Page 69 of Beloved Enemy
Charlotte's eyes filled with fear and defiance, and she shoved at his hands, but he would not release her.
“Tell me, dammit,” he growled.
“You’re wrong, Reid. I’m not your enemy! I’m not dangerous. I’m no danger to you, to your clan, or to Kingswood—or Christ, even to Scotland.”
Reid squeezed his fingers on her arms. Even that large part of him that wanted to believe her knew that he couldn’t afford to, that lives depended on it, that there was no question what he’d seen tonight, Charlotte scurrying away as quickly as those others.
God’s bluid, but why did she have to be so brave? So bonny!
Before Charlotte could protest, possibly before she’d realized his intent, Reid crushed her in his arms and captured her lips in a demanding kiss. His embrace was ruthless, his kiss meant to punish her. He forced her mouth open with his tongue and for a second, she fought against him before she relented, returning his kiss with the same fierceness.
The anger inside him swelled. He didn’t want her to enjoy this. He backed her up against the wall and brought his hand between them, under his own plaid that covered her, and grasped her breast. A moan erupted inside him at the perfect weight and shape of her breast filling his hand. He squeezed greedily while he devoured her with his mouth and tongue.
He smothered her, against the wall and with the turbulence of his kiss, unhindered by her sudden, futile efforts to be free of his relentless grip. “Stop. Reid, stop.”
Charlotte pushed and shoved and twisted her face away from him.
“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this,” she moaned, her voice wretched. “Not like this.”
Not like this.
Whimpered with such sorrow that it gave him pause.
He hated himself in that moment, for playing the brute.
But he felt as if he’d lost something, something he’d had but briefly, not entirely, that had or could have meant much to him. Now it was gone.
Filled with disgust, Reid punched the wall near her head and demanded, “Are ye nae willing to whore yourself for your cause?”
Charlotte shook her head, her hair scraping against his jaw before she lifted her face to his. Tears glistened gold on her cheeks, courtesy of the torchlight. She smacked at his chest, her strike listless, anguished. “I have no cause. And I know you won’t hurt me.”
Dropping her head to his chest, she continued, her words muffled between them. “I have no cause, none but to go home.” Again, she raised her shiny eyes to him. “Unless...unless you give me a reason to stay. Kiss me because you want to, because you want my kiss, but not...not to punish me. I haven’t lied to you, Reid. I have no secrets. I won’t pretend I don’t want you to kiss me or that I...or that I don’t want more from you. If you won’t or can’t believe me, then go. Lock me up and do what you will. But don’t force yourself on me so that I hate you.” She blinked and another tear spilled down her cheek. “If... Reid, if youwantto believe me that I’m telling you the truth, if youhopeto God you’re wrong about me, then kiss me properly. Kiss me becauseyou want to.” She paused, waiting, and when he said nothing, she begged in a whisper, “Kiss me, Reid.”
“Damn ye, Charlotte,” he cursed before lowering his head again.
Chapter Nineteen
Charlotte understood something critical about Reid. No matter how fierce his emotions, how deeply the battle raged inside him, he would never truly hurt her. She had sensed this truth from the very beginning, even if she hadn’t been able to explain it to herself until now. The man behind the storm of rage was not capable of cruelty toward her.
If she didn’t know and believe that, she would not have pleaded with him to kiss her now.
Sadly, however, while she was assured that Reid would never harm her, she also knew that she didn’t stand a snowballs’ chance in hell of swaying him to suddenly believe her innocent of what he charged her, certainly not with her body. No matter how powerful was their attraction to each other, she couldn’t expect it alone to shatter the wall of distrust he’d built around himself. She wished, more than anything, that she might sway his opinion, might make him see her for who she truly was. But she understood, with a sinking heart, that desire and connection wouldn’t be enough to erase the suspicion that still clouded his judgment.
This then, what she was about now, was selfishly, just for her. She wanted to be loved by Reid, if only for tonight.
Boldly, Charlotte stood on tip toe and joined her mouth to his, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue. His gentled kiss was as wildly arousing as the whiskey growl of his harsh voice. It was ridiculously satisfying to kiss him, to feel him, to imagine she had some power, some allure that he could not fight. From the beginning, as much as she embraced her attraction to Reid, he fought his desire to her. Part of her was greedily pleased that a man of so much strength and control couldn’t resist her. Part of her was a slave to his touch and her own rampant desire, thusexperiencing immense power and incredible weakness at the same time.
Reid quickly took control of the kiss, and Charlotte reveled in the urgency she felt in him. She lifted her arms and twined her hands into his hair, drawing him down, closer to her. She tipped her head and offered her lips and tongue, her rising urgency matching his own.
He applied his tongue and swept it round hers, and Charlotte’s knees buckled a bit. But Reid was there to catch her, his embrace firm, keeping her steady while she suddenly felt weightless.
He branded her with his kiss.
Oh, his kiss.
It was possessive and wild, desire given free rein, and Charlotte wanted every bit of it, of him.
“I ache for you, Reid,” she murmured against his lips. That’s what it was. An ache. An always-present ache for him, one she’d known almost since the day she’d met him.
