Page 64 of Viking in Love

Her forehead was resting on his shoulder when she regained her senses. Slowly she felt him remove the finger and caress her back, spreading her wetness. So aroused was she still that she could not even care about that ignominy.

And he…the rogue…was whispering wicked things in her ear. Praise for all she had done so far. Promises of lewd things he intended to do to her yet.

What was it Rashid was wont to say: When a rogue kisses you, count your teeth.

Hah! With this rogue, she should count her teeth, her fingers, her toes, everything she had…and most of all, her too-vulnerable heart.

You want to put that WHERE?…

Caedmon lifted the bedazed woman off his lap and tossed her onto the bed, immediately crawling over her. He was a lost man. Lost, lost, lost!

She blinked, then stared up at him through eyes like shards of green glass. Apparently, she was as flummoxed as he by what had just happened. By the rood! Her receptiveness to his touch both excited him and made him wary. He could easily be smitten by this tempting witch if he was not careful.

He had gone too far.

She had gone too far.

In truth, Caedmon had intended to make bold with her, mayhap avail himself of some of her charms, just give her a lesson she would not soon forget in trying his temper. She needed bending to a man’s will…his will. But his brutish urges had taken over once she removed her garments, and now he must needs slake his lust.

“Dost want me to continue, Breanne?” he asked in a raw voice as he kneeled betwixt her widespread legs and unlaced his braies, shrugging them off his painfully hard cock.

Her eyes went wide and her gaze was riveted on his erection, which of course took that as a cue to thicken even more. His enthusiasm for the bedsport was approaching embarrassment. If he was not careful, he would spill his seed like an untried boyling.

“Continue what?” she asked.

He forgot the question, for a moment, as he noticed the moisture glistening on her red fleece. “With our love play,” he rasped out.

She glanced once again to his raging cock. “Dost plan to put that inside me?”

He laughed, painfully. “Yea, I do.”

“Are you not embarrassed by it?”

He frowned. “Why should I be?”

“I cannot imagine the discomfort of walking around with your dangly part leading the way.”

“Breanne! I do not walk around like this.” Leastways, not all the time…though, a great deal since you arrived, witch.

“Can I touch it?” she asked as she half-sat up.

Good Lord! She will be the death of me yet. But what a sweet way to die! “If you must.” He guided her hand down to enfold him.

But contrary as usual, she unfolded her hand, and instead ran her fingertips along the length, causing his blood to thicken and his heart to race. Every nerve in his oversensitized body was dancing, especially between his legs.

“It feels like marble, smooth and oddly hard. Why is it red on the end? Why are those veins sticking out? Does it hurt?”

Too many questions for him to answer without babbling. The feel of her fingertips wrapping about him nigh unmanned him, but then she squeezed, too hard, and he began to lose control. Prying her fingers off, he showed her how to pleasure him, and she did, intrigued by his reaction. Because her hands were rough from all her woodworking, it created the most incredible friction, like nothing he had experienced before.

“Too much too soon,” he told her.

Did that stop the wench?

Nay.

She lifted his cock and stared at his ballocks, as if she had just unearthed some secret. “Eeew, it is hairy. Like peach fuzz.”

Would you like a taste? Oh, that was crude, even for me. I will scare her off afore we begin. He held back a laugh, then took her hands in his, raising them above her head with her reclining again. “Now is the time to say yea or nay, sweetling. Beyond this point, I will not…cannot…stop.”