by Sandra Hill
Hauk stopped and look at her. “Now you are blushing, on top of the sex flush.”
She felt her face heat even more.
“Does that mean you want to stay here…that you love me?”
“I said like, not love.”
“Ah,” he drawled out, “’twould seem I have more work to do.” Then he added, “I can’t wait.”
Chapter 16
Doctor Seuss never had this in mind…
As Hauk approached the dais, leading Kirstin by the hand, he saw that Zoya did indeed sit in the center of the high table, as he’d feared, and was giving orders and smiling down on her “subjects.” He thought he’d made it clear when he talked to Zoya earlier that she would be leaving Haukshire soon, and had hinted that mayhap she should stay out of sight until then. He should have known better; apparently she hadn’t gotten the hint.
To his disgust, the others at the table, Egil, Thorkel, and Bjorn, were grinning at him, like skyrr-eating piglets, just waiting to see what he would do next.
He wished he knew.
Suddenly, he had an idea and stopped in his tracks. He ordered two nearby housecarls to pull one of the empty trestle tables and a bench up front in the space before the dais. He then directed Signe, who was about to pass by on the way to her seat at the far end of the hall, to go into the treasure room and gather a few objects.
Signe smiled as she became aware of what Hauk was up to.
Soon there was a new table arranged cross-wise to all the lines of trestle tables, and on it had been placed a tablecloth (a luxury even many noble estates did not have), several gold goblets, and even some sterling forks and knives. A new “high table.”
He did not need to look up to know that Zoya would be outraged at being outsmarted.
“Well done!” Kirstin congratulated him, as they sat down facing all his laughing and cheering people, helped along by the large amount of ale they’d already consumed.
“Does that mean you like me even more?” he asked, putting a hand over his heart.
“Maybe a little,” she conceded.
That was good enough for him. Battles were often won by small well-fought skirmishes over time.
“This reminds me of Sneeches,” she said while several housecarls were carrying platters of food and pitchers of ale to their table.
“Sneeches?”
“They’re bird-like creatures in a famous children’s story of modern times. In this book, the star-bellied Sneeches are lording it over the inferior plain-bellied Sneeches. So, some inventive fellow creates a way to put stars on bellies, and soon everyone is equal, which infuriates the original starred birds, and they look for a way to remove their stars so that then the superior Sneeches will be those without stars.”
He frowned with confusion. “What has that to do with us?”
“Well, Zoya was lording it over us by seating herself at the high table, but then you created a new ‘high table’. I guarantee that Zoya will be envious and want to sit here now. Oh, I know it’s a stretch, not a really good comparison.” She waved a hand dismissively.
“Nay, you are correct. Value is in the eye or head of the beholder, and can change at the flick of a wrist. I know a man who collected feathers, all kinds, hundreds of them and he valued them more than other treasures, which caused his comrades to mock him at every chance. Then, one day he decided to sell the collection to some Saxon earl, who paid him fifty mancuses of gold. Guess what his comrades started collecting after that?”
“Feathers,” she guessed. “Actually, the book is considered a lesson in equality, how everyone is the same.”
“That, too, I understand. In fact, I think my setting a table here on the same level with my people sets a good example of how I view them.”
“Exactly,” she said.
He was fairly certain she was liking him even more now.
Thorkel soon joined them and reached for a goblet of ale, downing it in one long swallow.
“What is amiss now?” Hauk asked.
“Zoya…she keeps putting her hand on my thigh, far up. Very far up.”
Hauk grinned. “And that bothers you…why? Seems to me you have always been up for new quarry.”
“I am trying to woo Signe.”
“Woo?”
“Seduce.”
“With serious intent?”
Thorkel hesitated, but then nodded. “’Tis past time I wed and start a family.”
This was something new for his friend who had quite a reputation for his numerous female conquests. Rumor was that he’d once served three women in his bed furs, at the same time. “And Signe is not jumping with delight?”
“Pfff! Not even a little.”
“Why? You are passable in appearance.” In truth, he was godly handsome. “And you should have wealth enough by now to establish your own homestead.”
Thorkel nodded his agreement with Hauk’s assessment, but then he explained, “She says I am like a randy bull who will mount any cow that lifts its tail.”
Hauk let loose with a hoot of laughter, but Thorkel appeared so doleful that Hauk put a hand over his mouth to hide his mirth.
Kirstin leaned forward to look at Thorkel and advised, “Have you tried celibacy for a while?”
Both Hauk and Thorkel drew back with horror. Hauk knew from recent experience how difficult it was to go without sex for a long period of time, but in his case the celibacy had been forced. He couldn’t imagine doing it willingly.
“You would not be practicing the more danico if Signe agreed to marry you, would you?” Kirstin persisted.
Thorkel’s face heated with color. “I hadn’t considered that question.”
“Well, you should. If Signe objects to your past horndog behavior, she would certainly insist on fidelity in marriage. That’s just my opinion, of course.”
Both Hauk and Thorkel mouthed “horndog?” at each other, then grinned when they understood.
“My wife has very strong opinions,” Hauk told Thorkel.
