Page 12 of Viking in Love

CHAPTER TWELVE

I t was a hairy situation…

Breanne’s entire body was humming. Truly, it was amazing, as if every portion of her skin, all the nooks and crannies, was being alerted to something stupendous about to happen.

Caedmon lowered himself to lie atop her.

Oh. My. Gods! She gasped at the feel of his chest hairs against her breasts.

He raised himself slightly, and, as if he could read her mind, moved his chest from side to side so the coarse hairs could abrade her already erect nipples. She closed her eyes and saw bright lights behind the lids, so intense was the pleasure. Do it again. Do it again. Do it again.

“Do you like that, dearling?” he whispered. When she did not…could not…answer, he urged, “Open your eyes, Breanne, and tell me.”

I like it overmuch. “I suppose it is all right.” Do it again.

He nipped her chin with his teeth, not convinced, but lout that he was, he stopped the chest caresses. Instead, he began to kiss her again, another form of sweet torment.

Unlike the earlier hungry kisses, these were gentle and slow and slumberous, as if he had all the time in the world. Taking him by the ears, she lifted his head. “Not like that.” Do the other thing with your chest hairs.

A laugh rumbled up from deep in his throat. “Now you are an expert on kissing?”

“I know what I like.” Chest hairs.

“You do not like soft, coaxing kisses?”

“Bloody hell, man! I am already coaxed. Move on to something more…more…”

“Vigorous?”

Exactly. “If you insist.”

He was smiling down at her, and, oh, the lout had a smile that would tempt a saint. “Like this?” He traced the outline of her lips with his tongue and murmured, “Didst know you have a siren mouth?”

“I beg your pardon!” She was trying her best to be a compliant sex partner, and he insulted her!

“That was a compliment. I meant that your mouth is lush and so kissome, it draws a man, like a siren. It gives men ideas.”

“Seems to me you have ideas enough,” she huffed out. If you do not give me a chest-hair caress again, and soon, I am going to wallop you over your fool head.

He rubbed the wetness on her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. She tried to nip at it, but he pulled away just in time, his eyes crinkling with humor. When their mouths melded now, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, slowly, buried deep, then slid back out. In. Then out. In. Then out. Breanne was not too clear on the details of swiving, but she was fairly certain this rhythm matched what he would be doing to her below. All right, then. Mayhap I could give up the chest-hair caressing for tongue caressing.

Next time he thrust into her mouth, she sucked on his tongue, causing his body to jerk. But then she felt him smile against her mouth; so, she assumed she had done the right thing. Thus encouraged, she sucked some more, then tentatively tried dipping her tongue into his mouth.

He groaned.

Breanne was mentally congratulating herself as she came to understand that groans were good in bedplay. She vowed then to make the knave do a lot of groaning before the night was over.

Now, while his kiss turned lustsome, his hands were busy on other parts of her body. Her aching breasts, her buttocks, the backs of her knees. By the gods! Who knew the backs of my knees could be so sensitive to touch? Suddenly, he raised his head and said, with chagrin, “Breanne! Your eyes are open. Why?”

She liked the way his lips were a bit puffy from her kisses and his breathing was ragged. ’Twas a heady feeling, knowing she could do this to him. “I am trying to concentrate.”

“On what, pray tell?”

“Everything. You are doing so many things at once. Can you not finish one task at a time?”

“Task?” The grinning lackwit was having great fun at her expense.

“Besides, how will I know what you are doing if I cannot see?”

“Just close your eyes, sweetling, and I will tell you when there is something good to see.”

She succumbed to the forceful domination of his kisses then and only closed her eyes when he moved down her body and began to suckle at her breasts. Turns out that big breasts were not a necessity for lovemaking. Turns out big nipples were good for something.

Ribbons of heat unfurled in her as he brought her to another of those peaking things, just by fondling her breasts and dipping his talented fingers into her woman folds. She had scarce caught her breath when he whispered, “Now you can look.”

With arms levered on either side of her head, he was positioned betwixt her thighs, his phallus at her woman’s portal. “Are you ready?”

“How would I know?” she snapped.

Slowly he pushed himself inside her, only a little, then pulled out. Then, in a little more, then out again.

