Sandra Hill - [Vikings II 04] (25 page)

“It’s a sundress, not a siren dress. And not much.”

“Hmmm. That bears some investigating.” With deft fingers he undid the tie at her neck, which caused the dress to fall to her waist, exposing her breasts. Then he ran his rough palms up her thighs till they touched the edges of her bikini underpants. “You are wrong, dearling. You are wearing way too much.” With those words, he soon had her out of the panties and dress, straddling him totally naked.

“You’re still dressed,” she complained as he arranged her the way he wanted her, straddling his lap again, her butt on his thighs.

“Just for a second. I want to look at you.” His voice was husky with arousal, which in turn aroused her.

“I’m a little embarrassed.”

“Do not be. The future seems so unclear to me, especially today. If anything should happen to me to send me away from here …”

Panic swept over her at the prospect of his going away.
Oh, God, when did he become so important to me?

“… I want to remember you … all of you.” He winked wickedly at her. “I am making a mind picture of you.”

“I can give you a real picture … a photograph.”

He shook his head to indicate he didn’t mean that kind of picture. “Your red curls,” he explained and gently brushed the back of his fingertips over the hair on either side of her face and then between her legs.

With that sweet gesture, his throb became her
throb, too. Like an electrical circuit pulsing between them where their private parts met.

“Your skin, like fresh cream it is, all over your body. I saw a piece of priceless porcelain once in the market town of Birka. It came from the Eastlands, but ’twas not as fine as your skin.”

“What a nice thing to say!”

“ ’Tis the truth. And these,” he said, a twinkle in his blue eyes; “like berries they are, floating in cream.” He touched the tips of her breasts with his fingers.

She bowed her back reflexively, like a cat yearning for more.

“Your pleasure in sex gives me back equal pleasure. Like now. I can see in the haze of your green eyes, in the parting of your lips, that you want me.”

“Are you trying to say I’m wild?” The tone she tried for was saucy, but she was unaccustomed to playing games.

“In a good way, yea.” He pulled her down so that she half lay on him. When she extended her legs so that her feet rested atop his, she did in fact cover him. He kissed the side of her head softly and said, “There was a time, before this whole time-travel business, when I had lost my enthusiasm for the bedsport.”

“Oh, no, not the enthusiasm talk again.”

He pretended she hadn’t interrupted. “I was bored with women, no matter how beautiful, no matter how talented. Even with King Svein’s daughter Inga.”

“Oh, please. I have to compete with a princess now?”

“No more interruptions, milady,” he said, chucking her under the chin. “Now one look at you, and my enthusiasm is back with a vengeance.”

“I can tell.” She rubbed herself against his erection for emphasis. Saucy was coming easier to her now.

He swatted her behind. “Behave, wench. You must needs maintain a proper respect for a good enthusiasm.”

“Oh, I do. I do.” She raised her head and looked at him, serious now. “I would miss you if you went away. Don’t go.”

“I do not know if my going or staying is within my control, but know this, heartling, I would miss you, too. And while many things seem out of my control, one thing I can promise: I can make the here and now we share memorable.”

“Got a little humility problem, do you?”

“I am a Viking. Humility is not in our makeup.”

She lowered her lips to his, kissing him softly but thoroughly. When she raised her head, he tried to pull her back down. “You taste good. What have you been eating? Grapes?”

“Not eating, drinking. I had some wine.”

“The Blue Dragon wine?”

She nodded. “Are you going to get an electrical shock just from tasting it on my tongue?” she teased.

“I do not know. We’d better try again and see.” This time it was Max who kissed her, softly but thoroughly. When the kiss ended, he said, “No electrical shock, just a sexual one.”

“Did you bring any condoms with you, cowboy?” she asked, helping him pull his T-shirt over his head without her getting off of him—a real feat!

“Only a dozen,” he answered as he toed his shoes off.

And he was serious.

By the time they got his jeans off—which was not easy, with his refusal to get off the vibrating recliner
and his not wanting her off his body—they were both more than ready for sex. After he helped cover his awe-inspiring “enthusiasm” with a condom, she eased herself down onto him. She could have wept for the sheer ecstasy that slow slide provided her.