Kirsten elbowed him.
“What? That was a compliment.”
“A half-assed one.”
“You do have a way with words, wife,” he said, hugging her to his side and kissing the top of her head.
Zoya soon stormed out of the hall, her chin in the air. To her chagrin, no doubt, no one protested her leaving early. But now that Zoya was gone, the rest of the evening proceeded without problems.
“Too bad you don’t have a skald,” Kirstin said. “It would be nice entertainment.”
“Hah! The first thing any poet would do is tell some saga about a Viking in a cage. I can think of a dozen other things, mayhap two dozen, that would give me more pleasure.” In fact, just sitting here in his hall, minus any entertainment, was one of the best evenings Hauk had enjoyed in a long time, not the least of which was attributed to the presence of his wife beside him and the promise of what was to come when they left the hall.
“I think you’re too sensitive over the cage thing,” she said.
He shrugged, not wanting to discuss that horrible cage and how annoyed he got every time someone brought it up in jest. Looking for a change of subject, he glanced around the hall at all the happy faces and told her, “You’ve stolen my people’s hearts.”
“Me? Are you sure? How do you know?”
“Look how many toasts they’ve raised to you.”
“Hah! They’re Vikings. They would raise a toast to a troll if it meant more booze. That means ale or mead or wine or whiskey.”
He tilted his head in agreement. “You may be right.”
Actually, there had been an uncommon number of toasts, and everyone, even Kirstin and himself, was halfway to drukkinn. “Methinks it’s time for us to end this feast. I must be up early to travel with the hunters.”
“Y’know, Hauk,” Thorkel slurred out, “by marryin’ in the Saxon lands, you deprived us of the brud-hlaup.” He belched before adding. “A good bride-runnin’, thass what we…” His words trailed off a
s he seemed to forget what he was saying, or maybe he was distracted by Signe walking by and deliberately ignoring him and yet swaying her hips suggestively.
Hauk looked at Kirstin and raised his eyebrows with exaggerated interest. “A bride-running?”
“Don’t you dare,” she said. But then, she jumped up and began to run along an outer aisle on the left side of the hall.
He laughed and ran after her in another aisle, leaping onto a bench and launching himself over to the other side of the table. Everyone in the crowd was laughing and cheering him on, a few of them making ribald suggestions. He arrived at the guest bedchamber just before Kirstin. He opened the door and stood aside, waving a hand to bow her in.
She gazed at him suspiciously.
The ritual called for the husband to smack his new wife’s arse with the flat side of a sword to indicate he was the master of their household. Since he had no sword on him, he used the flat of his hand to swat her bottom. “Now we are truly wedded, wife.”
“Hah! Just because you touch my ass doesn’t make you a husband.”
They were both in the bedchamber by now, and he slammed the door behind him. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “What would make me truly your husband, in your mind?”
She told him in terms so explicit that his jaw dropped.
He didn’t even know what one of those words meant. Still, he boasted, “Any time, sweetling.” He was a Viking, after all. He would figure it out.
Beware the very virile Viking…
Kirstin was confused. And being confused when a superb specimen of Norse virility was stripping in front of her and urging her to do the same…well, her brain just wasn’t working properly. In fact, women often said that men’s brains were located about three feet below their heads; the same could be said of her at the moment. And she was a person who’d always placed such emphasis on her brain.
Jeesh!
Maybe she could blame the amount of ale she’d imbibed with her dinner. She was a little tipsy. And she did feel dizzy, like she had an internal pendulum. Yes, I will/No, I won’t. I should/I shouldn’t. What would be the harm/The harm would be monumental. It would be fun/Fun is overrated. Come to Mama/No, no, no, I am not a Mama.
Jeesh!
There were two candles burning in the room, along with a small wall torch…extravagances that people rarely used in this time period. Hauk had gone to a lot of trouble for some very obvious purpose. Me.
Jeesh!
“Hauk…,” she started to say.
“Nay, nay, nay. Do not say we need to talk. No more talking! I am not listening.” He put his hands over his ears.
How did he know I was going to say that?
Jeesh!
He must have read her thoughts, because he just smiled, even as he was stepping out of his braies, at the same time doing some more beckoning of his fingertips for her to take her turn in stripping, now that he’d dropped his hands from his ears. He stood in front of her, wearing only his smallclothes, sort of a loincloth type of garment. He’d already removed his belt, tunic, and boots.
Jeesh, jeesh, jeesh!
She backed up a step and hit the side of the bed, almost toppling over. It’s not that she didn’t intend to make love with him, despite all her vacillating. That was a foregone conclusion hours ago, probably back when he’d dealt so sensitively with the little boy, Gorm, then cemented when he managed to handle the Zoya situation without Kirstin being humiliated. Besides, she’d already made love with him back in the bathing hut, even though it had been a mistake. In truth, every time she succumbed to his temptations, it was a mistake, knowing that she would eventually be returning to the future. Probably. And she was risking pregnancy. Possibly.
Her reluctance at this moment was due to something else entirely. Her overactive hormones. She didn’t want to appear overeager and jump his bones without any foreplay. Now that would be humiliating.
