A kiss, then I’m off. What could be easier?
She angled her chin up, closed her eyes, and pursed her lips.
She was prepared for the pressure of his mouth on hers. Instead, she felt his hand slide into her hair, his palm cradling the back of her head. Startled, she opened her eyes and saw the gleam in his as he lowered his head. She’d expected his kiss to match his exterior—to be rough and uncivilized—yet he subverted her expectations again.
His lips hovered over hers. While their mouths did not touch, the warm pulse of his breath made her lips tingle. Tension burgeoned between them, her heart hammering.
What is he waiting for?
His warm, masculine scent entered her nostrils and caused her to swallow reflexively. He smelled clean, with a hint of salt and musk, a welcome change from the pungent colognes preferred by most gentlemen. She was acutely aware of his hold on her and his looming strength. He could overpower her so easily. While she ought to have panicked at the realization, instead she felt a strange thrill. Her instincts told her he would not hurt her. He could, but he would not, and the recognition allowed her to melt into the moment.
She swayed, steadying herself with a hand against his chest. Beneath the steely bulge of his pectoral muscle, his heart was a fierce beat beneath her palm. The primal rhythm made her aware of the places where she was throbbing…the tips of her breasts and low in her belly. Startled, she jerked her hand back, her thumb accidentally grazing the flat nub of his nipple. His low growl made her tremble. She parted her lips to draw a breath, and in that instant, he claimed her mouth.
Claimed was the apt word, for she felt owned by this marauder’s kiss. While he wasn’t forceful, he was persuasive, his mouth learning the contours of hers with a confidence that blurred her thoughts. His kiss was hard yet tender, everything she hadn’t known a kiss could be. His firm lips explored her while his grip in her hair held her in place. When he swept his tongue inside her mouth, she stopped thinking entirely.
The bold penetration set off a fusillade of pleasure. Sparks scattered over her skin, heat rushed in her veins, and her limbs shook as he enjoyed her mouth with masterful intention. His flavor saturated her senses—smoky and male, with a hint of unexpected sweetness…cinnamon. He was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted, and she wanted more. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his.
His growl reverberated down her throat, setting her insides aquiver. He deepened the kiss, demanding her participation. He licked inside her mouth, and it was so slick and hot and wonderful that she slid her tongue against his with growing confidence. Her senses whirled as he led the carnal dance. Never had she felt this alive, her entire being buzzing with desire…
“Christ, you make me hard.”
At his husky words, her eyes popped open. Awareness crashed through her. She was wrapped around the stranger like ivy: her arms were flung around his neck, her breasts squashed against the hard wall of his chest. He had one hand knotted in her hair, and the other was cupping her bottom. He gripped her derriere, pulling her tightly against him. Through her skirts, she felt a hard object jutting into her…
Heavens, that’s his?—
“My cock is harder than a pike for you,” he confirmed without a trace of embarrassment. “If we don’t stop soon, I’m going to have you—right here, against this bloody tree.”
His boldness plopped her back into reality. Horrified, she let go of his neck, shoving at his chest. She wasn’t strong enough to move him, which meant she was putting his honor to the test. If he failed to uphold his end of the bargain…
Frantic resolve filled her. If necessary, I’ll revert to my earlier plan?—
“Too much, too soon, sweetheart?”
He released her and stepped back, holding his hands up. Unbelievably, he winked at her. He was amused by her discombobulation.
She narrowed her eyes.
Well, pardon me for being unaccustomed to kissing a stranger in the woods.
He, on the other hand, was utterly at ease. Perhaps seducing unsuspecting females was a hobby of his. He stood with his feet planted apart, his hands on his hips, and he made no effort to hide the prominent ridge in his towel. Was he always this supremely confident and, some might say, arrogant? The smug curve of his lips suggested that he was used to things going his way.
Come to think of it, he’d lulled her into complacency with his proposal of a kiss. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the involvement of tongues, which surely put what they’d done in a different category than mere kissing. She didn’t think normal people kissed this way; certainly, none of her admirers had. And the way he’d gripped her bottom, grinding himself against her…
Her face burned as she thought of what she’d permitted.
Of what the Viking had tricked her into allowing.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t even give him a proper set-down since she was pretending she couldn’t talk. She had to settle for an annoyed huff. His sea-green eyes crinkled at the corners as if he found her fuming entertaining.
Get away, Gigi. Before more damage is done.
Her head held high, she walked past him. When he made no move to stop her, she told herself she was relieved. She’d almost made it to the woods when he called out to her.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time. Things were starting to get interesting.”
Pivoting, she risked a glance back. The man hadn’t moved, although his amusement had faded, replaced by a look of genuine regret…and something else. Something dark and feral. Something hungry.
She felt an answering flutter in her belly. Fear—that had to be it. Shivering, she shook off his snare and fled into the safety of the trees.
