Viggo couldn’t help imagining how she’d look without her clothes. Small breasts and a nimble waist? Once she mounted him, he’d soon find out.
As to being dark or fair, he hoped the latter, with limbs slender and pale and a light dusting of fur betwixt the thighs. Not that he cared either way. He’dswivea wench regardless of her shape or the comeliness of her face.
Such things matter even less now.I might picture her as beauteous as Freyja herself.
There was a grim humor to it. He might couple with a crone and pump as enthusiastically, as long as he kept his hands from roaming too far.
“Are you ready?” He reached for her, dismayed to grasp nothing but air.
How can anyone be expected to live like this?
‘Twas beyond what any man should bear—this powerlessness! Nevertheless, Viggo steadied himself. He’d pretend ‘twas the midst of night to feel the disadvantage less.
“I’m here.” She caught his searching hand, guiding him to touch her.
He found the outline of her hip, tracing the indentation of her waist with his fingertips. Skimming upward, he sought her breast, finding it small and firm as a peach. He didn’t need his sight to locate the bud of her nipple.
Hearing her gasp, his staff swelled. Blind he might be, but he knew how to ready a woman for the act.
“Closer.” He’d harbored no expectation, but the stirring in his groin could not be denied. His desire was genuine. He needed the heat of her flesh.
She obeyed his command, her knee grazing his, and he opened his legs wide, drawing her between them. He encircled her, pulling her soft body into the cradle of his arms, the better to nuzzle her breasts.
A half-protest left her lips, and she pushed against him, but there was no force in her resistance. As she twisted away, her thigh brushed the heaviness of his balls and the underside of his cock. A moan escaped him, more animal than human, bringing with it the need to mate, to lift her upon his lap and pierce her through.
He brought his hands round to claim her buttocks and grunted his approval as he encountered two soft, plump handfuls. With one deft movement, he raised her up, closing his legs so hers were obliged to part around him.
How the temptress struggled! Once her weight was supported, however, he sensed her relax. With her hands upon his shoulders, she leaned close, her breath warm upon his cheek.
In his mind’s eye, he saw her there, straddling him enticingly, stretched open where he wanted to penetrate. An ache deep within told him not to wait.
“Take me inside you.” He fought to keep his voice even. “Now, woman!” He needed her to guide him since his hands were occupied.
Slowly, her fingers trailed downward. ‘Twas torture, feeling her stir lightly through the hair of his chest, brushing the tip of his nipple, before skirting the planes of his abdomen, taking her time, when all he wanted was to…
“Aaah!” He gave a gasp as she traveled lower.
At last, she had his girth in hand!
The span of her fingers did not quite encompass him, but her grip was firm. She gave a squeeze that had him draw a sharp intake of breath.
Tentatively, she stroked back and forth in a rhythm more distracting than desirable. Nevertheless, some part of him was moved. He didn’t need his sight to know he was hard as iron. She must see it, yet she attempted to frig him, to enhance his pleasure.
“Enough! I’m ready.” His voice held a rasping edge. “Steer me into your cunny and be done with it!”
She stiffened, suddenly unmoving.
Damn it! What does she want? Lover’s words?
She wishes me to breed with her, naught else.
My cock hardens at her provocation because I’m a man responding to a female’s caress. It means nothing more.
Itcanmean nothing more.
“Here, I’ll do it!” Easing one hand from where he held her, he brought it to his phallus, maneuvering toward her sheath.
She wobbled upon his lap, and the movement brought the brush of silken curls to the head of his cock, then the touch ofher parted labia. She was wet, even though he’d not touched her there.