Page 108 of Shared By the Vikings

He then slid deeper, a long, slow ride over her tongue.

His flavor spread on her palate, tangy and hot. She breathed in through her nose, relishing the hardness of his shaft on her tongue.

Still he kept going, until he was seated on the back of her tongue.

He moaned softly, then withdrew.

When he pushed in again, his fingers clamped tighter still, dragging on her hair roots until a nip of pain pulled at her scalp.

She closed her eyes, lost to the moment, lost to sensation.

This time he went so deep his hair tickled the tip of her nose. She couldn’t breathe for a moment, and had to stop herself from gagging. But then he was pulling out again, then in, then out.

He set up a steady rhythm, treating her mouth the way he would her pussy. Having sex with it.

Saltiness pricked at her taste buds. She hugged him closer with her tongue, making the ‘o’ of her lips tauter.

Again he moaned, his shaft hardened further, becoming rock solid.

She was his. There was no disputing that. His to do with as he pleased. She gave herself up to him. Relished the pleasure he was getting from doing this to her. And there was only her. He was hers and she was his.

His fingers clawed her scalp, both hands holding her hair now. He pushed in and out faster, his movements not quite as controlled as they had been. His breaths rained down on her, and still the salt leaked from him.

And then he stilled, deep in her throat. She gagged once then controlled it, and swallowed as he released his seed. It came in thick spurts, his cock pulsating with each throbbing burst of pleasure.

Her heart swelled with love. Taking this from Erik, like a sexual, fertile, passionate woman and not an untouchable princess on a pedestal, thrilled her utterly. It was what she’d been hoping for all these years.

A final burst of bliss drew a long, low groan from his chest. Then he pulled back, until just the tip of his cock sat against her lips.

She wanted to touch it, and him, but kept her hands locked in place behind her back. Instead she licked his slit, then circled her tongue around his glans, down his shaft and to his hair. She kissed the wiry dark strands, nuzzling against him.

And then suddenly she was drawn upward by his hands beneath her arms.

She locked her knees, a little dizzied by the sudden change in position.

He cupped her face. His mouth a tight flat line, his eyes ablaze.

And then he kissed her, soft and gently as though she were made of the rarest pottery.

She sighed, and fluttered her eyes closed.

The kiss lasted for long delicious moments, then he ended it, released her, and stepped back.

He turned, walked to his scythe, picked it up, and was gone.

Through the door, out of the house, out of view.

Ingrid released a breath, unlinked her fingers, and rubbed the joints of her jaw. His taste was heavy in her mouth, her heart still beat fast, and her scalp tingled.

All of that had happened and he hadn’t had to utter one instruction with words.

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