“You are so tight,” he grunted out. “So wonderfully tight.”

She could tell when he hit her maidenhead, but it only pinched a bit, and the pain was soon gone, replaced by the most amazing fullness. Sweat beading his forehead, he rocked in and out of her until finally he was buried to the hilt. He rested then, forehead to forehead, and asked, “Have I hurt you?”

“Just a little. Do not stop.”

He grinned. “Not a chance.”

While he rested inside her, her inner muscles stretched and shifted to accommodate his size.

“You feel like a hot velvet sheath,” he whispered. “Oh. My. God! Keep welcoming me like that.”

She had no idea she had been doing any welcoming. “It feels as if my womanparts are weeping around your hardness.”

“Your woman dew,” he explained. “Like warm honey, it is.”

“Are we done fornicating?” If so, I liked the chest-hair caresses better.

He laughed heartily, and she felt the ripples of his humor inside, along her inner… yea, I notice now …clasping folds.

He began to move then, long tortuous strokes, so slow she wanted to hit him, so delicious she wanted to bite his shoulder to hold back a scream of ecstacy. When he alternated with hard, shorter pummels, he actually lifted her body, so strong were the thrusts. By now she was mindless and writhing in tortuous pleasure.

And then he stopped.

He bloody hell stopped.

It took her a moment to see through the haze of arousal. He was clearly as aroused as she was, if not more, but he was fighting it.

“What?” she whimpered. If this is all, I am going to be very, very disappointed.

With a grim smile, he rolled over, his manpart still inside her, taking her with him. Now she lay atop him. Gently, he took her by the shoulders, pressing until she sat up, astride him.

For a second, he closed his eyes and hissed through gritted teeth. She had that effect on him, she realized with glee, and swung her hips from side to side to test her powers.

“Witch!” he said, putting his hands on her waist to hold her in place. Then he said, “Your turn.”

At first, she was confused. She had no clue what to do. But then she realized what a position she was in, and she did the only thing she could.

She leaned forward and rubbed her breasts back and forth across his bristly chest hairs.

Off to the races…

Caedmon had always prided himself on his stamina in the bedsport, but this was ridiculous. If he did not peak soon, he was going to set some kind of record for male virility.

He had to smile at that notion.

But then he could not smile anymore.

Breanne sat atop his belly like a bloody queen. Due to the heat and their exertions, her red hair had turned curly, with wild waves framing her face and falling on her shoulders and back. Her lips were reddened and swollen more than usual. Her raspberry nipples pointed at him like fingers of accusation.

Flipping her hair back, she leaned forward and brushed her breasts over and over, side to side, over him. The nipples kept snagging in his chest hairs.

Gaaaaaaaaa!

“Does that feel as good to you as it does to me?” She slanted him a sultry look.

Gaaaaaaaaa! “You know very well it does. Every time you move, my cock smiles inside you.”

“A smiling cock?” She arched her brows provocatively.

What kind of monster have I created here?

Nay, not a monster: a goddess of sex.

“Why are you grinning like the cat who swallowed all the cream?” said Caedmon.

“Because I feel like the cat who swallowed all the cream.”

He cupped her small breasts from underneath and lifted them. If I am to die from overstimulation, this will surely be the way to go.

She looked down and inhaled sharply.

He gloried in the fact that she was so responsive. He had not expected this bounty. “Do you ride, Breanne?”

“Of course I ride.” She frowned. “What an odd question to ask at a time like this.”

“Not so odd.” Come closer, little ant. Lord Spider has something to show you.

“How could you think of horses when…oh, my!”

He had lifted her by the hips until she almost escaped his impalement, then down. Up. Down. Her jaw was gaping open with wonder.

Making women gape in bed was his second-best talent. Next to…“Not horses, dearling. Men. This man, in particular. Dost think you could ride me?”

She still knelt astride him, unmoving once again, her rump raised slightly. He put one hand to the back of her waist, and used the other hand to strum the pearl of her arousal, which he could see peeking through her nether hair. Like a pink jewel amongst red fleece.

She gaped some more before bursting forth with laughter. A joyous tingling sound.

Then she challenged him.

“Canter or gallop, m’lord?”

