The Viking's Captive (30 page)

She glowered at him and continued, “But I also knew that I had fallen under your erotic spell.”

“I have no magic powers. If I did, I would have wielded them long ago. Like back in Northumbria when you first kidnapped me.”

“No man has ever wanted me the way that you appear to.”

I do. I do.
“Your Norsemen must be blind.”

“This is my view of the situation. I can always find a man to couple with me …”

A wave of intense jealousy overcame him.

“… but I may never have the opportunity again to mate with a man who makes me feel so … so … desirable.”

He started to reach for her, then stopped himself. There were still obstacles to overcome.

“Plus, the women of Stoneheim are all abuzz over the advice you gave to Arnora.”

“Arnora?” He frowned. “Oh, the young woman with eight children.”

She nodded. “You told her of a method to prevent conception. You said a woman is
safe
three days afore her monthly flux and eight days after.”

“Safe
is not the correct word.” He shook his head vehemently. “The cycle technique is not infallible. My stepmother Rain was a famous physician in her land … in fact, she was a bit barmy at times … claimed to have come from a future time when women practiced many forms of birth control … men, too. The one thing she emphasized was that it was not perfect.”

Tyra waved a hand airily. “My monthly flux is due two days hence. Therefore, I am in that safe zone.”

“Tyra, Tyra, Tyra. Are you listening to me? What happens if it does not work? What happens if you become pregnant?”

“This is the way I figure it. We make love tonight, and only tonight … during a time of presumed safety. We should be on board ship, on the return trip to Northumbria, when my monthly time comes. If the flux fails to occur, you will know, and we will deal with it then.”

“You do not agree to give up rights to a child you carry?”

“I do not.” She sighed and seemed to decide on a
different tactic. “Of course, there is another solution. I could bed with Gunter and Egil tomorrow night. Then if I do increase, no one will know who the father is.”

“Absolutely not.”

She held his gaze, waiting. Then her face reddened and she reached down for her tunic. “It appears I made a mistake coming here. I will depart.”

“Nay!” he practically shouted. “Do not go.”

She halted, and tilted her head in question.

He walked around the table and took her hand, leading her to the alcove bed. “One night?”

“One night only,” she agreed.

“The deed will be done, then. We will make love,” he said, lowering her to the mattress and following her down. “And damn the consequences.”

Where did he get all these ideas? …

“I want it all,” she said.

Too aroused to wait, Adam was adjusting himself atop her, about to spread her thighs and thrust inside. He paused but a second before replying, “Of course you shall have it all,” and took her hand in his to wrap it around the prodigious width of his full-blown arousal.

“Not that,” she said with a giggle against his neck.

Tyra had had no idea that she could giggle! And who knew that a giggle could have the effect of cold water on a man’s hot staff?

He sat back on his haunches, straddling her legs. “What
all
are you referring to?”

“All the different ways of pleasuring that you told me about. The sight-pleasuring …”

“I think you and I have had more than enough of sight-pleasuring for one night. If I look at you any more, my eyes might pop out.”

She smiled. “I like when you look at me. Your scrutiny
is like a caress. See? Even now, when you gaze upon my breasts, the fine hairs stand out all over my body.”

“For the love of God, Tyra! Are you trying to torture me?”

“Am I torturing you?”

“Yea. Sweet torture.”

“Aaah,” she said, pleased with herself. Then she continued her explanation, “I want the other types of pleasuring, too. Kiss-pleasuring. Tongue-pleasuring. Finger-pleasuring. Talk-pleasuring. All of it. I have much to cram into one night.”

He pondered what she’d said; then a wicked grin split his face. “Whatever you want, wench.”

Lifting himself off her, he stood and went over to the hearth where he stoked the fire higher—to give him more light, she presumed. Then he set a half dozen already-lit candles about the bed, also for light, she presumed. Finally he grabbed a large harem-style pillow from Rashid’s pallet and brought it to her. Arranging her on the bed so that she half reclined against the pillow, he then dragged a chair to the side of the bed, where he sat down with his feet crossed at the ankles and propped on the edge of the bed frame.

