Page 65 of Viking in Love

“Was I wanton when I…you know? Would I be wanton if I continued?”

Definitely. “Does it matter?”

“Not much.”

He had to grin at that. God love a wanton woman! “Actually, Breanne, there is naught that a man, even a husband, cherishes more than a good woman who can be bad in bed.”

“You jest.”

He shook his head. “I do not. If you must know, Breanne, I want you to be uninhibited with me.”

“I would not know how.”

“I will teach you.” Said the spider to the ant. “So, yea or nay?”

“You would let me renege on our bargain? You would be satisfied without actual fornication?”

“I would not be satisfied, but…” He shrugged. Do not overplay the meekness game, Caedmon.

“Would you take back protection of my sisters?”

Probably not. “Probably.”

She seemed to consider his words. She was no doubt trying to figure a diplomatic way of saying she did not want him, but then she surprised him, good and well. “That thing that happened to me afore…the peaking…will it happen again?”

“I guarantee it will.” Well, practically guarantee. “Hopefully, more than once.”

“Go ahead, then. Do it.”

Was there e’er a more romantic prelude to lovemaking? As if I care! I am about to have my wicked way with the wicked witch of the north.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was a hairy situation…

Breanne’s entire body was humming. Truly, it was amazing, as if every portion of her skin, all the nooks and crannies, was being alerted to something stupendous about to happen.

Caedmon lowered himself to lie atop her.

Oh. My. Gods! She gasped at the feel of his chest hairs against her breasts.

He raised himself slightly, and, as if he could read her mind, moved his chest from side to side so the coarse hairs could abrade her already erect nipples. She closed her eyes and saw bright lights behind the lids, so intense was the pleasure. Do it again. Do it again. Do it again.

“Do you like that, dearling?” he whispered. When she did not…could not…answer, he urged, “Open your eyes, Breanne, and tell me.”

I like it overmuch. “I suppose it is all right.” Do it again.

He nipped her chin with his teeth, not convinced, but lout that he was, he stopped the chest caresses. Instead, he began to kiss her again, another form of sweet torment.

Unlike the earlier hungry kisses, these were gentle and slow and slumberous, as if he had all the time in the world. Taking him by the ears, she lifted his head. “Not like that.” Do the other thing with your chest hairs.

A laugh rumbled up from deep in his throat. “Now you are an expert on kissing?”

“I know what I like.” Chest hairs.

“You do not like soft, coaxing kisses?”

“Bloody hell, man! I am already coaxed. Move on to something more…more…”