Page 44 of Viking Unchained

“I can guess. You probably pulled wham-bams in bed with her. No foreplay. No sweet words. Just stick it in and satisfy yourself. Two minutes in the sack and a day full of loneliness.”

Lydia’s assessment hit closer to the truth than he liked. “I satisfied you.”

“Well, you know, it’s been five years. Anything in pants could have done the trick for me.”

That was a low blow. “What did you do for these long five years to find release? A passionate woman like you would not do without.”

“Same as you, buster.”

It took several moments for him to understand. “You pleasure yourself?”

Her face bloomed with color.

Was there ever such a woman as this? “Do you blush, m’lady?” He paused. “Frigg’s feet, you do!”

“Hey, this is the twenty-first century. Women have just as much right to sexual gratification as men.”

Gods bless the twenty-first century. A slow smile crept over his mouth. “Show me.”

“I . . . I beg your pardon.”

“Take off that garment and show me.” Before I explode with overenthusiasm.

“I will not. Besides, lunch is ready.”

“Food can wait.” ’Tis food of another type I crave.

“No.”

“Do you say me nay?” Not in this lifetime, wench.

"N. O. No.”

Dost want to wager on that? “That is a word I will not accept. You have two choices. Either I bind you to your bed, spread-eagled and naked, as I was. Or you show me how you pleasure yourself.”

She gulped a few times. “I can’t. Don’t ask me to. Please.”

“Would you do it for Dave?” He thought of something then. “Did you ever do it for Dave?”

The deepening flush on her cheeks was answer enough.

He was beginning to really dislike this husband of hers, even dead. “Do it!”

She closed her eyes and brushed her fingertips over her breasts, bringing the nipples into even greater prominence. Then, while one hand played with her nipples, the other skimmed over her abdomen and belly to caress the joining of her thighs.

Oh, my gods and goddesses! He had never expected her to actually do it. He had been teasing. But now that she was, every male particle in his body was standing to attention. And his manpart was standing more than all the rest.

“Take off your garment,” he said in a raw voice.

Her eyes flew open, and they were filled with tears. Of panic. And shame.

In truth, he had intended to shame her, but now he found himself filled with the same emotion. He understood, without being told, that when she had done this in the past with her husband, it had been an act performed with love . . . a love given and returned. A pang of jealousy shot through him, an emotion he had never felt before.

That did not mean he would end this game anytime soon. He was not a total lackwit.

“Come here. I will help you,” he said, feeling sympathy for her modesty, which he was raking through the coals . . . erotic coals, to be sure, with or without the love element.

Slowly, she walked toward him, chin high. When she stood between his widespread knees, he eased the straps off her shoulders and arms, then peeled the rest of the garment down to her feet.