted to admit. Hurting him in any way whatsoever was her ultimate goal.
    “Admit it. You feel it too.” He thrust his hips and looked at her with his magnetic emerald eyes. “From the moment you walked up to me.”
    No …
    “You felt it.”
    In an act of mutiny, arousal flooded her pussy at his declaration. And he knew it, because his struggle ceased and his voice lowered to an unsettling calm. “No one need ever know.”
    Damn straight. She was going to make fucking sure of that.
    Without further hesitation, she pressed her pelvis against him, grinding herself on the rigid shaft that united them in carnal lust. “No. They don’t.”
    Morgan slipped the blade between her breasts and turned it, the black lace cups of her bra cleaved in two. Keeping her eyes on him, she slipped out of the now-useless garment and threw it aside, her soft pastel nipples hardening to pink topaz. She cinched the sides of her skirt high enough to reveal she wore nothing beneath it, allowing him a view of her naked pussy, the small v-shaped tuft of blonde hair that directed his gaze farther downward to her clit and swollen labia.
    “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly.
    “Shut up.” Fueled by adrenaline, she moved between his muscular legs, grating her fingernails down them as she went, taking delight in the sound that escaped from the wall of his clenched teeth.
    “Oh fuck…” He struggled to see her lips and tongue revisit his cock for seconds.
    Inch by inch, she took him in, wetting his girth with the moisture of her hot mouth. God help her, he was scrumptious. Her head bobbed rhythmically up and down on him, her eyes occasionally drifting to his, making sure he watched her pleasure him. But he wasn’t alone in his rapture. Between her legs, a river of desire flowed.
    Helpless, he twisted and writhed to no avail. His fight captivated her, his beautiful male form flexing and stressing under a suit of muscle and sinew, coated with sweat and determination. “Morgan…”
    She stopped long enough to scan the area around them and pretended not to hear his cries, shrugging it off in a mocking display.
    “ Please , Morgan.”
    Shameless, she looked at him but continued to manipulate him with her mouth and hands, teasing the slit on the head of his cock with her tongue. “Did you hear something?”
    “Morgan, that feels too good. Please—”
    “What was that?”
    “God—please, Morgan. I’m begging you . ”
    “Hmm?” She sat up a little bit, rubbing her breasts against his shaft. Anything but look into his eyes, listen to his voice, his accent stronger now that he was under duress. “I’m sorry, what?”
    Panting, Conall stretched and pulled his restraints to their limits, making the headboard creak and groan. “ Fuck me, Morgan. Please, please fuck me .”
    Intoxicated by his pleas but determined not to show it, she looked at him through a haze of heat and hatred. She would not be just another victim to him. He would not claim both her and her sister. It was his turn to be the victim.
    Morgan moved onto him with lightning speed. Careless of how a man would feel inside her, she impaled herself on him in one shearing motion.
    And screamed.
    Grabbing a handful of his hair, she teased his mouth, agape in an ambivalence of pain and pleasure, with her tongue. But it was as much for her benefit, desperate to conceal her reaction to his penetration of her maidenhead.
    “Jesus on toast.” He moaned, pulling against his restraints.
    Working on instinct and what she’d read in books, sneaked from