“I want to touch you,” he murmured.

But she slapped his hands away. “Not now. Too many sensations hitting me at once. I want to concentrate on one thing at a time.”

He arched his eyebrows in surprise at her orders. He complied, though, by folding his arms behind his head.

Max filled her, and her inner folds adjusted to accommodate him. When she felt in control enough that she wouldn’t go off like a rocket at the merest touch, she leaned forward, bracing her arms on his shoulders. She spread her legs wider, so that a certain spot between her legs would hit his pubic bone. Only then did she begin to move on him, slowly, rocking.

He muttered something in a foreign tongue that probably translated to “holy friggin’ hell!” which was pretty much how she felt. His eyes went wide and he blinked.

She blinked, too.

“Are you done concentrating now?” he gasped out.

“Why?”

“Because …” he said, and showed her. Putting his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her high on him so that she took him even farther inside herself.

She could swear he grew even thicker and longer in that blink of a second.

“I did not know I could do that,” he said, wonderment in his voice. “That is what you do to me … for me,” he declared joyfully.

“I didn’t know I could, either,” she said and began to undulate her body with the rhythm of some teenybopper sexy music video.
Jennifer Lopez, eat your heart out!

Max made a low growling sound of masculine agony deep in his throat.

She was wet, she was throbbing, and she was about to come.

So what did her Viking do? In one fluid movement, he rolled them over so that she was on the bottom and he was on top, still embedded in her.

“Oh, boy!” she said.

“Nay. ‘Oh, man!’ is what you should say.”

But she was speechless, with the velvety chair vibrating under her tush and Max torturing her with long, way-too-slow plunges into her body … plunges that hit her
right there
every time he came home, and left her throbbing when he left.

She began to beg. “Please. Harder. Faster. Now!” She spread her legs wider. She wrapped them around his waist. She dug her nails into his back.

He laughed. The brute. But he did as she’d ordered. Perhaps not such a brute.

She shattered then into about a million sex-charged pieces as he pounded into her one last time. The only saving grace for her was that he was the picture of male-pushed-to-the-limit as he threw back his head and roared out his own awesome climax. She liked to think she had a little to do with that. Okay, a lot.

“You’re smiling,” he observed once they both panted themselves back to normal. He bit her chin as punishment.

“So are you.” She bit his shoulder as punishment.

“Some pick-nack you throw, m’lady,” he said.

“Oh, my goodness! I bet the candles all burned out.” She started to jump up, but Max winced and held her down till he eased himself out of her.

As they strolled back to the bedroom, Max remarked with a bit of consternation, “
My
candle is not at all burned out, that I assure you.”

Burning the candle at both ends, and then some …

It was not the first time Ragnor had sex and food at the same time, but it was the most fun.

Whilst naked, they ate hard and soft cheeses slathered on slices of Frankish bread, washed down with delicious cool wine. The chunks of spiced meat were palatable to him, but the bitter olives were not. They saved the fruit and the remainder of the wine for dessert, which consisted of what Alison aptly called “wild monkey sex.”

They had cleared the bed, taken a shower together, and were now lying on the bed and talking softly as lovers are wont to do. He had to return to the military base within the hour.

She told him of her work as a healer, particularly the patients she’d dealt with this past week. He laughed when she described Flash having bruised his thigh during underwater demolition practice and wanting her to sign a weekend liberty for him to go home to recuperate. “The reason I knew that Flash had an ulterior motive,” Alison explained, “is that there was to be a NASCAR race taking place this weekend, and he was one of four SEAL trainees who had the same brilliant idea.”

“You can’t blame them for trying,” Ragnor said, grinning. “But I can think of better things to do
when given free time than watching cars chase each other around big circles.”

“Like?” she asked, slanting her eyes at him seductively.

“As if you don’t know, you insatiable wanton,” he answered.

Ragnor told her of the grueling week he’d had in SEALs training. “Do not take offense, milady, but your brother has a cruel streak on occasion.”

