Page 72 of The Blue Viking

Pleasure Flute, Manroot,

Woman-Luck, Son-of-a-Duck,

Fancy Swiver, Nest Diver?

Ah, yes, man is a peculiar lot.

There was a stunned silence in their section of the hall before Maire regained the use of her tongue. “For shame, you men!” she choked out, mustering as much consternation as she could. “Not just you, Bolthor, but all you men. Speaking of such crude things amidst ladies!”

All the men glanced about self-consciously, as if they’d just noticed they were in mixed company. The groups began to disband and move about the hall to resume their tasks amidst much sniggering and outright laughter.

That was when Maire realized that while all this lewd conversation was going on, Rurik had somehow managed to snake his hand under the table, where his fingers had linked with hers and his thumb was drawing seductive circles on her palm. The message that his clear blue eyes transmitted to her was, “I want you.” She would guarantee that her traitorous eyes sent the same message back to him.

She averted her face, not wanting him to know how easily stimulated she was by him. She could not believe that she had allowed the man to take her against a wall this morning, in full daylight, on an open parapet. And she could not believe she had enjoyed it so much. Rurik had been forced to muffle her cries with his mouth.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rurik whispered against her ear.

How had he gotten so close to her? She swung her face around so quickly that she almost met him, lip to lip. He chuckled and drew away slightly.

“You … do… not!” she stated firmly. “Know what I am thinking, I mean.”

“Yea, I do, Maire.” He was back to circling her palm with his thumb, and she felt the caress all the way to the tips of her breasts and in her woman’s center.

She groaned softly.

He smiled softly.

“Dost think yourself a mind reader now, as well as a warrior?”

He shook his head, and licked his lips.

Belatedly, she realized that he was copying her very own gestures. Instinctively, her mouth had gone dry, just staring at the luscious lout, and she had darted a wet tongue over her lips. She hated that her emotions were so close to the surface and so easily read by him. Therefore, she could not explain why she knowingly stepped into his trap by asking, “What exactly do you think I am thinking?”

He gave her a smoldering look that translated to, Ah, Maire! I thought you’d never ask. But what he said was, “Your body carries my ‘mark’ in all the ways I promised that it would. When your gaze snags on my mouth, you recall the pleasure of my kisses. When I take my cup in hand, you see fingers that have played erotic songs on every part of your body. When I stand and my lower half becomes visible to you, you remember in vivid detail how it feels when I fill you.” He took a deep breath, then continued, “That, m’lady, is what you were thinking.”

“Your conceit knows no bounds, Viking,” she sputtered out. “And as to your ‘mark’ on me, is that what all of yesterday and last night was about… revenge? I know ’twas what you promised, but somehow I thought… I thought…” Maire couldn’t believe how hurt she was that she had been the only one so affected by their lovemaking. She averted her face so he could not witness her humiliation.

Rurik put a forefinger to her chin and turned her back to him. “Nay, that is not the way of it, witch. It may have started out thus, but somewhere betwixt the kissing and the tupping, other forces took over.” He put up a halting hand. “Do not think to ask me what those forces are because I truly do not know. Perchance, sorcery?”

Maire wanted to believe him, but…

“Sweetling, can you not comprehend that everything I said of you is true of me, as well, in reverse?”

She frowned in confusion.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers … a feathery light kiss that felt like heaven.

Her eyes darted right to left to see if anyone had noticed the kiss; she was still uncomfortable allowing her people to observe the Viking’s familiarity with her. But those few people who had noticed apparently approved, for they were grinning.

“Do you want me to explain?” he asked in a low, masculine voice that was as potent as a long swig of uisge-beatha.

Oh, God, yes! “Nay!” she said quickly.

But not quickly enough. He was already revealing his very own secrets. “When you lick your lips, as you are right now, I remember the wanton things I taught you to do with your mouth … or mayhap you are Eve to my Adam, and that type of sensuality comes instinctively to you.”

Maire’s lips tingled just hearing Rurik’s praise, even though she could hardly credit its truth. She was not a sensual woman … leastways, she never had been before.

“And when you twist your body away from me, trying to avoid eye contact, all you do is call attention to the outline of your breasts and your nipples, which I fantasize are turgid with desire for me …”