beg him for rest.
If there was a blessing to his awful night terrors, it was that they always seemed to stir in him the need to assert his strength, and Kadlin was only too willing to be conquered by her big Viking. She trusted him with her life—giving over her body and soul to this magnificent man was her honor and her desire.
Because the game was more exciting when the prize was hard-won, she pushed off of his chest and moved as though she intended to flee from their bed. He caught her arm and jerked her back against the furs.
“Oh, no you don’t, imp.” She giggled as she fought against his hold, confident that she was no match for his strength and even more glad for it. She struck out at him with hands and feet, and he subdued her by sitting on her thighs and catching her wrists in one massive hand.
“So that’s the game you’re playing at,” he growled.
Kadlin struggled just enough to heighten the illusion as he reached for the shearling restraints that always dangled from the bedposts and secured them around her wrists and ankles until she was spread out for his pleasure.
He knelt between her knees, and she raised her head to look at his huge manhood. It was so engorged that it nearly brushed his taut belly. The sight of it caused her pulse to race. He reached up to touch the outline of her lips, and she pulled his finger into her mouth and sucked hard at it. She could feel the coolness of her saliva as he traced a path down her chin and throat, then over her heart.
As his hand neared the center of her breast, the nipple puckered. Bjorn grazed the hardened bead, and it was as though it were connected to her sex by an invisible thread. He rolled it between his finger and thumb—gently at first—teasing her until she cried out in frustration but when he finally pinched hard, she arched into him and felt the warm wetness of her lust gather in her secret folds.
The Viking tightened his grip then twisted the pink flesh, and the balance of pleasure and pain was exquisite. When she thought she could take no more, he released the aching peak and bent to slurp it into his mouth, alternately sucking and swirling his tongue until her entire focus was on that tiny spot. Then his hand was between her legs, and he squeezed hard at the soft mound. With one finger, he followed the slick divide with a feather-light touch. Kadlin raised her hips, trying to force him to delve inside, but he only pulled his hand away, leaving her groaning with need.
Raising his head, he smiled down at her. “Oh, poor little imp, is that sweet sheath aching for my touch?”
“Please, Bjorn,” she panted.
He slid down her body, leaving a trail of kisses behind until his head was between her thighs. “I can smell your want, my love, and it makes my mouth water.” His breath ruffled her curls, and again, she lifted herself toward him. He pressed his lips at the top of her crease, and each time she tried to push against him, he moved with her—always maintaining contact but never giving her relief. Finally, she forced herself to be still and was rewarded by the press of his tongue against her cresting pearl.
“Ah,” she sighed.
Tickling the inside of her thighs with his fingertips, he lapped softly at the throbbing nub, driving her mad with want. Kadlin bit her lip, concentrating on keeping her hips motionless.
“Good girl,” he whispered, and the vibration of his deep voice fueled her lust. She had pleased him with her submission, so he thanked her by sucking the little jewel between his lips and plunging a thick finger into her. Kadlin’s release was immediate, causing her to cry out his name.
Even as she bucked against him, he slurped hard at her most sensitive place and stuffed another finger inside of her. Waves of pleasure shook her body, but she was not allowed to step back from the cliff. Bjorn continued to tease the enlivened flesh until she whimpered. Kadlin struggled not to say, “Stop.” In their years together,
If there was a blessing to his awful night terrors, it was that they always seemed to stir in him the need to assert his strength, and Kadlin was only too willing to be conquered by her big Viking. She trusted him with her life—giving over her body and soul to this magnificent man was her honor and her desire.
Because the game was more exciting when the prize was hard-won, she pushed off of his chest and moved as though she intended to flee from their bed. He caught her arm and jerked her back against the furs.
“Oh, no you don’t, imp.” She giggled as she fought against his hold, confident that she was no match for his strength and even more glad for it. She struck out at him with hands and feet, and he subdued her by sitting on her thighs and catching her wrists in one massive hand.
“So that’s the game you’re playing at,” he growled.
Kadlin struggled just enough to heighten the illusion as he reached for the shearling restraints that always dangled from the bedposts and secured them around her wrists and ankles until she was spread out for his pleasure.
He knelt between her knees, and she raised her head to look at his huge manhood. It was so engorged that it nearly brushed his taut belly. The sight of it caused her pulse to race. He reached up to touch the outline of her lips, and she pulled his finger into her mouth and sucked hard at it. She could feel the coolness of her saliva as he traced a path down her chin and throat, then over her heart.
As his hand neared the center of her breast, the nipple puckered. Bjorn grazed the hardened bead, and it was as though it were connected to her sex by an invisible thread. He rolled it between his finger and thumb—gently at first—teasing her until she cried out in frustration but when he finally pinched hard, she arched into him and felt the warm wetness of her lust gather in her secret folds.
The Viking tightened his grip then twisted the pink flesh, and the balance of pleasure and pain was exquisite. When she thought she could take no more, he released the aching peak and bent to slurp it into his mouth, alternately sucking and swirling his tongue until her entire focus was on that tiny spot. Then his hand was between her legs, and he squeezed hard at the soft mound. With one finger, he followed the slick divide with a feather-light touch. Kadlin raised her hips, trying to force him to delve inside, but he only pulled his hand away, leaving her groaning with need.
Raising his head, he smiled down at her. “Oh, poor little imp, is that sweet sheath aching for my touch?”
“Please, Bjorn,” she panted.
He slid down her body, leaving a trail of kisses behind until his head was between her thighs. “I can smell your want, my love, and it makes my mouth water.” His breath ruffled her curls, and again, she lifted herself toward him. He pressed his lips at the top of her crease, and each time she tried to push against him, he moved with her—always maintaining contact but never giving her relief. Finally, she forced herself to be still and was rewarded by the press of his tongue against her cresting pearl.
“Ah,” she sighed.
Tickling the inside of her thighs with his fingertips, he lapped softly at the throbbing nub, driving her mad with want. Kadlin bit her lip, concentrating on keeping her hips motionless.
“Good girl,” he whispered, and the vibration of his deep voice fueled her lust. She had pleased him with her submission, so he thanked her by sucking the little jewel between his lips and plunging a thick finger into her. Kadlin’s release was immediate, causing her to cry out his name.
Even as she bucked against him, he slurped hard at her most sensitive place and stuffed another finger inside of her. Waves of pleasure shook her body, but she was not allowed to step back from the cliff. Bjorn continued to tease the enlivened flesh until she whimpered. Kadlin struggled not to say, “Stop.” In their years together,
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