Page 51 of To Tame a Viking Warlord

Then she reached down, gathered the hem of her kaftan, and drew it up and over her head until she stood before him as naked as the day she was born. A low growl rose from Torstein's chest.

He sat up abruptly and stripped away the loincloth so she could see all of him.

Samira gasped at the sheer size of him. She made to take a step back, but it was too late. Torstein lunged forward and hauled her into his arms, in a hungry kiss, and he took her down onto the mattress.

She lay atop him, skin to skin, and returned the kiss with equal fervor. Their breaths mingled as their bodies began to move together.

"That's it, my love. Feel me."

"Yes," Samira moaned as his hands roamed over her.

"Can you feel how much I want you, wife?" he growled against her lips.

She could only nod. His hard length slid against her folds, and each time he moved, the tip of him brushed the sensitive bud at her center and sent shudders through her.

"Take your pleasure, my love. Do not be afraid. 'Tis just us now."

Their bodies were pressed tight together, moving in unison, the friction building toward a crescendo.

Samira yelped as he flipped her onto her back and rose over her. His gaze fixed on her breasts. His hand found the heat between her thighs, his thumb circling her there, and he lowered his head and drew a nipple into his mouth.

She nearly came off the bed. The pleasure was devastating. She moaned aloud as his tongue circled the peak again and again and the pressure of his hand increased. She let her legs fall wide to give him easier access, and he groaned his approval.

He turned his mouth to her other breast and suckled hard as one thick finger slid slowly inside her. He stroked her from within and gave her no quarter.

Both of them were breathing fast.

Then he released her breast and moved lower, kissing a path down her body to the juncture of her thighs. He shouldered her legs wider, parted her with his thumbs, and without warning his mouth closed over her. He feasted on her like a starving man. His tongue teased and stroked her most sensitive flesh while his fingers worked inside her, and with his free hand he reached up and pinched her nipple hard. The combined onslaught was too much. It sent her over the edge. Samira threw her head back and screamed as wave after wave of pleasure broke through her, her fists clenched in the furs beneath her.

He did not stop until she was a whimpering, trembling mess.

Before she could recover he was above her again, braced on his forearms so as not to crush her with his weight. His mouth glistened with her and every muscle in his body stood taut. He looked every inch a conquering Viking warlord.

"Look at me, wife," he growled. The look in his eyes was scorching, possessive, feral.

Samira stared up into their dark blue depths and wound her arms around his waist.

"I am going to claim you now. As mine. Only mine. No other man touches you, from now until eternity. Look down and watch me take what's mine."

Samira glanced down between their bodies and tried not to faint with fear. Surely he would not fit. But she dared not tempt fate by saying so. Torstein took himself in hand and stroked the head of his length along her slick folds until it glistened. Then he held her gaze.

"This may hurt at first," he said. "But afterward, you will feel only pleasure."

He kissed her as he positioned himself and began to push inside.

Samira felt the burning stretch as he slowly filled her. She gripped his forearms hard, yet despite the size of him, her body grew wetter still to welcome him. Poised above her, his eyes burning into hers, Torstein thrust once, hard, broke through the barrier, and seated himself to the hilt.

Samira whimpered in pain, and he went still. He gently kissed her. The tight grip of her around him was almost enough to finish him, but he held himself in check and gave her time to adjust.

At last her body eased around him. He felt the moment she wanted more, a flutter deep inside her that gripped him.

"Are you all right?"

When she nodded, he let out a ragged breath. "Thank the gods."

Then he began to move. He drove deep, withdrew, and drove deep again.

Samira caught his rhythm quickly and soon she was meeting him thrust for thrust, the two of them moving together in a dance as old as time. His heart hammered so hard he thought it would burst. With every stroke he felt himself edging closer to release.