Lout sex, oh, yeah!…

Breanne was stunned.

Well, that was an understatement. But, really, she was going to have words with Tyra next time she saw her. How could her sister have kept this information from her? Why had she never mentioned that sex could be so…so exciting? Aside from the bone-melting excitement, it had been satisfying physically, and it had been fun.

If sex with a lout could be so amazing, she could only imagine what it would be like with a man she loved. Truly, Breanne’s perceptions of men and women, marriage, and relationships were undergoing a change. She would need to rethink all her old ideas.

Glancing to her side where the lout was asleep, splayed out on his back, she had to smile that she had depleted him so.

From his finely sculpted face, over broad shoulders and wide chest, narrow waist and hips, muscular thighs and calves, and, yea, the now limp manpart, she had to admit he was an attractive man. And what he had been able to do with that body was commendable.

Now, however, she was not sure what women did in situations such as this. Was she supposed to just lie here until he awakened and had need of her again? Hah! Not bloody likely.

Easing her hair out from under one of his arms, she slid across the mattress, when a hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Where do you think you are going?”

She half turned from where she sat at the side of the bed. He was gazing at her sleepily, an insufferable smile of triumph lifting the edges of his lips. “Back to my bedchamber.”

“Why?”

“To sleep?”

He shook his head. “You sleep here, with me, for the next nine and a half nights.” He put particular emphasis on the half night part, to remind her, she supposed, that she had not yet fulfilled her bargain.

As if to emphasize that fact, he yanked on her arm, pulling her back and over him. On the way, her hip met the wet spot where he had released his seed, to prevent a pregnancy. When she tried to roll off, he secured her with arms like manacles about her waist.

He stared up at her for a long time, saying nothing.

“What?” she finally asked, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

His head lifted so he could brush his lips against hers, ever so gently. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“The most satisfying bedplay I have ever engaged in.”

She cast him a skeptical glance.

“You were wonderful, dearling. A great surprise.”

“Didst think I would be like a broom in bed?”

“Something like that.” He chuckled. “Did you enjoy it?”

She thought about lying, but it was no use. She had behaved like a strumpet. “Yea, I did. And you were a surprise, too.”

“How so?”

“I will not tell you. Your ego is too large as it is.”

“There are other parts of me that are large, too.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

He did not need to tell her that. She felt it growing against her hip.

“There are so many things I want to do with you,” he said, his voice husky in a masculine way.

“What sort of things?” she asked before she could bite her tongue.

“Ah, sweetling, I thought you would never ask.” He proceeded to tell her, in detail.

“You jest,” she said at one point.

Which prompted him to elaborate on even more wicked, incredible activities.

“It would take a month, in fact, many months to do all that.”

“And we have only nine and a half nights. Guess we need to get to work quick then. What would you like to do first?”

“I would like you to bathe me,” she said, surprising even herself.

“And will you bathe me in return?”

She tapped her lips as if pondering. “Would there be massaging oil involved?”

“For a certainty.”

“Well, then, lout, it is a deal.”

He was always on her mind…and other places…

Four days later, after having sex in more ways and in more places than she would have ever imagined possible, Breanne’s lips and nipples were raw from Caedmon’s constant attentions. Raw in a nice way. Even air felt like a lover’s caress, so that when he wasn’t around, she was still reminded of him.

But then, Caedmon had told her just this morn that his manpart was raw, quickly adding, “Not that I am complaining.”

Thus, she was in her bedchamber, with the upper part of her gunna hanging down to her hips, applying some ointment to her breasts when Amicia came in, without knocking. “Oh, sorry ta disturb ye, but I need some help down in the kitchen with…oh, blessed Mary!” The cook burst out laughing, so hard that she was soon bent over at the waist, and tears welled in her eyes.

“What is so funny?” Breanne asked, tugging her dress back up and lacing it at the neck.

“You? You have succumbed to the master’s seduction. I tol’ ya he was a devil with the wimmen. They cannot resist his charms.”

If only Amicia knew! It hadn’t taken much charming to get her in his bed.

“What is the problem in the kitchen?”

“I forget the directions fer the eel brine that yer sister makes.”