“His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Hah!”
I have known black bears less vicious than he is.

“Really.”

“When I tried to voice my concerns over this jumping-out-of-the-sky nonsense, he told me, ‘It’s a case of mind over matter, boy. We don’t mind. And you don’t matter.’ ”

She laughed. “That’s an old military saying. Don’t take it personally. And you have to understand that Ian’s been through a lot lately.” She told him how Ian had been betrayed by his betrothed, how the only thing the traitorous woman had left behind was a fat old cat.

“A cat? A
cat
?” he hooted. “I knew it! The chieftain is destined to be with my sister Madrene. She has a cat, too.”

“I’d like to see you convince him to travel back in time, with a cat yet, to be with
your
sister.” She smiled impishly at him. He knew she didn’t accept that he’d time-traveled, but he blessed her for accepting that he believed it.

He loved this impish, playful side of Alison. And he realized that the one thing he had missed about sex for years and years was laughter. The best loveplay had smiles in there somewhere. “If I ever do get
sent back to my own time, methinks I will become a monk,” he declared. “You have ruined me for other women.”

She laughed softly against his chest, then kissed one of his nipples, causing a jolt in his manpart, which amazed him. After all the sex they’d engaged in, his enthusiasm should be all worn down … for today, at least.

“If you’re going to be a monk, then I guess I’d better become a nun,” she said.

“You will be the first hard-bodied nun in history, I warrant.”
Hmmm. I have ne’er had sex with a nun afore. I wonder if Alison would …

“And you’ll be the sexiest priest. All the ladies will want to confess their sins to you.”

I could wear a monk’s tunic. I already have the shaved tonsure. You would wear a religious habit. And …
“Dost have any sins you would like to confess to me, m’lady?” He waggled his eyebrows at her with mock lasciviousness.

“I’ve been having wanton fantasies of late.”

Uh-oh, is she reading my mind? But I like the sound of “wanton.”
“Hmmm. Tell me more, my child.”

“Well, there is this certain Viking—”

“Ah, Vikings! They are a temptation.”
Especially Viking monks.

“That they are,” she agreed.

“Methinks I should levy an appropriate penance.”
By the gods, methinks I would make a grand priest.

“Something involving sex? Tsk-tsk-tsk! That would compound the sin.”

They smiled at each other.

He kissed her lips softly, then grew serious. Time was creeping up on him. “I do not know when I will
see you again. We will be leaving for George-ha in a few days for jump school. I shudder to think of all that will entail. Bloody hell, I shudder to think of getting into an airplane to go to George-ha to begin with. But that is neither here nor there. You must take extra precautions for your safety whilst I am gone. I really wish you would move into the bachelor officers’ quarters on the base. Or go to visit your father.”

She shook her head. It was an argument they’d had before, and he hadn’t won yet.

“Then be extra careful. Try to come home afore dark. Carry that pistol with you. Take no chances.”

“Max! You’re as bad as Ian and my father. I’ll be all right. You’re the one who must take care of yourself. Stop worrying about me.” She kissed him gently to reassure him. A futile gesture.

“When I get back, we will talk,” he told her. “There are many things I have to decide, and all of them involve you.”

Like,
You are the most important thing in my life.

Like,
You really are my destiny.

Like,
Just looking at you takes my breath away.

Like,
I do love you.

Like,
I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

That was what he thought, but he was unable to say the words … and mean them. Yet.

Flying through the air with the greatest of unease …

Ragnor sat in the window seat of the airplane as it soared through the skies. His fists clutched the armrests with a death grip, his stomach roiled with nausea, and he kept his eyes squeezed shut from the minute they went “wheels up” back in Coronado and their officer yelled out to them, “Good to go!”

Not him. He was definitely not “good to go.”

There were about seventy-five SEAL trainees on the plane, along with a few instructors. Chieftain MacLean had stayed behind at Coronado. They would join up with another two hundred or more soldiers from various military “boot camps.” He had no idea what a boot camp was and didn’t care to ask.