Page 62 of Shared By the Vikings

Lifting up, he smiled down at her, then withdrew.

She watched, waiting for her heart to settle as he stood, cock semi-erect and shiny. He raised his hands over his head, joined his fingers and stretched. He released a low groan. “Damn, it’s good to have sex again.”

“You enjoyed it.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “I did.” He held one out to her. “Come, let’s wash in the sea, and then we must get to that shed, see what is in there before the tide blocks the headland. It will be good to go back with not only a bird but also news of a monastery and perhaps shelter and useful tools.”

She took his hand and, leaving their clothes and the cormorant, they made their way back through the dunes to the shoreline.

Ingrid relished the sun on her naked body and the light breeze cooling her sweat.

When the cool waves lapped over her warm ankles, she squealed then laughed.

Erik laughed too, gripped her fingers tighter, and tugged her into the deeper furls of water.

She feigned a protest but kept walking with him.

When the water hit his thighs, he released her, turned and dropped backwards, going completely under.

She dived in next to him, and at once felt his arms around her.

He hauled her close and brought them both rushing to the surface.

A wave rolled around them, splashing white froth onto their chests and arms.

She held his face and kissed him, happiness filling her soul.

He returned the kiss, spun around then dunked them under again, their mouths still connected.

The tang of salt caught in her throat and when they came up again, she wriggled to be free as she spluttered.

“I’m not letting go,” he said, holding her tighter.

“I don’t like the taste,” she said.

“Of me?” He raised his eyebrows.

“No, the water.”

He grinned. “Good.” Again he set his mouth over hers.

Another wave, and then another rushed against them fizzing and foaming.

Erik’s arms were a ring of iron around her, protecting her, once more, from the broiling, bubbling ocean.

Eventually they walked from the sea, their bodies cool and hair wet.

Ingrid couldn’t remember ever feeling so satisfied and content.

“We’ll dress and go to the shed,” he said, pointing up the beach.

Ingrid nodded in the opposite direction. “Why don’t you do that and I’ll catch us another bird. There’s plenty. And I noticed sea beet and samphire, I could gather some.”

He was quiet, then, “Ja. Do that.”

Ingrid dressed, and gathered her bow and arrows.

Erik was already on his way up the beach, jogging toward the shed.

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