Page 84 of The Caged Viking

That was good enough for him. “Do you recall something I said to you after we engaged in bedsport back in the tent?”

“Are you nuts? You expect me to recall something you said after knocking my socks off—”

“Nuts? And socks? What socks? You were wearing nothing at the time.”

She rolled her eyes as if he was hopeless.

While, actually, he was hopeful, not hopeless, about the outcome of this night.

“Suffice it to say— ”

“Holy Thor! Every time you say ‘Suffice it to say,’ I know I am in for one of your lectures. Keep in mind, sweetling, I only have a few hours till I must rise.” He gave her a woeful look so she would not take offense at his criticism.

She pinched his arm as punishment, but then continued anyway, “Suffice it to say, I was probably in an erotic swoon, in no condition to recall bed banter.”

He laughed. “You do have a way of saying things. Erotic swoon. I will have to remember that.”

“You must have a better memory than I do, Einstein.”

Einstein? Is she calling me by another man’s name whilst in my bed? I knew a man named Einar. But, nay, it must be another of her pet names for me…an endearment.

“Prepare to swoon, sweetling,” he said with a growl. Rolling her over, he arranged himself atop her body, fitting himself between her spread legs to accommodate him.

As his enthusiasm began to rise, she said, “You play dirty, Hauk.”

He cocked his head to the side, then smiled. “I like the sound of that. Dirty sex.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Good hopeless or bad hopeless?”

“Definitely good,” she said with a laugh.

“I told you that I want to make slow love to you. The kind that starts with deep, wet, tongue kisses, the kind you taught me to appreciate.”

“Are you blaming me?”

“Nay. Thanking you. Do not be so testy.” As I was saying, those kisses will go on and on and on until you are mewling your need.”

“I do not mewl.”

“A first then! Wonderful!” He smiled. “In all the times we’ve made love so far, I haven’t really studied your body and all its secret places. For that I apologize. I promise to accomplish this with caresses that alternate between soft and skimming, with hard and squeezing. All this I will do until you are begging me to enter you, but I will make you wait while I pleasure-torture you some more.”

“Oh, ho! So now you think you can make me beg. I don’t think so. Maybe I will make you beg.”

He grinned. “I can only hope.”

“Oh, you!” she swatted his shoulder.

“Moving on,” he was enjoying himself and did not try to hide the fact. “When I finally enter you, my enthusiasm will be raging for completion, but I will remain hard through many, many thrusts, long and short, gentle and strong, slow and fast till you are scream with your peakings, coming one on top of another.”

“Holy moley, Hercules! You know, what you’ve just said here sounds a lot like what Kevin Costner said to Susan Sarandon in the movie Bull Durham. You could say that Susan was in an erotic swoon, too.”

“I am not even going to try to interpret what you just said. Now just lie still and let me do my thing.”

“You have a thing.”

“Ah, how quickly they forget!” He looked upward and sighed dramatically. “You told me I have a thing…the same night in the tent.”