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A warrioress like her would work those strong core muscles all around him like a vise. She’d squeeze and clench and convulse around him like there was no tomorrow, milking the last drop from his stones.
And then she’d do it all over again.
Again and again, until there was nothing left. Until he was wrung out, sucked dry. Exquisitely, ecstatically, and totallywrecked.
As if she could read his mind, her eyes dipped slowly and pointedly to his groin, which the blonde was still grinding mindlessly upon.
He shoved the woman to the side so she didn’t block his view of the black-haired warrioress, but let her continue gyrating on his lap, working his tortured rod through his clothes.
Gods, he needed release!
And not by his own hand this night, he swore. There were females aplenty attending this gathering. Willing and unattached. Over the past couple of hours, many others had already thrown themselves at him. These two were simply the most persistent.
And yet…
He wantedthat one.
The blonde chose that moment to moan with abandon, head thrown back, as she ground herself hard against his erection. His hand on her hip was the only thing that kept her from shaking right off his lap and onto the floor as she writhed through her orgasm.
He might have come too, like an untried lad in his pants, if he had been anywhere else, under any other circumstance. After all, this would merely be the appetizer. He had stamina to go all night, as many times and as many hours as it took, and still not be fully satisfied.
But he didn’t release the nigh unbearable pressure.
Couldn’t.
Not while staring into the eyes of the female hetrulywanted while another took her pleasure from his body.
His own body thwarted him. His bollocks locking down, his sex squeezing tight. Shuddering with agonizing need, yet unwilling,unable, to let go.
The smirk on the stranger’s face disappeared as she watched him. Watched the blonde get off on him.
A strange violence darkened the internal light that once sparkled in those indecipherable eyes.
Unconscious of what he was doing, held hostage by pure instinct, Kai shoved the blonde off his lap and pulled away from the redhead at his back, standing up. He took one, two steps toward the raven-haired stranger, not knowing why.
Another servant intercepted their line of sight…
And she was gone.
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
Later, Kai sat sullen at a table with Ere and Sorin, hellbent on drinking himself into an unconscious stupor. Given his size and metabolism, however, the alcohol wasn’t strong enough to numb him the way he obviously wished it to.
Ere had never seen him so subdued. Not as a dragon, and certainly not as a man.
Many women had come and gone, trying to gain his attention. But all he did was shove them away, not even grabbing a tit here and there or squeezing a round arse freely offered.
“Viking women not your style?” Ere ventured, sipping the last of his own drink.
They would stay in the longhouse for the night like some other guests of the Jarl. No need to return to the farm. He’d obtained enough information to have an idea where they would be headed in the morning, and the farm was in the opposite direction.
Kai didn’t even bother to grunt in reply, merely gulping down more alcohol.
He’d moved on to the Jarl’s precious wine store by now, acquired from trade with Francia most likely, having had enough of mead and ale. Ere was shocked that Kai wasn’t already stoned out on the floor or vomiting his entrails after everything he’d imbibed and the gigantic meal he consumed.
The male had the constitution of an ox.
Ere himself was more than a little tipsy. He could feel the flush in his cheeks, the languid heat beneath his skin. The feather amulet around his neck, the most precious gift he’d ever received (from Sorin, of course), burned into his suprasternal notch, making his already sensitive flesh flood with molten desire.