She walked alongside the cook down to the kitchen.

Before they got there, Amicia put a halting hand on her arm. “Methinks ya could use some of the powders Rashid gave ta me.”

“I have no head megrims.” Just another kind of ache.

“Not that kind of powder. These are the kind that prevent the babes from comin’. Remember, Lady Havenshire told us of them some days ago.”

Hmmmm! “Do they work?”

Amicia shrugged. “Be damned if I know, but he says they be used by them harem harlots. Love slaves.” Motioning for Breanne to stay there, Amicia rushed off, then came back with a small palm-sized sack lined with parchment. Inside was the powder.

Well, if it was good enough for harem harlots, she supposed it would be good enough for her. In truth, that was what she was, in some ways. Caedmon’s love slave.

She could not wait to tell him.

No doubt he would have some ideas related to harems. She had a few ideas herself.

Whaaat?

What is happening to me?

Was I always wicked beneath the surface? Or is it only this man who turns me wanton?

Aaarrgh!

With those horrific ideas riddling her brain, Breanne decided to go build a bench…or a cow byre…or just pull her hair out, one strand at a time.

On the way, she was stalled in the great hall, where Caedmon was holding shire court. While he was hearing the complaint of a man who said his neighbor had stolen a cow, Caedmon glanced up and saw her. She could not break the eye contact for a long moment while they both thought of all that had gone on between them, and what was yet to come. That was what went through her frazzled mind. The air fair sizzled. Then he smiled, and Breanne’s bones almost melted. Truly, that was the unacceptable effect the lout was having on her.

Despite the small amount of sleep she had been getting, she seemed to be bright-eyed and energetic during the daytime as she attempted to take over the duties that Vana and Ingrith had organized so well. As for the outside and Drifa’s flowers and herbs, they would have to live or die without her help. She had no talent with growing things. But, no matter what she was doing, Caedmon appeared to be always on her mind.

With an exhale of disgust, she sank down to a bench at the back of the hall, and watched and listened as Caedmon wielded his own brand of justice. And she was impressed. He listened carefully, he weighed all sides, he displayed a rare sense of humor, and was firm when he finally made a decision. And the cases ran the gamut from petty theft to murder to failure to pay taxes.

As she sat, all his children, one by one—except for Hugh, who sat at Caedmon’s right—plopped down beside and across from her. They were like burrs in the wind, and she the shaggy sheep in their path. They followed her everywhere, except to Caedmon’s bedchamber, and then only because he locked them out.

She wasn’t surprised by Piers coming to her with outstretched hands, climbing up onto her lap, but she was surprised by Angus sitting on the bench next to her, up close. The surly little boy, who looked so different from the rest, was the butt of numerous pranks, many of them just harmless youthling teases, but he did not see them that way. And, rather than break out in tears, he stiffened his little back and hurled insults back at them.

Right off, they besieged her with their complaints and entreaties.

“Kendrick pinched my arse.”

“I did not! I was flicking off some pig snot.”

“Can I ride a horse? If Beth can have a pony, why do I get naught?”

“I am bigger than you, bratling. Ride a goat, if you must.”

“Go bugger yerself.”

“What is a bugger?”

“Why are your lips so red?”

“Father kisses her, that is why.”

“Oh, you! Kisses do not make lips red.”

“He looks at her like he could eat her up, like that tasty boar sauce.”

“Oslac, you are daft. How could he eat her up?”

“I could tell you—”

Beth slapped a hand over Oslac’s mouth. “Desist with that kind of talk.” Beth smiled slyly at Breanne then and said, “We must needs be polite to Lady Breanne if we want her to stay.”

“You want me to stay? How nice! But I cannot stay indefinitely. Just until my sisters return.”

Mina began to cry at that news, and Angus sniffled.

“We took a vote,” Alfred said, as if that meant she had no choice.

“You are gonna be our mother,” Aidan finished for his twin.

“You are better than the last trollop who shared our father’s bed,” Joanna remarked.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Breanne said, then sighed inwardly. Even the children knew she was behind locked door with the lout every night, engaged in bedplay.

But Joanna was not done with her observations. “Phew! ’Twas a close call, that one. Lady Anise had already buried four husbands and was looking toward Larkspur for a new acquisition.”

