Page 41 of The Devil's Viking

“Nuh-uh.”

“How come?”

“Because right now, we’re going to do something more.”

He stared down at her, loving the heat in those purple eyes. “So what do you have in mind, baby?”

Without a word, holding his gaze, her hands dropped to the belt on her bathrobe. He blinked, astonished and barely breathing, then watched as she slowly untied the belt. Her small, naked breasts peeked out from the gap in the material, then her flat stomach and slim, curvy thighs appeared. She moved her hands up to her shoulders to remove the robe, but he stopped her, holding her two hands in one of his.

“Please let me,” he said, his voice so guttural, he barely recognized it. “Please.”

She dropped her arms to her sides, and he loved the trust that she showed in him. “OK.”

Slowly, gently, he stroked her throat, loving how she arched under his touch. His fingers trailed down the centre of her body, stroked the exposed skin, before finally parting the bathrobe. Delicately, he unpeeled her, unwrapped her, like she was a delectable gift. One that he was going to thoroughly enjoy. The robe fell to the floor.

Iris gasped when cool air hit her nipples, hit her clit, and his whole body went into overdrive at the sound.

“Oh, God, baby.” He lowered his head to her breast, flicked her nipple with his tongue, and she arched again, mutely begging for more. He obliged her by kissing his way over to her second breast, blowing on the pink nub, then sucking on it. “Sobeautiful.”

“Ah,” she said softly as he nipped between her breasts, licked the tiny red mark that he’d left there. “Viking…”

“Hmmm?”

“Kiss me.”

He moved up her body, took her mouth slowly, languidly. His tongue skimmed the curves of her lips, and when she opened to him, he delved into her sweetness, tasting her. Luxuriating in her, just richly and unaplogeticallyenjoyingher.

When his hand moved down her body again, Iris moaned into his mouth. He smiled, loving how responsive she was to him. It was innocent, somehow, and spontaneous, but also knowing, needy. Irisneededwhat he was doing to her, what he was giving her, and he swore right there and then to give it until she collapsed into his arms.

When he skimmed her stomach, she trembled; when he slid lower, barely touching her tender folds, she cried out. Right away, Viking moved his free hand into her dark, tumbled hair, dragged her eyes to meet his.

“You good, baby?” he asked, almost harshly. “You with me?”

“Yes,” she panted, seconds away from begging him to just fuckingtouchher, already. “Oh, God.Yes.”

He smiled again, and this was a smile that she hadn’t seen on that gorgeous face before. She’d seen him playful and sweet, she’d seen him sexy and intense. Butthissmile? Dear sweet God, it was –hungry. Hungry for her.

His kiss this time was rough, demanding, uncompromising, and she just let it sweep her away. She didn’t want to fight anything that was happening here,definitelydidn’t want to stop what was happening. She wanted him. She wanted anything and everything he’d give her.

Viking paused, a part of him still thinking about the tattoo, remembering what she’d said about shame and disgust, about wanting to choose.

“Baby,” he said, his voice barely above a raspy whisper. “Eyes up here again.”

Right away, she gave him that brilliant gaze, and he stroked her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin.

“Listen to me,” he said gently. “All I want to do is make you feel good, any way that you’ll let me. But before I do that, I need to know that you’re here with me, here and now. That you want what I’m offering you.”

Iris smiled, reached up and dragged his mouth down to hers. She kissed him, heard him groan against her mouth, felt his cock harden against her stomach. She was thrilled to find that she wasn’t scared of his arousal, she didn’t want to shrink away from it. She wanted to be closer – as close as she possibly could be.

“I want you,” she said simply. “I want us tobothfeel good.”

His eyes burst into flame, and she sucked in a breath, knowing that there was no turning back now. And to hell withwantingto turn back. She’d follow this man anywhere that he wanted to take her; she’d take his hand and just follow in a heartbeat.

Taking his time, watching her face, Viking lowered her to the bed, slowly pushed her down on her back. He stretched her out, arranged her so that his eyes could feast on her and worship her elegant lines: the sweet curve of her wrists, her pert breasts and delicate feet.

“Iris?”

“Hmmmm?”

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