Page 77 of Viking in Love

“How much?”

“So much I had to go to the privy five times to relieve my bladder.”

“Good.” He leaped onto the bed, causing the ropes to creak.

“You will land us on the floor, fool.” She laughed.

He pinched her bottom.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“For telling me that our lovemaking is punishment.”

“Well, it is.”

“Liar!” He rolled over on his back, folded his hands behind his neck, and grinned over at her, not at all embarrassed by his nudity or his rising enthusiasm. “Take off your clothes for me, dearling.”

She was wearing only a thin bed rail, but she balked nonetheless. It was part of the game they played behind doors.

“What will you give me if I do?”

He glanced downward.

“That goes without saying.”

“I do have another gift for you, but you must be naked for me to give it to you.”

“I cannot imagine—”

“No guessing. Just do it.”

She slid off the bed and prepared to do so. Even though she wore only the one garment, she took a long time removing it. First, baring one shoulder, then the other. Holding the loose garment to her breasts, she turned and flashed him a saucy smile over her shoulder. Then she let loose the fabric and wriggled it down to her ankles, giving him a tempting view of her swaying bottom on the way down.

“Come here, witch.” He held his arms out to her.

She meant to jump on top of him on the bed, but he caught her about the waist and turned her over on her back. “Do not move.” Slipping off the bed, he went over to a table near the door where he had placed a small pottery jar.

“What is that?” she asked suspiciously.

“Something to heal your abraded breasts and to soothe my hunger.”

“Huh?” She leaned forward and sniffed. “Honey?”

He nodded, then ran a thin stream over her lips. “Have you ever had a honey kiss?”

“You know I have not. Have you?”

He shook his head. “A first for me, too. In truth, you bring the creativity out in me.”

She did not believe that for one moment, but she liked hearing it. And she liked even more his honey kisses, which he bestowed with expertise, bending over the bed, his one hand braced over her, the other on the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.

“You want me,” he declared, with satisfaction.

“You want me,” she declared right back, equally satisfied.

They smiled at each other.

“For a woman with such a sour tongue, you do taste sweet.” To prove his point, he lapped at her honeyed lips. Then he kissed the honey and nipped it with his teeth. He laved her lips and the surrounding skin.