Page 49 of The Blue Viking

She, on the other hand, yearned for a destiny with a man who would stay with her for all time. And that man was not and never would be this born-to-swive Viking.

He was good at this seduction business, though. After years of practice, he knew just which words to say to a woman to melt her heart. Good thing Maire was impervious to his charm.

Well, somewhat impervious.

Well, at least she was aware of his devious nature and slick tongue.

She might not be able to fight him off physically, but she must gird herself not to fall prey to his allure.

As he leaned over her where she lay in the bed, he stared unabashedly at her nude body. She gritted her teeth and tried to count the rafters in the ceiling overhead. Anything to keep her mind off what the scoundrel was about to do… anything to keep herself uninvolved. The room was dreary and barely light, with rain pounding down on the rooftop. And she knew … she just knew … it was going to be a very long day.

“You have beautiful skin, Maire …’tis like sweet cream.” Rurik did not touch her as he spoke. Instead, he lay on his side, propped on one elbow as he continued to examine her naked form. That hard, male part of him that she refused to look at poked her in the hip.

“You have beautiful skin,” Maire mimicked him in a deliberately deep voice. “Spare me the insincere compliments, Viking. You know what you want. I know what you want. I’m tired of trying to convince you to be honorable about this, and it’s obvious you could overpower me with a flick of your wrist. Let’s just get it over with.” She grabbed for his member and attempted to pull him atop her.

Rurik let out a howl of anguish and peeled her tight fingertips off of himself, cursing Norse expletives the whole time. He was now kneeling aside her stillreclining form, inspecting himself with a total lack of modesty. When he was satisfied that he would survive, Rurik grumbled at her, “Are you daft, wench? I swear you have left bruises on me. Has no one ever told you to handle a man’s part with utmost gentleness?”

“Actually, no.” Maire should have experienced at least a twinge of guilt over the obvious pain she’d caused, but she could not summon a speck of remorse. The lecherous brute deserved all she had done and more.

Rurik narrowed his eyes at her, as if he sensed her glee. “Turn over,” he ordered.

“What? Why?” It was she who narrowed her eyes at him now. “You’re not going to spank me, are you?”

His eyes widened with surprise, then he threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it… Mayhap later, if you ask me nicely.”

“Ask you … ask you …?” she sputtered.

But he had already flipped her over so that she was on her stomach, her face pressed into the pillow.

“For now, I have other things in mind,” he informed her smoothly.

“Like what?” she demanded, raising herself on extended arms and trying to peer back over her shoulder.

He shoved her back down and put a hand on the middle of her back to hold her there. “Sweetling, I intend to explore every single part of your body … back and front. By the time night falls again, I will know everything there is to know about you, from scalp to toe and every niche and cavity in between.”

Niche? Cavity? Her heart stopped for a second, then began beating again at a more rapid pace. Heat infused her, and not just her face; she suspected that her skin was turning pink all over her body.

“Have you naught to say about that, witch? Have I for once struck you speechless?”

“Why?” was all that came out of her mouth and that in a strangled whisper.

“Because I want to.”

She couldn’t see him with her cheek pressed to hands folded on the pillow and she couldn’t tell by the tone of his voice whether he was serious, or jesting. “Are you grinning?” she asked, unable to control her curiosity.

“Widely.”

“This is just a game you play with me … a game of torture. Isn’t it?”

“Yea, ’tis just that. Sexual torture. The best kind.”

Maire should have known he would give a perverted answer like that. She resolved then not to ask any more questions.

He moved her hair aside so that her nape was bare. Then, for a long time, he did not touch her or speak. The only sounds in the room were those of the rain and Rurik’s heavy breathing. Or was it hers? She held her breath for a long time, just in case. Eventually she had to release it in a whooshy exhale.

She thought he might have chuckled softly. Leastways, she felt something move against her shoulder blades, like warm air. This waiting was driving her nigh insane, but she would not… could not… ask the brute to get on with things. That would indicate an eagerness she did not feel.

Finally, she felt the lightest touch … probably a forefinger … trailing a path from her neck, down her spine, over the crevice at her buttocks, between her thighs and calves, across the back of one knee, then skimming the bottom of first one foot, then the other. The sensation was light as a summer breeze but so intensely erotic that Maire felt as if he’d lit a trail of fire. She had to clench her fists and bite her bottom lip to restrain herself from jerking or crying out.