Pushing himself away from the door and taking one step, and one step only, he asked in a voice that sounded sex-husky, “Do you know what I want to do tonight?”
She glanced pointedly at the tent in his loincloth and arched her brows.
He laughed. “Nay, not that. Well, yea, that, but later. I want to take my time tonight. Deep, wet, tongue kisses, the kind you taught me to appreciate, you know, the ones that go on and on and on until you are mewling your need. Then caresses of your body that alternate between soft and skimming, with hard and squeezing. All this I will do until you are begging me to enter you, but I will make you wait while I pleasure-torture you some more. Finally I will enter you, and I promise, my stubborn wife, I will remain hard through many, many thrusts, long and short, gentle and strong, slow and fast till you are screaming with your peakings, coming one on top of another.”
Oh. My. Goodess. Kirstin was wet just listening to the man.
She must have a stunned expression on her face because he asked, “Why do you resist me at every turn? You already know that we can flush each other.”
She laughed. “That sounds like a toilet.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” This was silly. She was thirty-five years old, not some shy virgin teenager.
But then he unwound the loincloth thingee and she got an up close and personal look at his very impressive erection. She might have blinked several times to make sure she was seeing clearly.
“Stop looking at me, or this bedsport will be over before we begin.”
He was right. As she stared…or rather gaped…he grew even more. “You have the same effect on me,” she blurted out.
“I do?” He tilted his head to the side as he studied her, looking for some physical sign of her arousal, which of course he wouldn’t see until she disrobed. Her nipples, for example, felt turgid and achy, against the silk fabric of her gown.
What the hell! she thought and undid the laces down the sides of her gown, then tugged the garments off her arms to pool at her hips. She didn’t look down at herself, knowing what she would see, but she did look at Hauk, and was rewarded with the flare of his nostrils and the licking of his suddenly dry lips.
He was disconcerted for only a moment, though. He stepped right up to her and ran the back of his finger up and down over her nipples.
She stiffened her body and arched her head back, but she couldn’t stop the little moan of pleasure that escaped her lips.
He started to chuckle.
But she couldn’t have that. “That just makes us even,” she said, glancing pointedly at his penis which was pointing upward at her.
“Ah, I did not know this was a contest,” he said with obvious satisfaction. Before she could guess his next move, he yanked her gown the rest of the way down and lifted her out of the puddle of fabric on the floor before tossing her onto the mattress, then coming up and over her.
The sound of straw being crushed filled the room, that and the sound of their heavy breathing.
Hauk was propped on extended arms, his body arranged between her thighs, which he spread wider with his legs. Raising his head to look down at her, he moved his hips from side to side to better arrange his erection against the most sensitive part of her, then said, “Greetings, wife.”
What could she say to that? “I like the way you say hello.”
“I can tell.”
“How can you tell?” The minute she asked, she wished she could take the words back.
Sure enough, he smiled and winked at her. “Your woman dew is nigh soaking the mattress.”
“Oooh!” she said, mortified, and tried to shove him off.
To no avail. He pressed his hips harder against hers.
But then she relaxed and confessed, “That’s why I was hesitant to make love with you. I was already so turned on by you that I was afraid I would be embarrassed.”
“You and your embarrassments!” He nipped her bare shoulder with his teeth in punishment, then licked the spot to soothe it. “So, your enthusiasm rose in response to the size of my�
��um, endowments?”
She laughed and leaned up to nip his shoulder, too, but not bothering with the licking. “No. Actually, I was most turned on by your words, promising what you planned to do to me.”
“Really?” he said, frowning with concentration as he no doubt filed that information for future reference. She could just about hear his mind working. Best seduction technique: words, not cock. All guys, whether twenty-first or eleventh century era, had those kind of mental playbooks.
“Not that your…um, endowments…aren’t amazing.”
He nodded, as if that was a given. He was still digesting her remarks about his words wooing her more than the size of his amazingness.
“Isn’t it time for you to get on with your promises?” she asked then.
“Isn’t it time for you to rest your tongue,” he countered, “unless it is in my mouth. Then it can definitely move.”
“Seems to me that you’re the one with a whole lot of talk and a lot less action.”
“A challenge?” He grinned and made a growling sound against her neck.
She laughed, especially because his breath tickled her ear. “Should I be afraid?”
“Very afraid.”
Every Viking wanted to get the last word in, and Kirstin was a Viking, no matter her gender. So, not to be outdone, she said, “I can’t wait.”
Hauk smiled then, slow and lazy and supremely sexy before he raised his hips and surprised her by thrusting himself into her, to the hilt. No foreplay. No warning. Just “Go in and go big.” Especially big.
Kirstin realized that she’d stepped into his trap.
Beware the virile Viking.
Chapter 17
Not his most shining moment, or was it?…
Oops! Hauk thought on finding himself imbedded in Kirstin’s moist depths.
Without one bit of foresport on my part!
Like an untried youthling!
“Oops” was the word Kirstin used when she accidentally did something, wasn’t it?
