Brenda's breath hitched as she felt the hard length of Malcolm Ravenswood's arousal pressing insistently against her. A mix of shock and desire flooded her senses, making her writhe involuntarily against him. His strong, rough hands moved to her breasts, teasing her n*****s through the thin fabric of her gown. She gasped when he pinched them gently, a jolt of electricity racing straight to her core.
"Malcolm," she whispered, her voice quavering with a mixture of innocent wonder and newfound desire.
"Hush, lass," he murmured, his Scottish brogue rough and soothing all at once. Gradually, his fingertips slipped beneath her gown, with exquisite tenderness, drawing forth sighs she hadn't known herself capable of making. Brenda's hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, anchoring herself
