Viking's Fury
“Grown men didn’t sneak glances at beautiful women while they were changing. Untried boys did things like that. Grown men told their women that they wanted to watch them, grown men undressed them with their gaze boldly and purposefully, while within full view of their women.
But he couldn’t help it.
He’d had his hands all over her curves and the way she’d responded to him had his recently thawed brain much too hot to concentrate on anything but her.
Shit, he had to get his head in the game. Their lives depended on it.
The worst part about it was he knew that she’d give him whatever he desired. Even if she wasn’t just paying a debt or finding some way to feel like she’d done her part—he was sure from the way she kissed him that she wanted him.
Only—and he never thought he’d say this and, if he had to say it out loud, he’d swear that it was the freezing sickness talking, but—he didn’t want just a fuck. Not some mechanical chore, even if the outcome was pleasure.
He wanted a connection.
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