Here’s a snippet from THE WOLF WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD in the VIKINGS WILD antho.
Rig was sweating. Tear a diplomat a new asshole? Not a problem. Chase down an assassin? All in a day’s work.
Kiss the right woman? His fingers trembled.
In a split second, he had to make a command decision. Soft and gentle, working his way over to her lips? Strong and commanding, pushing forward, engines at full?
She pushed up onto her toes and took conscious choice away from him.
Mirea was tiny, a mere handful to him. He bent at the knees to meet her, and scooped her up with an arm under her ass. No groping, no squeezing. He needed to know her taste before any of that.
And her taste was exquisite. Honey, as he expected. Everything about her reminded him of encompassing sweetness, but there was something else about her that was dark and rich with a little spicy heat. Her soft lips opened under pressure and her slight moan passed between them.
Tiny, delicate hands settled on his shoulders and slid to his neck. He’d have thought such small fingers would tickle, but her touch wasn’t tentative in the least. She glided her hands firmly to his jaw, spurring him on.
He responded, sliding one hand up her spine until his fingers were buried in her warm, sweet-smelling hair. With a simple bend of his wrist, he guided her head to the side, giving him more room to move her where he wanted her.
Rig demanded more. He moved his tongue to taste and found it dueling with hers. He pushed forward, needing to be inside, devouring her mouth, giving her a taste of what was to come.
But she didn’t simply take, she gave back by swirling her tongue around his and sucking control away from him. The sensation shot through him, and his cock was harder than it had ever been. Fuck. He was losing his mind over this little human. And he still had an assassin to torture… interrogate… ask polite questions.