Page 77 of Truly, Madly Viking

She did. Without glancing down, she knew that her nipples were hard pebbles, clearly delineated by the thin knit of her sweater. And she did not care. For once in her life she was glad—very glad—that these overt signs of her sensuality were there for his enjoyment.

"Oh, Mag-he," he said with a long sigh. "Do you know how much I want to suckle you? I would take your breasts deep into my mouth and draw on your nipples till you cried out for release. I would worship your breasts for a long, long time."

She moaned aloud and gripped the chair wings tighter, arching her breasts out even farther so that the throbbing tips were caressed by the coarse threads of her sweater.

"Let us put an end to this delicious agony," he said in a voice choked with emotion. Maggie could see that he was as excited as she was. Joe took one hand off the back of his chair and laid it over the ridge in his pants. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that he wanted her to do the same.

"Find the bud of your woman-pleasure and stroke it so," he instructed as he ran his fingertips up and down his erection.

To her amazement, she did just as he wanted, and experienced no shame—just a glorious, spasming orgasm as she writhed on her chair under her own touch. As much satisfaction as she received, though, the greatest thing was watching Joe rear his head back, the cords in his neck standing out, and squeeze the chair arms with white knuckles as he rode his climax.

As Maggie's senses floated back to earth, she discovered something new: it was possible to have sex without physical contact from a lover.

And she could only wonder about something else: if this man could melt her bones and heat her blood and make her hormones hum with just this, what would it be like to actually make love with him?

Love with a Viking was getting harder and harder to resist.

On Friday night, Maggie had taken a bubble bath and donned her red silk robe.

Barefooted, she rushed downstairs to turn off the warming oven. She'd prepared a nice dinner, which she didn't want to dry out.

Joe still wasn't home. After working in the Rainbow facilities all afternoon, he had gone to a gym with Steve to experience something new to him: working out.

Joe claimed that everyday work for a Viking soldier was "working out." Still, he'd accepted Steve's invitation.

Just then she heard a car pull up outside, then leave, followed by the sound of a key in the door. She went into the hallway, waiting.

He entered and gazed at her for a long moment. As he hung his jacket in the closet, his movements slowed. He was clearly perplexed. "Where are the girls? I do not hear the Em-tee-vee blaring."

"Their grandparents arrived suddenly this afternoon... Judd's mother and father. Since the girls won't be staying with them over Christmas this year, Jack and Martha wanted them to come back to the farm for a visit."

"A visit?" he asked. "How long a visit?"

"The weekend."

"The weekend," he repeated. It took only an instant for understanding to dawn.

"And you left me sitting in a gym, bi-sigh-cling myself to mind numbing boredom? Are you daft, lady?"

Then the slow grin she loved so much began to creep across his lips. "What are you wearing under that wicked garment, wench?"

"A belly-button ring."

"And?"

Then it was she who gave him a slow grin.

She saw his Adam's apple move... once, twice, three times, as if he tried and was unable to swallow.

Finally he said, "No."

"No?" she gasped out.

"No, you are not going to control this situation, as you have all others in your life." He continued to stare at her casually, as if she hadn't just offered herself to him, with a huge dollop of sexual promise.

"You don't want... I thought you wanted to make love with me." Oh, how humiliating! She wished the slate tiles of the foyer would just open up and swallow her whole.

With a tsk-tsk of disgust, he pulled his T-shirt out of his low-slung sweatpants, and over his hair, which hung in a single braid down his back, still damp from a shower at the gym. Then he tossed the shirt to the floor, slicing her with a disbelieving look. "Are you serious, wench? Of course I want you. I want you so much my teeth ache and my loins tremble. Thor's toenails! I can scarce breathe."