Page 20 of Claimed By the Viking

“‘Tis only my kiss, sweetling.”

For now…

Such a coupling could not be rushed and would be for pleasure alone rather than the child she’d asked for, but he’d no doubt she would be compliant when the time came. He had nothing else to give but this. When he was gone, he hoped she’d look back on these days and feel some warmth for him.

Why she desired a child this way, rather than marrying, he could not fathom, nor why her mother supported such an idea. Nevertheless, he was content to do his part.

Signy would find a true husband at last—a man worthy of her, who would recognize the treasure he possessed and guard it well. But always, he, Viggo, would occupy some portion of her memory, and if a son or daughter were born, she would see him in the child, perhaps.

Viggo grazed his teeth across one fleshy orb, nuzzling and biting, before turning to the other, but his cock protested againstfurther delay. Gripping her hips, he aligned himself, then eased forward.

She gasped as her sheath yielded, surrounding him with liquid heat. He was stretching her slowly, making her accept him. She was hot and tight but ready, and by the third gliding stroke, she pressed back to meet him.

“That’s what I want!” He gritted his teeth to control himself. “Take more of me. Deeper!”

She tilted her pelvis, helping him do just that.

He was buried, with her plump behind pressed to his groin and his balls brushing the damp curls of her labia.

“Deep, where I belong. So deep!”

She responded with a gentle pleading, urging him to keep moving inside her.

By the gods! I won’t disappoint her.

She was so soft, so pliant, and she wanted him to fuck her.

He eased out, with Signy clenching him all the while, then gave her another of the long, satisfying strokes.

“Faster. Please! I want you.” She was breathless beneath him.

“Like this?” He did as she asked, delivering a sudden thrust.

It was almost his undoing.

He wasn’t going to last.

There would be three or four more, at most, and he wanted her to come with him, for her to crash and fall as he delivered his seed.

Desperately, he pulled her upright, so her back rested upon his chest, and fastened his hands around her—one cupping her breast while the other delved between her legs. Without difficulty, he found her bud, and she let out a cry as soon as he touched her there.

With her seated upon him, he let her take over the rhythm of their mating. Her hand covered his, adding pressure to where hestroked her, and she opened her thighs wider, exposing herself even further to his intimate caress.

“Please!” She panted, “I want you.”

Hearing her say the words pushed him over. His body roared for release. With one great thrust, he drove upward while holding her firm.

“Signy!” He pulled her into his chest as his balls tightened, hardening with a single, primitive purpose. Then he was shuddering, hot ripples burning through his abdomen.

He heard her sweet, piercing cry and felt the weight of her head thrown back. A further husky, surrendering groan ripped from inside him—from the bowels of his body, from a place hidden deep in his bones. He wrapped his arms about her fiercely, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Who was this woman to do this to him?

Hot tears seared his eyes.

CHAPTER 8

While Viggo dozed,Signy first stoked the firepit, then revisited the table to prepare the rabbit. Hanging the smaller of her cooking cauldrons, she scattered the chunks of meat inside, alongside several handfuls of vegetables, filling the vessel just over halfway with water.

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