Wild Men of Alaska 02 - Moosed-Up

where her blouse had fallen. Her breasts were perfect. Small, rounded, and perky with extended rosy nipples. His hand cupped her breast, while his heart swelled with something that made his breath hard to catch.
    What was she doing to him?
    “Lynx?”
    He took in her beauty and knew deep within his soul she was the one for him. This pixie of a woman had somehow, with her sharp tongue and dar ing spirit, captured his heart.
    How did something like that happen in so short a time?
    He remembered the telling of his parents’ short courtship. How his dad had taken one look at his mom and absconded with her. From that moment on there had been no other woman for Fox Maiski Sr. She’d remained the love of his life until his untimely death when Lynx had been nineteen.
    “Lynx?” Eva called his name again. “Are you okay?”
    No, he wasn’t. He was falling in love with a woman who could easily break his heart and destroy him. A woman who didn’t understand all there was to know about him and when she did, she’d probably hightail it right back to her former life in the lower forty-eight.
    He had to stop that from happening. Somehow he needed to bind her to him. The only way he knew to do that was to follow his animal instincts.
    They’d saved his sorry ass many a time.
    He lifted her right off her feet, carrying her into the house, and kicking the door shut with his boot. It felt powerful to be on the inside of her door. Her legs came up and circled his hips, and he nearly hit the floor. There wasn’t much between him and her besides his jeans and the laughable barrier of her panties. He could feel her heat pressing into him as she ground herself against his erection.
    “Bed,” he growled.
    “Second door on the left.” She tightened her arms around him and held on, her lips nibbling down his neck.
    He tumbled her onto the bed, her skirt riding up, showing a flash of more lavender lace.

Chapter Eleven

    Eva caught her breath at the predatory look in Lynx’s eyes.
    He’d gone from perplexed, to worry, to decision. And his decision had gooseflesh rising up all over her body.
    He stood at the end of the bed and never broke eye contact . S prawled on the blankets , she didn't breathe as he untie d his boot s and toed them off. She wanted to smooth the skirt down her legs from where it was bunched on her upper thighs, but was almost afraid to move, worried that if she did, he’d pounce.
    She thought she’d been ready to be taken, but by the sweet, thoughtful man who had brought her chocolate, and picked her wildflowers.
    This man was someone different.
    Wild, hot, unpredictable, looking a lot like the feral arctic cat he was named after. He was so far out of her realm of experience, for the first time in her life she didn’t know what to do.
    Her eyes widened as he jerked his t-shirt off, and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, taking his plaid boxers off with his pants, leaving him completely naked at the end of her bed.
    Oh, she was in trouble .
    He was glorious... and huge.
    His penis pulsed forward, thick and long, and fear strangled her excitement. There was no freaking way. He’d render her in two.
    She scrambled up the bed, but he grabbed her ankles and yanked her back down, holding her spread out before him. He growled, and she let out startled squeak, feeling like a mouse caught in the clutches of a cat. A thrill she didn’t want to put a name to strangled her vocal cords and had her breathing in short, choppy bursts of air.
    He stripped off her skirt in one yank, leaving her wearing only the thong, and strappy heels. His eyes blazed amber at the thin, lacy, thong she wore. A raw, inhuman sound traveled up his chest and vibrated out his throat. He crawled up her body, all six feet and three inches of him. Toffee smooth skin, swathed over rock-hard muscle, caged her on the bed. His considerable weight pinned her to the mattress. Her hands came up to push against his immovable chest, to no avail. She might as well be pushing against a concrete dam.
    He settled in the apex of her thighs, his hands grabbed her legs spreading them farther apart for the breadth of his hips.
    She braced herself for what was to come. The little piece of lace that covered her wouldn’t bar his penetration. His fingers tore the lace in two at her hips. The friction of lace grazed her clitoris in a long delicious abrasion as he slowly pulled it free of her body. Her legs clenched around him, her hands falling away from