Why the hell am I so nervous? Harper thought, trying to get her shaking under some semblance of control as she led her big, bad Viking werewolf into her cottage.

He followed her quietly, as obediently as a puppy, and the mental image almost had her giggling aloud. Except, when she turned her head to look back at him, the raw intent on his face stole her breath.

His eyes were alive with radiance, staring at her unblinking, his mouth slightly parted as if he had lost any capability of rational speech. His wolf was present, in the sharpness of his features, the bristling of his entire body straining against the fabric of his shirt. She knew that he, like many shifters, tended to wear clothes that were a little large on them, to accommodate sudden shifts, but he was obviously straining the seams of his clothing. His hand convulsively clung to hers, flexing as his claws threatened to emerge, and yet despite the palpable, crackling aura of wild power raging around him, Harper had never felt safer.

Indeed, that wild energy sparking off his body and into hers only made her burn hotter. It was like she fed off it. She wanted to revel in it, let him surround her with his strength, while she surrounded and protected him.

Harper already knew she would go Wickedest Witch of the Whole Wide World if anyone even looked at him the wrong way. It was a dangerous, heady feeling, finding that one person you would sacrifice anything to protect, do anything to make them happy. It was intoxicating in all the best and worst ways. He was addictive, and they'd only just kissed.

No sooner had Bard used his foot to close the door behind them, Harper found herself swept up in his arms like some maiden in a fairy tale. Holy shit, she was living out one of her romance novels! Cue swooning!

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Harper opened her mouth to offer a protest, to say something about her weight, but from the intense look on his face, she quickly snapped her lips shut.

No! Bad Harper! Don't say anything and ruin this! You're living out one of your deepest, darkest fantasies!

"Bed?" Bard grunted, apparently having gone completely monosyllabic.

Leaning up, she nipped at his bearded jaw, making him stumble slightly as she whispered, "Upstairs, loft."

The man...er, wolf, werewolf, whatever... moved quicker than a greased pig struck by lightning. Harper had barely had enough time to gasp before she found herself placed with surprising gentleness on the bed, caged in beneath his massive body. His large hands were firmly placed on either side of her head, his thick thighs placed on either side of hers.

When he ran his nose up along the column of her throat, the sensation of his beard tickling her skin had her squirming almost as much as the heat of his body pressing against hers. The rumbling groan of pleasure he gave, as his lips grazed up along her jaw, echoed through his chest. She could feel herself drowning in the sound, in the feel of him, in her need for the beast that wanted to mark her, claim her, and be her mate. Hers.

Clawing at his shirt, Harper whimpered, straining up against him, desperate to feel his flesh against hers. "Bard," she released a low whine, "Please...need to feel you."

Leaping off of her, off the bed entirely, he landed without a sound on his large, booted feet beside the bed. His chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths, as he reached up to tear his shirt off.

Yep, just like that. He tore his shirt off. Seams snapped apart, buttons flew, and his claws left ragged strips of flannel dangling from his wide shoulders.

It happened in movies all the time, but Harper had never actually witnessed it in person. Seeing the expanse of his huge, muscular torso flexing smoothly as he tore the fabric with all the ease of shredding paper, Harper couldn't help but feel both awe and a staggering amount of pure lust as she drank in the sight of him.

His chest was completely smooth, except for a faint hint of pale golden hairs leading a teasing trail from his belly button down to disappear into his pants. She had seen him bare-chested just hours ago, sweaty and flexing in the early morning sun, but seeing it now, knowing she could reach out and touch it...wait, why wasn't she touching it?

Scrambling up on to her hands and knees, Harper hesitantly reached out, her fingertips grazing his bare, heated flesh. Instantly, he pressed his chest fully into her hand, his impressive pectorals swelling as he inhaled and tilted his head back, releasing his breath in a throaty groan.

Encouraged by his reaction, Harper slowly explored his torso, letting her hands smooth over his taut flesh, down over his flexing pecs until her fingers could tease the tight, hard nubs of his dusky pink nipples. Yep, they were pink, not bright or shocking, but against his fair skin, they drew her attention, particularly when his entire body seemed to spasm as she grazed them with her nails.

Interesting!

Before she could investigate further, however, Bard quickly stepped back, out of her reach.

Panting, his eyes blazing, he spoke, his voice gravelly and jagged with raw need. "Please, darling...take off...your clothes." Squeezing his eyes shut, his hands fisting and unfisting at his sides, he continued brokenly, "Afraid...I'll...claw you. Don't want to...ever hurt you. But wolf..."

"I'm not afraid," Harper said with all the certainty she knew bone-deep. Rising up to her knees, she slowly unlaced the sides of her pullover. God, he made her wanton and raw, brazen and needy. It was a rush!

"Watch me," she whispered.

His eyes snapped open, fixating on her with a predator's focus. Feeling her lips curve, she slowly slid her top off over her head.

Okay, so it was a little tough to be sexy when you're blinding by fabric, tugging it off without letting your hair get tangled, feeling your body exposed in all its flawed not-so-glory. Especially when first revealing yourself to the one whose opinion could destroy you.

Finally tugging the sweater over her head, she tossed it aside and resisted the urge to cover her lingerie-clad breasts, feeling more exposed than she could ever remember being. Then she turned and caught the awed look on his face and all her doubts and anxieties washed away; replaced by a desire to see that expression on his face often.

He reached out a hesitant hand, drawing a claw with surprising gentleness over the lacy edge of the sapphire silk and black lace bra that cupped her aching breasts. This time, she was the one that thrust into his touch, pressing into the palm of his large, calloused palm as he teased her flesh.

