“I’m working here,” she murmured, flashing a reprimand at him from under her lashes.

He caught her arms and rolled her under him, his knee inside her thigh, pushing her legs apart. “So am I.” His voice was harsh with need. “I’m starving and I want to eat you up.”

He did just that, lifting her hips and dragging her to him, lowering his head so he could devour her. She screamed, a loud cry of bliss as his tongue plunged deep and drew the cinnamon honey he craved from her body. It was warm and thick, like molasses and he found himself growling like the wolf he was, ravenous for her. He held her firmly as her body tried to roll and buck.

“Be still,” he ordered harshly, when he could find a moment to speak.

When she didn’t comply with his order, he smacked her bottom to get her attention. Her nerve endings fired with passion, more delicious honey spilling into his mouth. He couldn’t resist trying it again and again, and each time he got the same results, more of what he needed. Each time the honey was hotter and spicier, the taste more delicious than ever. He licked at her scorching sheath, and then nuzzled her, inhaling her perfect scent. He couldn’t resist taking little nips up her inner thigh, tiny teasing bites that had flames of desire licking up her legs.

He moved over top of her, catching her wrists, pinning them over her head so he could look down at her body, sprawled beneath his larger one. Her breath came in ragged gasps so that her breasts heaved and moved invitingly—temptingly. He leaned down and captured the left one, drawing the soft mound into the heat of his mouth.

She moaned softly, her body rippling as his tongue stroked her nipple, and then he suckled strongly. Her head thrashed. Her hips rose beneath him. It was all music, part of the night. He loved the sounds she made and the way her body was so ultra-responsive to everything he did to her.

He kissed his way over the creamy curve of her breast to find her pulse beating so wildly—so temptingly. He heard the answering beat deep in his own veins and without warning, without preamble, he sank his teeth deep. She cried out, sobbed, lifted her hips and writhed. She tried to lift her arms to circle his head and hold him to her, but he held her helpless, enjoying bringing her so much pleasure. He felt it in her mind, her need rising like a volcano.

He drank her essence, taking her into his body, that same spicy taste just as addictive. He wanted to be the wolf and eat her up. There was something so beautiful in her face, in her glowing body as she lay beneath him, her pleas growing more desperate as her need intensified.

When he had taken his fill, he gripped her wrists hard and looked into her eyes. “Stay still, just like this.” He leaned down and kissed her mouth, that beautiful mouth he wanted to spend a lifetime playing in and kissing and loving.

“I don’t think I can,” she admitted a little desperately.

He licked down her ear and nipped at her chin. “Then I’ll help you. Because this is for me. I want to drive you insane and watch you catch fire. We’re safe here. There’s no forest to burn down. I can light a match and watch you burn.”

As she lay there, vines rushed from the ground and circled her arms, forming two long sleeves that went from wrist to bicep.

“There you go, mon chaton féroce. There is no moving when I want you still.” He sat up and ran his hand possessively down her body from breast to belly, splaying his fingers wide to take in as much of her skin as possible. “I can take my time with you. You can scream to your heart’s content and your body can go up in flames over and over and no one will interrupt us.”

He smiled down at her shocked expression, watching the flames in her eyes grow even brighter. More cinnamon honey spilled from her body. More than anything, the faith in her for him, the trust she had, excited him. She gave herself into his keeping, knowing he would bring her only pleasure—and he intended to do just that.

“I’m wolf, Branka. Wolves are often rough, bordering on brutal. But I touch you with love. And I’d never want to harm you. Tell me to stop if you don’t like something.”

“Fortunately for you, I like the way you love me. I like rough, bordering on brutal. If I don’t like something, you’ll hear about it fast,” she assured. “And, Zev, I know you would never harm me.”

She killed him with her soft seductive voice, with the thrash of her body and the bucking of her hips as if she couldn’t wait for him. Deliberately she spread her thighs for him. Opening herself for him. Silently begging him for more. For anything.

He laughed softly. “You’re so eager, my love. Let’s just see what fun I can have with you.” He rose over top of her, on his hands and knees, moving up until he was nearly on her head. His cock felt heavy with need, his sac sliding sensuously over her breast and bumping her chin. Using one hand, he wrapped his fist around his shaft and brought the head to her lips.

“I dream of you sucking me dry. That beautiful mouth of yours wrapped tightly around me, so tight like a hot fist. I had that dream from the moment I laid eyes on you, your mouth so beautiful and tempting. I love you lying here beneath me, helpless, an offering. Mine.” He smeared droplets along the seam of her mouth. “Mine to play with, mine to love.”

Her tongue darted out and caught his offering. She licked at every last drop and then strained toward his cock. “Please,” she finally said, her eyes growing even brighter when he held himself just out of reach. Her body glowed even hotter.

He pushed into her mouth, sliding deep, groaning with bliss. He shared the feeling with her, mind to mind. She rewarded him with stroking his shaft with her tongue and then teasing at the sensitive spot beneath the flared head. He closed his eyes briefly, unable to believe that she was his. Everything in her reached for him. She gave herself wholly over to his care.

Love welled up, sharp and terrible and all encompassing. More, Branislava didn’t think about herself or her own needs when she attended to him. She focused solely on his pleasure. Her every move was filled with love and he couldn’t help but feel it in the eagerness she had each time they came together like this.

She gave a little cry of protest when he pulled out of her mouth and slid down her chest, between her breasts, his mouth nibbling at her chin as he slid farther down to her belly. He kissed and bit lightly, stimulating her body more, watching the fire growing hotter in her until the little sparks began to snap around them like fireflies in the night.

He loved that. Her passion. Her fire. He wanted her to have the chance to set the night on fire where nothing could get harmed. High up the snow-covered glacier, they were safe. Even if a tree caught fire, there was nothing else to burn, and he’d already made certain the foliage around them was safe.