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‘I’m a fast learner,’ she murmured and returned her exploration of his body. Despite the many indentations and scars, his skin was silky soft. It held a fresh clean scent. ‘What comes next?’
‘You naked,’ he growled. ‘The proper way.’
He removed her shawl and quickly undid her gown, pushing it down until it pooled at her feet. She stepped out of the gown and stood before him in her tunic. He dipped his head and his tongue drew small circles, wetting the fine linen, turning it translucent so that her dusky-rose nipples showed through.
As his tongue lapped ever closer to her nipples, they contracted to hardened points. She moaned slightly in the back of her throat, enjoying the exquisite torture. He captured each nipple in turn and suckled through the cloth. The wetness of the cloth rasped against her breast, driving the aching between her legs to new heights. Finally, he lifted the undertunic and divested her of the rest of her garments until she stood before him, naked. His hands ran over her bottom, kneading and stroking.
‘This is how you get someone ready for a bath,’ he purred in her ear. ‘You were going too quickly.’
‘I want to try.’ She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back to the bench.
He looked at her quizzically, but allowed her to ease him back on the bench.
Mimicking him, she slowly moved her mouth down his torso, stopping to lap his nipples. His chest hair was rough against her tongue. She continued southwards, making a trail with her lips, following the line of hair until she reached his trousers.
She ran her hand down the front and felt the hard muscle underneath. Her body ached to know that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Her hands worked at his trousers, undoing the leather ties. She eased them over his hips and his desire for her sprang free. She put her hand on him and he pulsed silky hot. She cupped his balls, tracing the outline of each. He groaned and his hands clenched her shoulders.
He moved as if to flip her onto her back, but she shook her head. This time she wanted to be on top and she wanted to give him pleasure. It gave her a heady sense of power. This powerful Norseman was hers. He wanted her and was ready for her and her alone.
She lowered her mouth. ‘You need to be washed all over. I wanted to make sure that everywhere is clean.’
She captured him and felt him grow even harder. She glanced up and saw his eyes were half-shut with pleasure. His hands gripped her shoulders and urged her upwards. She climbed on the bench and slowly impaled her body on him.
Her body opened and took all of him. She marvelled how natural this had become and how easy it was to know precisely what to do. Slowly she tilted her hips back and forth. Each rock drove him deeper in until the climax came over them both.
Brand crushed her body to his and felt the final shuddering of her climax. There had been an added depth in their passion today. She was fast becoming as necessary to him as breathing. He knew he wanted to bind her to him and the very thought frightened him. Dependency only led to heartache in his experience.
‘I think we are sweaty enough,’ he rumbled against her ear, pushing the thought away. He refused to look beyond the moment with Edith. Always in the past when he had, things had gone awry.
She raised herself up on one elbow while her other hand played in his chest hair. Even though he thought himself completely spent a few heartbeats ago, his body craved more of her.
‘What happens next?’ she asked, giving a slight stretch and exposing the curve of her breast. Her dusky-rose nipple dangled tantalisingly in front of his mouth, reminding him of the delights they had just experienced.
He knew if he gave in to his passion, he’d be tempted to go too far and deep.
‘We plunge,’ he said, putting her from him. The air rushed around him and his body protested.
Her mouth dropped open. ‘In the lake?’
‘You are worried?’ he teased. It had been one of the great finds. Starkad spoke the truth when he said that this was a proper bath house, like the ones in Constantinople, rather than the sweat houses back in Norway. In Norway, they would have had to plunge into the lake. The Byzantines had a more sophisticated approach, inherited from the Romans. He had to assume that this estate was far more ancient than Edith had guessed.
‘I have never tried,’ she admitted, her cheeks flaming. ‘But I doubt I have any more of my reputation to lose. Shall we do it and truly shock everyone?’
‘Come with me,’ he said, relenting. ‘There is no need to shock anyone. But you will have to admit that you didn’t know everything about this estate.’
