Page 95 of The Bewitched Viking

He laughed and leaned down to throw more wood on the fire. Why, she had no idea. It was roasting in here now. Or was it just her skin that was overheated?

“I think I’ll go back to my bedchamber now,” she decided.

His only response was a short laugh. “Good try.” Then he began to peel off his braies, slowly. He wore no undergarments.

She tried to look away but couldn’t. Oh…my…God!

She already knew he had a magnificent body. What she hadn’t expected was the large erect staff standing out rampantly from a nest of dark golden curls at the joining of his thighs. She’d seen dangly manparts before, but…but…There were no words for her amazement. Apparently, there were manparts, and then there were manparts. This was one of the latter variety.

Amusement curved his lips upward as she continued to stare at him there. And, to her astonishment, it grew even larger under her scrutiny.

“Have you no shame?” she inquired, once she was able to speak. “Dost think I want to look at your dangly part?”

“Dangly? I am definitely not dangling, if you will notice. And, frankly, many women are impressed with my manpart, whether it be in its dangly state or otherwise.”

“Hah! ’Tis just like a man to think big is better.”

He laughed heartily. “Oh, Alinor, you really are a gem. Do you not know that betimes big is actually better.”

“Hmpfh! Well, you are not putting that inside me,” she asserted.

“Move over, wench,” he ordered, ignoring her declaration. “’Tis time to begin your ‘punishment.’”

“Begin? Begin?” she sputtered. “What was all that other…peaking business?”

“Peaking business?” He frowned with bafflement. Then grinned. She hated it when he grinned like that. It made her feel warm and melting inside.

She shimmied her body to the other side of the bed, but still the massive bed felt too small. His virile body crowded her, made her feel unsettled…afraid.

Nay, nay, nay! I will not cower in the face of a brute.

“That little peaking business, as you call it, just took the edge off my appetite. ’Tis time to begin the main course.”

“I’m not a meal to satisfy some base appetite,” she argued.

“A mutual meal and a mutual satisfaction, then.” He nudged her playfully in the leg with a toe.

She almost jumped off the bed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then quickly added, “Nor do I want to find out.”

“Come here, Alinor, and let me kiss you.” He reached out a hand and took a strand of her hair between his fingers, rubbing sensuously, then bringing it to his nose to sniff. He did have a fondness for her hair…well, not really her hair…the rose-scented hair cream.

But what had he said about kissing? “You want to kiss me? That’s all?” Hmmm. That wouldn’t be so bad. In truth, she liked his kisses. As long as they didn’t lead to that peaking nonsense. “Let me put a nightrail on first.”

“Yea, I want to kiss you, Alinor. And, nay, that is not all. And, for a certainty, you are not donning any item of clothing for the next two days.”

“Wh-what?” she choked out.

He took advantage of her momentary shock and dragged her across the mattress and into his arms. Lying on her back, she watched as his head descended ever so slowly. She could not believe she was succumbing so readily to his forceful domination. The only thing freezing her in place was the light touch of his fingertips on the pulse place at the side of her throat.

I am lost, she thought. And I don’t care.

He settled his lips over hers, gently at first, and caught her cry in his mouth. Next, he shifted the kiss from side to side till she fit him perfectly. He encountered no problem at all working his magic on her, entreating her lips to open for his tongue, gripping her head with fingers tunneled in her hair. It was one unending kiss of many nuances…a tender pleading soon shifting into rapacious hunger. In the end, it was not a neat kiss, by any means. It was open-mouthed, wet and devouring in its fervor. In short, ecstasy. A kind of ecstasy Alinor had never imagined and did not welcome.

If it was only the kiss, she might be able to resist, but there was also the sensation of his crisp hairs abrading her breasts and the ever-present reminder of his raging desire pressing into her hip. And worst of all, he was moving lower, to new, unexplored territory.

“Nooooooo!” she keened as he took practically half a breast into his mouth and pulled upward with a suctioning force till he held only the distended nipple between his lips. Then he began to suckle her, alternately licking the tip with his tongue and drawing on the nipple with a fast rhythm.

It was the most horriblehorriblehorrible pleasure she had ever encountered. It was torture. And it was bliss.