The pulse visible in the pale column of her neck vibrated faster, her intoxicating scent washed over him, and he was dizzy with lust. Even through his mail and gambeson, he could feel her womanly curves crushed against his hard chest. He uncurled his fingers from her throat and ran the tough leather of his palm’s mitten along her neck and to the enticing curve of her shoulder. He nudged her mantle an inch, exposing skin. He cursed that his hand was covered in mail. How long had he wanted to taste, to touch her precious skin? Unable to resist, he bent and, with his tongue, touched, tasted the heat of the skin on her collarbone. Oh, Christ, she was lovely. She shivered, and satisfaction roared through him.
Angela Quarles, Must Love Chainmail
historical-romance, knight, medieval-time-travel-romance, wales