Page 76 of The Caged Viking

“Isn’t it time for you to rest your tongue,” he countered, “unless it is in my mouth. Then it can definitely move.”

“Seems to me that you’re the one with a whole lot of talk and a lot less action.”

“A challenge?” He grinned and made a growling sound against her neck.

She laughed, especially because his breath tickled her ear. “Should I be afraid?”

“Very afraid.”

Every Viking wanted to get the last word in, and Kirstin was a Viking, no matter her gender. So, not to be outdone, she said, “I can’t wait.”

Hauk smiled then, slow and lazy and supremely sexy before he raised his hips and surprised her by thrusting himself into her, to the hilt. No foreplay. No warning. Just “Go in and go big.” Especially big.

Kirstin realized that she’d stepped into his trap.

Beware the virile Viking.

Chapter 17

Not his most shining moment, or was it?…

Oops! Hauk thought on finding himself imbedded in Kirstin’s moist depths.

Without one bit of foresport on my part!

Like an untried youthling!

“Oops” was the word Kirstin used when she accidentally did something, wasn’t it?

But Hauk wasn’t about to admit to that kind of mistake, not out loud. He smiled and pretended it had been a deliberate action. Thankfully, Kirstin’s female channel had been ready for him, melting around him like molten honey.

He almost said something embarrassing, like, “Loki made me do it,” but then he noticed the expression on his wife’s face. Wide-eyed with wonder.

Well, praise the gods and pass the mead! Apparently he’d done something right, without even intending to. That would be a good “oops,” he supposed.

It took every bit of his self-control to remain still, the instinct to begin the age-old thrusting rhythm almost overwhelming. He bit his bottom lip to the point of nearly breaking the skin and tried to think of other things, like turnips, which he considered a gagsome vegetable, or riding a longship during a fierce sea storm, or waking after a night of drinking in the bed furs of an ugly, wart-nosed, gray-haired woman. Not that he had ever experienced the latter, but many of his friends had. The skalds told sagas about such lamebrained men.

But then, Kirstin moaned with pleasure, breaking into his reverie.

And Hauk tasted blood.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said breathlessly.

I wasn’t either. “’Tis one of my talents.”

“You have a lot of those, do you?”

Oh, gods! She is going to talk now! “Do you doubt it?”

“Not for a Viking minute. Wanna see one of mine?”

Is she serious? What kind of question is that to ask a Viking man, especially one who is knee-deep, rather cock-deep, in enthusiasm? “Mayhap.” Perchance a one-word answer would halt her chatter.

Which it did, except that now she did something with her inner muscles, causing them to flex, several times, which caused him to move a little bit deeper inside. Who knew that was even possible? His eyes were probably rolling back in his head. “What was that?” he choked out.

“That was my va-jay-jay saying ‘Howdy’ to your happy tail.”

He had no idea what those words meant, specifically, but he suspected they were bawdy names for body parts, and that “Howdy” was a word of welcome. The blush that emerged on her face confirmed his suspicion.