Clearing the gravel from his throat, Bard looked up from her heaving chest, his face tight as he cupped her breast, gauging her expression as he palmed nearly her entire breast in his huge, calloused hand.

A slow smile spread across his face as he shrugged out of the torn remnants of his shirt. He seemed to be drawing strength from her responses, regaining some of his self-control, as his deep voice was more controlled when he said, "Darling, if you wear stuff like this often, we may need to invest in stock for the company..."

Okay, figures he'd regain his ability to speak when she'd lost hers. Harper was having problems remembering her own name at the moment, as his warm hand caressed her breast, her nipples stimulated by the press of the fabric and sending jolts through her, once more making her squirm with need.

She moistened suddenly dry lips, reaching out to grip his arms for support as she struggled to clear her mind. She had a response to that comment, she really did! But then the wolf-bastard leaned in and wrapped his lips around her nipple; flicking the nub through the silky fabric as he dampened it with his tongue, teasing her with brief nips of his fangs as he worked her into a throbbing, aching mess of neediness.

Coherent thought was gone! Out the window! Like her morals! Yep, Harper gladly succumbed to her inner Jezebel as both Southern Belle and Bitch Queen swooned!

She dug her nails into the dense muscles on his thick shoulders, but he didn't even flinch. Instead, he just guided her back unto the mattress, his hands sliding around her waist to grip her hips as he moved his lips to the other breast, ensuring it too received appropriate adoration.

All Harper could do was moan incoherently; entangling one hand around the back of his head as she pressed up against him, hooking a leg around his slim waist to keep him from drawing away.

He quickly figured out the fastener, particularly since Harper tended to prefer ones that fastened in front, although she only realized this when the molten heat of his mouth engulfed her exposed left nipple; while his hand gently, tenderly, and tauntingly teased the other with only the barest grazes of his circling thumb.

Whimpering. Harper was pretty sure she was whimpering. When his moist, hot tongue began lavishing a moist trail down over the curve of her belly, his hands sliding down over her hips, his claws pricking her skin through the thick denim of her jeans, she was definitely whimpering!

Clenching her fingers around the metallic band holding his hair securely back into a ponytail, she struggled with it for a few moments before she was able to figure out how it was locked. Tugging it free, she let it drop as she dug both hands into his freed, thick hair. He buried his face in her stomach, groaning as she scrubbed her fingers through the long, silken locks.

"Mmmm, don't stop doing that," he panted against her stomach before his teeth locked around the button of her jeans and, with a growled yank of his head, tore them open.

Raising her head, she met his glowing gaze over the swell of her breasts, could see the determination etched into his face as he used just the movement of his head and his firm grip on her hips to completely unfasten her jeans.

Lifting his weight from between her parted thighs, he hooked his fingers in the loosened waistband of her pants, effortlessly sliding them down her hips. Finding his ultimate objective impeded by her boots, however, he gave a grunt of frustration.

Rising to his knees, looking both determined and dangerous, backed up off the bed. Leaning down, he unzipped first one boot then the other, pulling them off gently before tossing them aside. Then, meeting her gaze, he gave her a charmingly boyish grin, grabbed her jeans and yanked them off like a magician with a growled, "Violà!"

For some reason, Harper found that hilarious. Collapsing back on the bed, giggling helplessly, she couldn't resist as he once more crawled back up over her, his massive body looming as he looked down at her.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?"

Nodding, Harper admitted, "Yeah, sorry. Sorry!"

When his clawed fingers teasingly stroked along her ribs, unerringly discovering her most ticklish spots, Harper tried to wriggle away, to escape the demon wolf. Slapping her hands against his immovable chest, she cried out between giggles and gasps of dismay, "No! Noooo! Sorry, sorry! Please, don't..."

He silenced her with a deep, probing kiss. Capturing her lips, he nipped at her lower lip as his hands stroked down to curl around her ass, holding her still as he lowered his weight once more between her thighs.

Although she was still wearing a scrap of silk and he still had his jeans on, she could feel the weight of his arousal, the throbbing heat of it as it came to rest against her most sensitive parts. The movement of his hips, that slow, purposeful grind of his thick length against her, had her groaning into his mouth, her hands clutching at his bared back as she hooked her legs around his. She needed him closer, still needed more.

Stroking her hands down his back, clutching at his muscular ass...God Bless, is he carved of marble? Before she could do much more than appreciate just how solidly built he was, however, he was suddenly nuzzling his way down her chest, kissing a damp trail between her heavy breasts, over her belly, until he was shouldering his way between her thighs.

She knew the ladylike thing to do would be to protest, to speak up and tell him that he didn't have to do that.

Fuck that.

"Please, Bard...yes, please..." She begged, once more sliding her fingers through his hair as he buried his face against her panty-clad pussy and growled long, low, and deep.

Holy shit! She about came then and there, the vibration of his growling lips as his tongue pressed against her labia through the sheer silk. She could feel the heat of his tongue, the pressure as he slid it languidly up the length until he could locate her clit and then capture the tender nub with the briefest of sharp nips.

Harper didn't hear the sound of his claws slicing through the silk, but as she suddenly felt his warm breath gusting over her exposed labia, she managed a strangled yelp.

"Your scent," his voice was dark, rumbling as he nuzzled her inner thigh, dragging his nose up over her body until he could bury his face in the trimmed curls over her sex. "Fuck, darling...you smell so fucking sweet, so damned good."

Those words only made her hotter, wetter. Her brain was short-circuiting, unable to do more than just feel.

Then the big bad wolf began to feast.