Page 90 of The Outlaw Viking

A short time later, she awakened him, having returned with a huge platter of cold mutton, chunks of hard cheese and manchet bread, and two goblets of Gyda’s ale. Although he protested once again that he was not hungry, he ate every bit of food she pushed on him.

“This ale tastes bitter,” he complained.

“It’s probably just an aftertaste from the spices Gyda put on the meat.”

She was, no doubt, right. Gyda did use a heavy hand in the seasoning of her foods. When he finished every drop of the bitter ale, he lunged for Rain and pulled her back to the pallet with him. Nuzzling her neck, he growled, “Now where did I leave off?”

Rain laughed, then pretended to ponder his question with great seriousness. He took advantage of her pause to untie the cord of her tunic and lift the garment up over her head. She wore only the wispy, flesh-colored undergarments, which were no covering at all.

Displaying none of her usual self-consciousness over her body, she knelt before him, her face suddenly somber. “Selik, I love you. No, don’t get that bullheaded look on your face. I do, I love you, and—and no matter what happens, I want you to remember that.”

Her words touched him in a cold, long-hidden place deep inside him, and the honey of her love flowed over him. His heart expanded almost to the point of bursting, and his whole being filled with a haze of wanting. Not the blood-churning, wall-banging passion he had felt on occasion when deeply aroused, but a gentle, excruciatingly intense heightening of the senses that threatened to splinter his soul.

“Touch me,” he whispered. “Please…just touch me.”

And she did.

With slow, exquisitely slow care, Rain used her fingertips and palms, her lips and teeth, her warm breath and hot toes, her long legs and lace-cupped breasts to worship every inch of his body. Every time he tried to touch her in return or catch her lips in a kiss, she evaded his efforts. “No, let me.”

All of Selik’s thoughts centered on his arousal as he felt his defenses slipping closer and closer to the edge. When she started to remove her sheer undergarments, he stopped her, finally gaining some semblance of control.

“Nay, dearling, we will not be making love.”

Rain lifted her chin in stubborn rebellion. “What do you call what we’re doing?”

He smiled at her quick perception. “Playing.”

“Don’t think you can detract me by flashing one of your devastating smiles.”

He smiled even wider. “My smiles are devastating? I had not realized. I will have to practice more, I suppose, now that I know their lethal powers.”

Rain jabbed him in the ribs. “Why did you say we wouldn’t be making love?”

“I meant that there will be no consummation,” he said, suddenly serious.

“Why?”

Oh, Lord! Now what do I say? I cannot tell her the truth. She would no doubt say she did not care if I gave her my seed. And in a moment of weakness, I might relent.

You could lie.

What? I thought lying was a sin—one of your ten commandments.

Well, sometimes I allow for a little flexibility.

Forcing his face into a bland mask, Selik held Rain’s chin in his grasp, demanding her attention, “There is a good reason why I will not penetrate you, Rain. I may engage in battle on the morrow, and I cannot risk weakening my body with consummation. ’Tis the way of many warriors,” he lied, almost choking on the words.

Rain nodded hesitantly in understanding.

“But that is not to say a warrior cannot relish a bit of pleasure,” he said with a laugh. Before she had a chance to react, he lifted her by the waist and set her astraddle his hips. All that separated her sheath from his sword were the thin fabrics of his loin cloth and her lacy woman’s undergarment. Enough, he hoped.

Then he folded his hands behind his head and demanded, “Now, I want you to create some memories for me to take with me on the morrow.” They may have to last me forever.

Rain’s eyes filled with tears, as if she understood. Everything took on a clean brightness then. Like a cleansing summer breeze, her essence surrounded and enveloped him. He was dead inside, and Rain radiated a vitality he craved.

When her lips moved to but a hairsbreadth from his, he urged in a thick whisper, “Say the words again. One more time.”

She knew, without questioning, what words he referred to.