Thus casually sitting, he began telling her a story. “There was a desert sultan renowned for his sexual prowess, and his ability to satisfy all the houris in his harem.”

“Is this a true story?”

“Absolutely true,” he said, but there was a decided twinkle in his eyes.

“Abn Fadin—that was his name—told me once that a man’s greatest pleasure came from seeing his woman’s pleasure. And the way that a woman gained the most pleasure was when she knew her own body.”

Abn Adam is more like it,
she thought. “I know my
own body. What kind of soldier would I be if I did not know my body’s strengths and weaknesses?”

“Not that kind of knowing, sweetling.”

Oooh, I like it when he calls me by that endearment.

“Push your hair behind your ears. Now close your eyes and examine each of your ears by tracing the whorls with a forefinger. Lightly, lightly. Push the finger in, too. Do you feel how sensitive they are? Now imagine how the same thing would feel if done by a man’s teeth and tongue. It will be wet there, and he must blow you dry.”

The oddest thing happened then. She was touching her ears, but she felt the sensation down lower in her body. Much lower. “Does everyone know about this phenomenon?”

“Only me and Abn Fadin.” She could tell he was lying by the mirth in his voice. “Now keep your eyes closed. Examine your lips now. Trace them with your finger. Lick them. Stick out your tongue as far as it will go, then slide it back in, out again, in again. Set a rhythm. Holy hell!”

“Why did you curse? Am I doing it wrong?”

“Nay, my warrior witch. You are doing it just right. That is the problem … not a problem, actually … just
my
problem.”

She opened her eyes to see exactly what his problem was and noticed it immediately … standing at attention in his lap, once again. Her giggle had turned him limp earlier. He was not limp now.

“Stop smirking, Tyra, and close your eyes. In punishment for that disrespect, we will move directly to your breasts. Lift them from underneath. Feel their weight.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Do it.”

She cupped her breasts from underneath and lifted.
She licked her suddenly dry lips as she did so and sighed.

“We may not have to worry about my spilling my seed inside your womb at this rate,” Adam said.

She was fairly certain that meant he liked what she was doing.

“Now lift, and rub. And lift, and rub. Learn their size and texture. Would you like it if I were doing that for you?”

“Most certainly. Would you like to try?”

“Not yet.”

“Touch your nipples. Play with them. Pull at them. Flick them up and down and side to side.”

She did as he asked and almost swooned at the intensity of pleasure she felt there and between her thighs, where she suspected a wetness had begun to form. “I would definitely like you to be doing this, not me. I feel wanton … perverse … doing it myself. Well, actually, I feel wanton when you do it, too, but not perverse.”

He laughed. “Now lower … move your hands lower … little by little. Lay them over your stomach. Skim over your woman hair. Now your thighs. Part them.”

“I … I can’t.”

“Yea, you can. Do it for me. Do it for yourself.”

She spread her legs slightly and continued to skim her fingers over the hair there. Who knew there could be such pleasure in touching one’s self? Adam had been correct from the start. She did not know her own body.

“Wider,” he coaxed. “Come now, Tyra, you can do better than that. Wider. Now bend your knees and put your feet flat on the mattress.”

She practically yelped at that suggestion. There was no way in the world that she would be able to expose herself in that manner. It would be too mortifying. It
would be a surrender. It would be … incredible. So, of course, she did it.

She gritted her teeth, arched her neck, and groaned aloud as ripple after ripple of flutters hit her right in that most vulnerable center of her. When she caught her breath, she asked, “Is the talk-pleasuring over yet?”

“Oh, Tyra, we have scarce begun. Examine yourself there now, dearling. Discover which folds are most sensitive. Find the bud that is the essence of all your sex. There.”

She whimpered. “I am wet.”

“I know, and you have no idea how much that pleases me.”

Her lower body jerked when she hit upon the tiny bud.

“Don’t stop. Circle it. Make it grow. Does it ache?”

She nodded. Every part of her body had tensed up. Her heart was pumping madly. She felt as if she were rising and rising and rising toward … something.