“She smelled funny,” Angus said.

“Perfume,” Beth replied. “She used splashes of perfume, rather than bathing.”

“Well, we got rid of her, did we not? Methinks it was the frog in her washbowl,” Kendrick observed, a mischievous gleam in his big brown eyes.

“Or the worms in her porridge,” Joanna added, a matching gleam in her brown eyes.

“I farted every time she walked by.” Oslac grinned, as if that were some great feat.

Enough was enough! Breanne was able to escape because Hugh had just come up behind her and said, “Father wants you to come up to the dais and give him counsel on a difficult case.”

“Me?”

“Yea. You may have an opinion that would help.”

She glanced up, and Caedmon was indeed looking her way, and beckoning with his fingertips.

“I will take the children outdoors,” Hugh offered.

When she sat down on the right of Caedmon behind the table, she told him, “I hate when you do that fingers-beckoning thing. It makes me feel like a pet dog.”

“I know,” he said and tugged her chair closer to his. Then, as if she had not even spoken, he whispered in her ear, “Greetings, my lady love.” For everyone else’s benefit, he said loudly, “Lady Breanne, we need a woman’s view on this particular matter.”

Since when? Suspicious of the rogue’s intent, she studied the three people before them. Two women— big-bosomed, of course —bracketed one of Caedmon’s hersirs, whose face was flushed with a combination of anger and embarrassment.

“Repeat the complaint for us, Gerard,” Caedmon said.

Even as Gerard stood up to speak, Breanne was shocked to feel Caedmon’s hand in her lap, though he appeared to be listening intently to Gerard. Or pretending to listen.

“Our bargain was only for nighttime,” she hissed at him.

“You fell asleep on me last night afore dawn. You owe me an hour.”

“Lady Breanne…” Gerard was saying.

She gave the steward her attention, or as much as she could whilst Caedmon’s wicked fingers were gathering the hem of her robe up her leg in a leisurely exploration, causing her to lose focus and setting her aflame.

When she glared at him, he bestowed one of his lazy heated smiles on her, knowing full well its effect. “Loathsome lout!” she muttered.

“Winsome wench!” he countered, staring straight ahead with the innocence of a wolf at the chicken-coop fence.

Gerard was still introducing the complaint. “Thomas of Hexham has been in Lord Caedmon’s service for nigh on ten years…” Thomas, a bull-like soldier with a crooked nose that had undoubtedly been broken more than once, raised his chin high.

Breanne grabbed at Caedmon’s meandering hand, under the table, but he merely flipped it over, his covering hers. In effect, he was moving her own hand to raise the hem, which was now thigh-high. To her dismay, as her blood thickened and pulsed in her lips, her breasts, and betwixt her legs, Breanne realized that she was becoming enslaved by her passions, under Caedmon’s tutelage. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“What?” Gerard asked.

Not having intended to speak aloud, she waved a hand for him to continue.

Caedmon smothered a laugh, then took a long draw on his cup of ale, presumably to clear his throat.

“Thomas of Hexham has been wed to Maude for five years…”

His teary-eyed wife was more than thirty and a bit on the plump side, but comely.

Meanwhile Caedmon’s hand had released hers and was now entering forbidden territory. He nigh did a victory dance when he realized she wore no undergarments, then said in an undertone, still staring ahead, “Witch! You will pay.”

I am already paying, rogue.

“…but Eadgifu claims Thomas to be the father of her unborn bairn.” Eadgifu was a big-breasted, brazen hussy that Breanne had seen about the keep, flirting with one and all, as long as they had a male part. And the lackwit men had no problem swiving a very pregnant woman.

Caedmon’s fingertips brushed across her nether hair, and it took all her strength to keep from moaning and opening her legs to him. Truly, the man could make her knees sweat with a mere touch.

“Now, the question afore this court,” Gerard continued, “is whether Thomas will claim this new child? And if so, will he provide for the child and its mother, and will there be a penalty for adultery?”

“I contend this is a question for the church, not a shire court,” Caedmon said. Then, proving he could do more than one thing at a time, he managed to insert a foot behind her two, which were pressed close together, and yanked. In that second of surprise, her legs spread slightly, and he got a hand betwixt her legs. “Is that not so, m’lady?”

