Page 98 of The Viking’s Captive

“Tyra, are you all right? I heard you scream.” It was Drifa, and her voice was definitely worried.

Adam made a muffled snorting sound and muttered something about her having screamed more than once.

“I’m fine. I … I saw a mouse.” She glanced pointedly down at the object lying at rest between Adam’s thighs. He was leaning casually against the wall, waiting for her to finish fixing the bed.

“A mouse! You have never been afraid of mice.” It was Ingrith speaking now.

“I was startled, that is all. Besides, this was a particularly hairy mouse.”

Adam made great show of examining his male part for hair. Then he silently mouthed at her the words, “You … will … pay.”

“Let us in,” Breanne insisted, rattling the door latch, unsuccessfully. Holy Thor! Was the whole tribe here? “Mayhap the Saxon has kidnapped you and he is holding a knife to your body, forcing you to mislead us.”

Tyra made a little squeal, but not in response to what Breanne had said. She was reacting to the Saxon coming up behind her while she was still bent over the bed. And it was not a knife he held to her body. ‘Twas something altogether different, though it was hard.

“I heard a squeal,” Vana said. Yea, it was the entire tribe, come to cheer her on … or something.

“Must be the mouse.” Tyra could scarce breathe, let alone speak, for the ingenious man had lifted her up onto the mattress so that she was on all fours, and he had come up behind her. Into her ear he whispered, “Have you ever seen a stallion mount a mare?”

While her very own “stallion” fondled her breasts and mounted her from behind, and her eyes rolled back in her head, she managed a forceful, “Go away!” to her sisters. She couldn’t be absolutely sure that they had left. They might have their ears pressed against the door. To be on the safe side, she made sure that she uttered no neighing noises.

They had no sooner completed their “ride” and were lying limp on the bed with satiety … she on her stomach, Adam on top of her … when there was another knock on the door, more forceful this time.

“Adam, open the door. I was in the hall under this room, and the ceiling is shaking. Has your Amazon lady been beating you?” It was Tykir.

“Amazon lady?” Tyra exclaimed and attempted to pummel his shoulders from behind. “Did you refer to me as an Amazon?”

“Only in the nicest possible way.”

“Tyra’s sisters are worried about her. Let us see that she is well.” Bloody hell! It appeared that Alinor was there, too. What next?

A child’s voice added. “The king sent me with a message fer Master Adam. ‘My eldest daughter has a hu-u-uge dowry.’” It was Alrek now.

“Adam does not care about money. He is an honorable man, with more than enough coin of his own,” Alinor asserted.

“God bless the woman,” Adam declared. “Sometimes she is not her usual pain-in-the-arse busybody self.”

“I think he is looking for love,” Alinor continued.

“On the other hand …” Adam said.

“Love?” all four of her sisters said in a swooning voice. They must have returned.

“That is ridiculous woman-nonsense.” Tykir was talking to his wife now. “Men do not think of love when the lust is running high. Hey, why did you hit me?”

“I hit you because you are behaving like a troll, you troll.”

“Really, Adam, just open the door so I will know you two have not killed each other,” Tykir implored. “Then I can be off to my bed where I will prove to my winsome wife just how much of a troll I can be.”

With a sigh of disgust, Adam lifted himself gingerly off of Tyra. “It seems they will not leave till one of us makes an appearance.” He wrapped a bed fur around his middle and stomped to the door. Opening it a mere crack, he said, “See, I am fine. Now go away.” He tried to slam the door shut, but Tykir stuck a foot in.

“Why is your hair standing up like you combed it with a hay rake? And is that a bite mark surrounding your nipple?” Tykir asked with the innocence of a seasoned rascal.

Adam looked down. Then he looked over at Tyra and winked.

She hated it when he winked at her. It set off all kinds of strange ripples through her body … a body that needed no more ripples tonight, thank you very much.

“Holy Valhalla! Our lady is stark naked, and she looks as if she wuz flattened by a warhorse.” It was Alrek, who had scooted down to his knees and was peering around Tykir’s legs and into the bedchamber.