Page 54 of The Blue Viking

Nay, he immediately amended to himself with a smile. Her lack of inhibitions was priceless, and to be encouraged, not discouraged.

“You know, Rurik …”

What was it about women… that they felt the need to prattle on after lovemaking? What was wrong with silence … or sleep? “What?”

“… that really wasn’t any punishment.”

“Explain yourself, wench,” he grumbled, pulling her even tighter against his side, with her face resting on his chest. If she was going to chatter endlessly, he was going to be comfortable.

Twirling his chest hairs about one finger, she remarked, “You have been implying that you would take me to your bed furs as a punishment. But, in truth, it was more like a reward.”

Rurik felt both elated and disgruntled by her observation. So he jabbed back, “Ah, but now you bear my man mark, and I swear, by the time this day is over, my mark on you will be indelible.”

She seemed to consider his words for a long time, still playing with his chest hairs and throwing one knee over his thigh. It rubbed up and down, and up and down, and up and down. Finally, she peered up and fluttered her thick lashes at him, coyly. “Dost think you could start now?”

Rurik almost bit his own tongue.

Of course he could. Definitely. But ’twas best not to give too much to women in the bedsport lest they think they held the upper hand. So, he said with false indifference, “Perchance.”

He saw immediately that he’d miscalculated with Maire. Disappointment shone on her face at his less-than-enthusiastic response, but, even worse, she was proceeding to sit up and get off the bed. “Oh, well, never mind,” she said with as much lack of enthusiasm as he had just demonstrated. How dare she! “Mayhap I will go find Nessa and we can put up some honeycombs in pottery containers for the winter months. What else is there to do since the weather is so poor outdoors?”

“Hah!” he exclaimed, immediately regrouping as only a good soldier could. “Nay, nay, nay! You are not escaping my clutches so easily, you slippery wench, you. There will be honey made at Beinne Breagha today, I warrant, but not of the bee variety … more like the sex-honey variety. And as to what else there is to do, I daresay I have a few ideas.”

She paused.

Quickly, he grabbed her by the waist and hauled her back. She landed atop him, thanks to his deft handling. Her hair billowed forward, shrouding her face, and landing in his open mouth. He spat out a few strands, then informed her, “I was only jesting when I said that perchance we could resume making love again. What I meant was that we definitely would.”

She brushed her hair back off her face and behind her ears. Then she raised her head to look at him. To his astonishment, she was smiling. In fact, by the shaking of her body, he would guess that she was barely suppressing outright laughter.

“I knew that,” she told him with a saucy grin.

Then, of all things, the witch winked at him. And it became clear as the skies over Oslofjord that she did, indeed, have the upper hand.

Now what?

Maire was new at this game of bold wanton. She’d just made some outrageously suggestive remarks, but now she was unsure how to follow through.

He stared up at her with those compelling blue eyes of his, waiting for her next move. She had no clue what it would be. Yet.

“Come, Maire,” he urged. “What additional things would you like me to do to put my mark on you? Do not go tongue-dead on me.”

“I’m thinking,” she snapped, not the best way to respond, she supposed, when sprawled atop a naked Northman. But tongue-dead? She should just clobber him over his smirking face with the pottery bowl that still sat on a low chest next to the bed. However, the man had uses. Aye, that’s it. I want to use the lecherous lout for my purposes, but how?

Oh, Rurik was still the same insufferable Viking, but making love with him had been a joyous event, and Maire had experienced little enough joy in her life these past few years. Was it so wrong to gather more while she could?

In truth, the man had surprised the spit out of her with his superb lovemaking skills. Who knew such an earthy exercise could be so …? She couldn’t settle on exactly the right word.

Pleasurable? For a certainty.

Shocking? Aye. In a nice way.

Edifying? She had to smile at that one. She was definitely learning things, and she definitely wanted to learn more things. Besides, she was discovering that she harbored a strong sensual streak. Before it disappeared, she’d like to know more about what had brought it to life, and why.

Harmonious? Strange that this word should pop into Maire’s head, but there had been this feeling of balance when Rurik was inside her. Not just the oneness, or the wonder of two such disparate bodies fitting together so perfectly, as the Creator had planned. It was more as if… she shuddered to think of the ramifications … their joining had, in fact, been ordained in some way, as Rurik had mentioned earlier. Destiny.

She released a sigh at that whimsical thought and noticed that Rurik was still gazing at her, with his eyebrows arched in question. She also noticed that his manpart had grown hard again and was nudging insistently against her womanpart.

Well, Maire wasn’t sure what to do next, but she could always follow Rurik’s technique … the slow one he had employed at the beginning. Rolling off the top of his body and to her side, she ordered, “Turn over.”