Page 56 of The Blue Viking

She was not precisely certain how to do that, but she raised her bottom slightly, and grasping his thick column in her hands, she drew him inside ever so gently. And, by the saints, he felt good.

Rurik’s eyes actually rolled back in his head for a moment, and she saw that his teeth were gritted, as if in pain. But she sensed it was a kind of pleasure-pain. When his eyes made contact with hers again, he said, “Lean forward so you can take more of me, sweetling.”

More? That was not possible. She did as he instructed and found, to her amazement, that her body was made to accept all of him, as inner muscles shifted and slickened.

“Now sit back.”

She did, resting her bottom on his loins, which caused her legs to widen. To her embarrassment, though, she started to spasm around his shaft… alternately squeezing and releasing. She tried to lift herself off and turn her face away in shame, but he would have none of that. With hands on her hips, he held her down and pleaded, “Look at me, Maire. I would see you peak.”

When she did not immediately meet his gaze, he commenced strumming that bud between her thighs … the one now practically pressing against his belly, as insistent in its swelling as his own imbedded erection. “Oh!” she whispered. “What?” he asked.

She put a hand against herself and confessed, “It feels like butterfly wings here … the frantic beating of butterfly wings.”

“Ah, Maire. You are truly precious.”

A fierce wail erupted from her then as the convulsions began all over again, stronger now. “I need … I need…,” she cried out, not sure exactly what it was she needed. Perhaps just an end to this throbbing between her legs and the aching in her breasts.

Then, slowly, slowly, slowly, she rocked her hips. So intense was the bliss that she closed her eyes and saw red and white stars behind the lids. When she opened them, it was obvious that he was equally affected. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and upper lip, bespeaking great restraint. His eyes were glazed, and panting breaths came from his parted lips. Frustrated at his lack of movement, she grabbed his hands off her hips and placed them over her breasts. “Move, damn you. Move!” she demanded.

He laughed up at her. “With pleasure, my lady.” Soft words of guidance and deft hands showed her the rhythm. She figured she must be doing it correctly because at one point he told her, on a groan, “You … are… incredible.”

Maire had peaked so many times since he’d first forced her to straddle him that she’d lost count. When he whispered into her ear, “You melt like hot honey around me,” she felt, indeed, as if her insides were dissolving around him. “Tell me how I feel to you,” he implored then.

She thought only an instant and disclosed, “You are the missing part of me, come home.” Her words stunned him, she could tell, but it was the truth. He completed her.

Had any other man and woman fit together as well as they did? She had no experience, other than Kenneth, but she decided that she and Rurik must be unique. Adam and Eve, but better. That thought made her smile.

“Do you find mirth in my discomfit?” Rurik asked with a growl, chucking her playfully on the chin. “Are you discomfited?”

“Oh, lady, I am sore discomfited, and you are the cause.”

She smiled wider then.

Cupping her buttocks, he rolled them both over so that she was on the bottom. “You like discomfiting me, do you?”

“Immensely.”

That was the last word she was able to speak for some time as Rurik began the hard strokes that would bring on his own ecstasy. Maire observed closely as his male explosion approached. Veins stood out on his neck and forehead. His eyes dilated and grew midnight blue. His nostrils flared. And he panted in a fast-paced cadence to match his strokes.

Rurik’s ecstasy was a beautiful thing to watch.

At the end, he pulled out and spilled his seed upon the linens between her legs. For an instant, she wished that he could stay within, especially as her insides continued to ripple … missing him … but she knew that was imprudent.

He collapsed on top of her, his face pressed into the curve of her neck. Maire thought he might have fallen asleep, but he kissed the pulse point in her neck and whispered, “Thank you.”

Thank you? What an odd thing to say!

Not so odd, though, she supposed. She was thankful, too, for the pleasure he’d just given her. As his greater weight pressed her to the mattress, not uncomfortably, Maire caressed his silken hair and pondered all that had happened to her that day. It was monumental. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she realized just how monumental.

I still love him.

Chapter Eleven

Rurik was frightened.

For a hardened warrior, that was a difficult admission to make. But there it was.

He could handle uneven odds in a battle, he could handle the prospect that he might die without warning, he could handle bloodshed and cruelty. What he could not handle were the overpowering feelings he was developing for Maire.