Page 123 of Viking in Love

“Hell if I know.” He feasted his eyes on her, from her wild red hair to her bare toes. Then he smiled. “Wanna tup?”

Breanne surprised the spit of him by saying, “Sure. Why not?”

Caedmon was fairly certain this was a dream.

He was a hard nut to crack…

“I must say life is never dull around you, Caedmon.”

Breanne was walking around the small underground room, which had once housed root vegetables and salted meats.

“That is what Geoff and Wulf say about me all the time, but I do not seek these kinds of things. Must be I attract them, though.” He stood and shrugged out of his braies, then beckoned her with his forefinger. “Come here, Breanne.”

The intent was clear in his deep blue devil eyes and in his staff, which stood at attention down below.

She could play coy and wait for persuasion, but she had lain awake after leaving Caedmon’s bedchamber, berating herself for leaving. Yea, he had told her that marriage would never be in the offing, but she could have one more night of loving. More memories to store for what would surely be a lonely future.

This was her second chance.

She raised her night rail up and over her head, dropping it to the floor. Then she walked toward him in as sultry a fashion as she could manage.

He laughed. “Temptress,” he said against her ear. Then he kissed her and at the same time lifted her up off the floor and walked to the blanket, where he lay her down, himself at her side, never once breaking the kiss. “I want you. I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone or anything.”

You do not know what “want” is, lackwit. I have it in much greater abundance, thank you very much. “I am here.”

“Yea, you are.” He smiled down at her, then surveyed her body, slowly, running a fingertip along her collarbone, down between her breasts, over her belly and navel, stopping at her nether hair. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

She would have disagreed, knowing her attributes, or lack of them, but mayhap he saw her through the daze of arousal. No matter.

His calloused hands traced the same path again, but this time he used his palms to worship the skin of her arms, inside and out, under her breasts, her belly, the backs of her knees, with throaty endearments at each place, telling what he saw and liked. Just that had her moaning her ardor as all her senses leaped to life. He is ruining me for other men. No one else could possibly make me feel this way.

Eyes brimming with passion, he framed her face between his trembling hands and kissed her, softly, entreatingly, like a true lover. His love.

Oh, if only that were true.

He made a rough sound when she pressed the tip of her tongue into his mouth, then proceeded with an in-and-out rhythm that matched what was to come below.

The first time she peaked was when he played with her breasts. Teasing fingers. Nipping teeth. Lapping tongue. And rough, insistent sucking.

I will never look at my breasts in the future, or touch them, without remembering this.

“Look at me,” he insisted. “I want you to see how much you please me.”

He moved lower then, parting her female folds, spreading the wetness there, searching and then finding a nub of such intense pleasure that she cried out.

“Did I hurt you?”

Just the opposite. She shook her head.

He knelt between her legs, then spread her thighs wider, and moved himself lower. When she realized what he was about to do, she protested. “No!” He could not possibly be going to…

“Let me.”

“Oh…oh, I never thought. Do people do this?” If they do not, they should. Holy Thor!

“We do, dearling. We do.” With those words, he showed her what a man could do, making love to a woman’s parts. So intense was the pleasure, she could not object. And she peaked again with whimpers of cascading spasms, starting inside, then spreading out and over her entire body.

When he moved to arrange himself at her woman’s portal, she asked, “Do women do that to men, as well?”