She was warm in his arms. Warm and soft and she smelled like apples, rich spices, and woodsmoke. The dusting of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose contrasted sharply with her fair skin. The absurd urge to kiss every single one caught him in a chokehold, and he had to lock his neck in place to keep from bending low and brushing his lips across them. What the fuck is wrong with me?