Opening her eyes, which seemed heavy and lethargic, she said, “I cannot do it anymore. I cannot. Something is wrong with me.”

“Shhh. Trust me.” He crawled up onto the bed, pulled the pillow from behind her head and placed it under her hips. Then he proceeded to do the most sinful, wanton, scandalous, unimaginable things to her woman folds …
with his tongue.

She screeched.

She tried to push him away.

She tried to pull him closer.

Her hips started to jerk in a rhythmic undulation.

His mouth found that bud of sensation and suckled softly.

She screamed. She actually screamed as wave after wave of pleasure hit her there. It would not stop. He
would not stop. She arched her hips up high. Her inner muscles clenched and unclenched, and she knew exactly what they wanted. Him. Inside her. Now.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please, please …” Her litany was a plea for satisfaction only he could give her.

She probably took the lead in dancing, too …

Adam knew what Tyra yearned for, but if he entered her now, the bedsport would be over afore it began.

But he should have known that his warrior princess was like no other woman. If his mind had been more clear, he might have been prepared.

Sensing his hesitation, she lifted her hips slightly, grabbed at the pillow under her, and tossed it to the floor. Then, before he could blink, she grabbed his head by the ears and pulled him up and over her. Within seconds, he found himself lying atop her, her strong legs wrapped around his hips, and his manpart pointed directly at her female portal.

“Wait, Tyra. Slow down. I must needs—”

“Slow down? Are you demented? I am like a boulder sliding down a slippery slope. I could no more slow down than—”

Before he knew what she was about, his own personal boulder slammed her hips against his, an instinctive movement as old as time, and he was inside her tight, spasming sheath to the hilt. It was hard to say whether he was more stunned or thrilled.

“You fill me,” she said in a voice of utter awe.

Well, yes, he did fill her. Oh, God, he filled her so well. “Are you all right? Are you in pain?” After all, she had been a virgin. And in truth, he was in a bit of pain himself.

“I am fine.”

Apparently, all the years of exercise and horseback riding had taken their toll on her maidenhead. He had heard of such afore. Even so, their coupling was proceeding at lightning speed. It was all too much, too soon. And after all, it had been two long years since he’d tupped a woman, he told himself defensively, sensing what was about to come. He pulled out slowly, then thrust … once, twice, three times, and roared his ecstasy. Wonderful as it was, the performance was all over for him in seconds.

“What happened?” she asked in a panic. “Your staff has gone limp inside me. I want it hard. Make it hard.”

Should I laugh or cry?
“I told you to wait.”

“It is not over yet, is it? Do not dare to stop now.”

He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Give me time to regroup, Tyra.”

“Time?” she shrieked, thumping on his chest with her fists. “There is no time. I need you now.” Apparently, the quick kiss was not going to suffice.

He should have known. He should have been prepared for what Tyra did next. After all, this was Tyra … warrior woman … a person accustomed to going after what she wanted. An out-of-control boulder, by her own description.

With a twist of her hips, she flipped him over on his back and sat on him, his embarrassingly limp member still held inside her slick walls.

“Well?” she prodded.

“Well what?” he gurgled. The sight of a wild Amazon goddess straddling him, naked as Eve in the Garden of Eden, was enough to make any man gurgle. Adam—
that would be him
—would love to accommodate Eve—
that would be her
—but, unfortunately, the “snake” was uninterested … at the moment.

“Regroup,” she ordered.

“Tyra, a man cannot get erect on command,” he explained to her patiently. “He must be aroused … again.” This was the most outrageous situation Adam had ever found himself in, and there had been plenty in his ill-famed past.

“Tell me how to arouse you, then,” she said with all the logic of an illogical female. In other circumstances, he would probably be enticed by such a suggestion from a female, but not now. Meanwhile, she squirmed on his lap to make herself more comfortable.

The “snake” perked up at her squirming, and Adam saw stars. “That would be one way,” he choked out before inhaling and exhaling several times. “Hey, hey, hey, Tyra,” he called out to her, placing his hands on her hips to still her motions. “Just relax.”

“Relax,” she repeated after him. Then she, too, inhaled and exhaled several times. “Now what?”