Free Viking Passion by Flora Speer Page A

her upper arms,
pulling her to her feet. There was an angry expression on his face,
but as Lenora bravely met his eyes, challenging him for possession
of the book, she saw a softening of his habitual sternness toward
her. Suddenly she was held tightly against him, only the book
separating them. One of his hands left her arm and caught the hair
at the back of her head, pushing her face against his. For one
breathless moment they stared at each other, and then his mouth
ground upon hers as his other arm slid around her shoulders,
crushing her.
    She was briefly aware of firm-sinewed thighs
against her legs, and of one corner of the book she still held
cutting painfully into her right breast, before she was swept into
a sea of sudden desire. She had lost control of her own body. She
felt herself pressing ever more closely against him, heard a low
moan escaping from her own throat as her mouth opened and his
tongue entered her, seeking, searching out the most sensitive
places, lighting fires deep within her that excited and terrified
her at the same time.
    The kiss deepened, becoming almost violent
before he tore his mouth from hers to rain scalding-hot kisses on
her cheeks and her eyelids, finally returning to her lips, his
tongue thrusting fiercely into her. She welcomed his assault,
adding to the fire with her own response.
    While one hand tangled into her hair, holding
her head immobilized, his other hand and arm plastered her body to
his in an unbreakable vise that grew ever tighter. Once more he
left her lips, this time to set her throat aflame with his kisses.
When his mouth met hers again, her surrender was complete. She
leaned into him and gave freely of her own desire.
    Held against him as she was, she could have
no doubts about his arousal. She could feel his manhood pressing
against her thigh, hot and strong. The touch added fuel to the fire
raging in her brain and her bosom and further inflamed the strange,
urgent ache deep within her. Not consciously aware of what she was
doing, acting on instinct alone, she moved her hips, crying out
softly as he pushed himself at her. Freeing one arm, she slipped it
around his waist and up under his jerkin, feeling the smooth, warm
skin of his back.
    He recoiled from her touch. He let her go so
suddenly she swayed and nearly fell until he caught her by the
upper arms once more and flung her onto the bed platform. She lay
there, skirts flaring up about her knees, her head against the
wall, still clutching the book, waiting for his next move with
mingled fear and anticipation.
    “Give me that.” His voice was drenched in
barely controlled fury as he stretched out his hand for the
book.
    “No,” she whispered. “Oh, Erik, please.”
    She was not certain whether she was begging
him not to take the book from her or for him to take her. She lay
watching him, her lips parted, her breasts still heaving with the
unexpected emotions he had aroused in her.
    One long hand reached out to her slowly, as
though fighting some invisible force that held it back. Slender
fingers traced her cheek and skimmed along the curve of her mouth.
One finger slid between her parted lips and rested there before
probing deeper, until it met her moist, warm tongue. It lingered a
moment, testing, while his green eyes watched her and his tense
body bent ever nearer.
    Suddenly Erik snatched his hand away as
though it had been burned in a fire. He grabbed the book from her
nerveless fingers and turned his back on her.
    “Get up,” he said, “and go about your
work.”
    When she made no response, he turned on her.
“You were Snorri’s once,” he said. “I do not want you. As a slave
you are worthless. You lie about all day. If you do not work I will
sell you.”
    His cold words stifled all the warm passion
that had been building in her.
    “I was not lying about until you threw me
here,” Lenora replied, stung by the injustice of his complaint. “I
was working. I was putting your shirts away.”
    “You