“Huh?” She had no idea what Caedmon was referring to as his fingers were already delving into her cleft.

“Should I hear this case, or pass it on to the church?”

“Begging your leave, m’lord,” Eadgifu said, “I be due in a few sennights. I cannot wait fer some church ta get around ta my situation.” She hefted her big stomach up for emphasis, which called attention to her big udders. In truth, the coarse woman could be the prow on a longship with all her protruding assets.

“What is it you want?” Breanne managed to ask, despite the fluttering exercise Caedmon was doing with his lewd fingertips. She blinked several times as blood drained from her head and rushed to other, more intimate parts.

“I want him ta take care of me and me babe.” Eadgifu shot a smug look at Thomas and his wife.

“He has four children of his own ta care for,” Maude protested. “I believe my Thomas is innocent, but if he has been strayin’, I will cut off his cock and give it ta yon harlot, wrapped in a riband.”

Breanne put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. I do like this woman.

Thomas crossed his legs and cast his wife a sheepish glance. “I have ne’er lain with this woman,” he contended.

“Liar!” Eadgifu shouted.

Breanne was fast losing control with the rogue drawing circles around her nubbin of pleasure. She must leave soon or humiliate herself by peaking in front of one and all. Raising a hand, she said in a rush, “Thomas and Maude, you are to remain silent whilst I ask Eadgifu a question.”

“I do love a woman who gives orders,” Caedmon remarked low enough that only she could hear.

“Shut your teeth.”

“Methinks I may just swoon.”

Eadgifu preened, figuring she was about to win her case.

“Eadgifu,” Breanne said, “Thomas has a birthmark few people are aware of. Where is it located on his body?”

At first, Eadgifu’s eyes darted right and left, trapped like a doe in a bramble bush, but then she noticed Breanne staring at Thomas’s belly.

“On his gut,” Eadgifu announced.

Thomas grinned and before he could be told to halt, he unlaced and dropped his braies to show a stomach devoid of any birthmark. Of course, he also showed them a manpart, as well.

“Oh, good Lord!” Breanne put her hands to her eyes until he raised his braies back up.

Maude began to weep with relief and told her husband, “I believed ya the whole time, dearling.”

Thomas was not convinced. “I am aggrieved, wife. Ye must prove ta me how sorry ye are.”

Breanne could pretty well guess what that involved.

“Thomas, you have proven your case, with Lady Breanne’s help,” Caedmon ruled, then gave Breanne a winning smile. “Go in peace, Thomas. And, you, Eadgifu, do not let me see you in this court again. If you know not who the father is, have the good sense to pick a man you have actually tupped with.”

“I thought I had,” Eadgifu shot back. “But then all men are the same in the dark, are they not?”

A lot of sniggering and hoots of laughter rippled through those gathered in the hall as an audience. But Breanne would not have known that. She was too busy peaking all over Caedmon’s busy fingers.

She arched her neck and closed her eyes to prevent herself from shouting out her bliss. When she opened her eyes, the lout was watching her. “You look flushed, m’lady,” he said. “Wouldst care for a cool drink?” He removed his wandering hand and reached for a cup of ale.

“Nay, I do not want a drink. You think you are so clever. Well, how do you like this?” It was her hand now in his lap, embracing his already hard phallus. She began to rub up and down.

Caedmon made a gurgling sound, deep in his throat, and shuddered.

“You look flushed, m’lord,” she said coyly. “Mayhap you need a cup of ale…” In a whisper, she added, “poured over a certain body part.”

With a laugh, she released him, stood, and began to walk away, figuring she had had the last word.

But behind her, she heard Caedmon tell those left in the great hall, including those in line to be heard. “Let us break for an hour or so. I have an important matter to settle elsewhere.”

Glancing back over her shoulder, Breanne saw Caedmon coming after her, and she knew, without a doubt, the way he wanted to settle said matter. She ran till she reached the small-accounts room and attempted to slam the door, but his booted foot was already inside.

“Well, well, well,” Caedmon said, leaning back against the closed door. “What shall we do now?”