Viking Ecstasy (13 page)

If there had been any doubts in Tanaka's mind of her desire, Tabor's words removed them as seductively as if he'd removed her clothes. She slipped her hand once again beneath the blanket, her fingers sliding over the crisp hair that sprouted above his manhood before curling around his staff once more. He had lost some of his rigidity; but when she grasped him, he recovered instantly, burgeoning to full, awesome size.

"Some — sometimes when I look at you, your strength frightens me," Tanaka whispered, working her hand slowly over him. Tabor's right arm was circled loosely around her hips, and she almost asked him to touch her. She remembered the quiet pleasure she'd taken when she had washed Tabor while he was in the black sleep. "You're the strongest man I've ever seen."
And the most handsome and virile,
she thought, but did not say. "Close your eyes now. Lie back."

If she believed Tabor could remain idle and calm while she remained naked and near, she understood nothing at all of his passionate nature. He ran his fingertips up her spine. Then, slowly, his hand slipped around her body to brush softly against her breast, then he hooked his hand around the back of her neck.

"Kiss me," Tabor whispered hoarsely, pulling Tanaka down to his waiting mouth, hungry for the taste of her lips.

The sigh that Tanaka heard this time was her own. She allowed Tabor to pull her down, and when her mouth covered his, her lips were parted to invite the exploration of his tongue. She melted into him, adoring every inch of him that was in contact with her, trembling as their tongues danced erotically, darting from mouth to mouth. Throughout the kiss, she continued to use her hand on him, squeezing and fondling him with a boldness and confidence she'd never before known.

When Tabor took his hand from behind her neck to reach around her waist again, Tanaka sighed disconsolately through a kiss. She did so love the way his fingers caressed her hair. But then, even as she was considering asking Tabor not to stop, his large hand cupped her buttocks, the tips of his fingers slipping inward to press temptingly close to the core of her heated sensations.

Remaining on his back, Tabor pulled Tanaka higher, breaking the kiss that had fused them together. At first she protested, wanting to continue feasting on his mouth, but he forced her higher and her breasts slid across the surface of his chest. He grinned up at her, continuing to force her higher until awareness at last dawned upon her.

"You must remain still," Tanaka. whispered.

"Then you must feed me," Tabor replied, his tone husky with suppressed passion, his fingers caressing the taut half moon of Tanaka's behind, dangerously near the moist petals that ached for attention.

"I will," Tanaka replied. "I will give you all the sustenance you need."

The bold words were matched by even bolder actions. Tanaka turned slightly so that the taut, passion-darkened crest of her left breast was above Tabor's mouth. She never lost hold of his manhood, continuing to manipulate him in ways she could tell he found pleasurable.

When Tabor captured her nipple between his lips and put his tongue in motion, Tanaka tossed her head back, sending her hair flying around her shoulders to stream down her back in long, curly waves of ebony black. She uttered a low, throaty moan of delight when Tabor's teeth nipped at the sensitive breast. The sensation of his sharp teeth was quickly followed by the raspy moist warmth of his tongue.

Moving her shoulders slightly, Tanaka positioned herself so her other nipple was now directly over the Viking's mouth. As the heat of passion seared her veins, Tanaka had the fleeting realization that what she was doing was wrong. She had no choice but to capitulate to Tabor's carnal commands, she rationalized. . . . but she didn't have to enjoy them as much as she did. And she certainly didn't need to volunteer to do anything!

But how could something so wrong feel so exquisite?

Don't think,
Tanaka admonished herself. Though she had little experience in such matters, she already realized that thinking too much inhibited the pleasure of the moment. She trembled as she rocked to and fro, feeding the tips of her breasts to Tabor's tempting mouth.

For Tabor, to feel her small hand working him as he tasted the sweetness of her flesh was the most erotic experience of his life. Not even the throbbing pain from his injured biceps could dampen the excitement that charged through him. He ran his hand up and down over the back of her thigh, touching her from knee to buttocks, letting his fingers play along her velvety flesh.

The sensory delight he experienced while touching Tanaka was a powerful elixir that made him feel as though he had drunk much strong wine. He squeezed her firm buttocks, and, when he reached deeper into the cleft to touch her even more intimately, she issued a cry of surprise.

So wrong! So terribly wrong!
an annoying little voice in her mind whispered when Tabor's hand reached the juncture of her thighs.

Tanaka dismissed the voice. She cast the troubling questions and doubts aside because they prevented her from enjoying all the wonderful sensations that Tabor was so capable of making her feel. Deep within herself, in the buried core of her soul, she was hungry for the delights of the flesh that Tabor had taught her were possible. Down low, the rosy petals of her femininity felt wet, tingly, neglected. When Tabor touched her there, then probed cautiously, his finger slipped in easily.

"Ah-h-h!" Tanaka gasped, her head hanging down as she leaned over Tabor. She quivered from head to toe as he suckled upon her breasts and tantalized her with his fingers.

Tanaka was unaware that she had released Tabor's staff. She was unable to concentrate on anything but her own body and the extraordinary joy that she was feeling. Tabor's fingers probed and prodded, arousing the sensitive nub while his lips, teeth, and tongue drew pleasure from her nipples. It was only in a vague corner of her mind that Tanaka was able to realize that she was leaning over Tabor, her hands over the left side of him, her trembling behind on the other.

I was supposed to give him pleasure,
she thought guiltily as the tension within her built upon itself, fire feeding upon fire.

She felt it beginning, and this time she knew what was happening and she was not scared. It was that strange release of tension, of passion, that had gripped her body before, when Tabor had taken her into his arms and bed back at Hedeby. Sensations swirled in a vortex, like a hurricane that circles tighter and tighter, engulfing everything in its path.

And then, as she felt the culmination of all sensation fast approaching, Tabor pushed her away. She blinked her eyes, at first having a difficult time comprehending exactly what he had done. She blinked, her body fevered with a passionate insanity that required Tabor if she was ever to be free of it.

"I must have you," Tabor said hoarsely, the strain of desire showing clearly on his handsome face. "Now!"

Tanaka's hunger for Tabor was as great as his for her. She straddled his lean hips, raising up so that she could guide him into her. The heights of her passion were such that she did not even care if he was so large that she could not accommodate him comfortably. She needed to feel him inside her, the joining of their bodies. The communion of their souls.

She lowered herself upon him, opening to him, surprised that all she felt was pleasure —a sweet, blissful satisfaction of extraordinary scope.

Oblivious of other crew members aboard the boat, Tanaka called out her lover's name again and again as she rode him from one culmination to another. He lanced upward, filling her with his power, his strength, and his essence. And when at last she heard his leonine roar as he drove into her higher and deeper than ever before, an overpowering sense of oneness engulfed Tanaka. She slumped down upon him, her breasts pressing against his heaving, perspiring chest. She kissed his cheek and shoulder, but not his mouth as together they gasped to recover their strength.

"Tabor . . . Tabor . . . Tabor," Tanaka whispered, her body tingling.

She kept him inside herself for as long as she could before rolling beside him onto her back. When she was empty of him, she felt hollow inside, and she snuggled close to Tabor, pleased when his strong right arm curled around her shoulders.

"I never . . . dreamed ... it could be like that," Tanaka whispered.

She was hungry for the sound of her own name on Tabor's lips. Had she pleased him? the nagging voice inside her head suddenly asked. When she looked at Tabor, she saw that he had fallen asleep, his reserves of strength sapped from their shared passion.

S
omewhere in the night, Tanaka found the sweet solace of sleep. But before she was finally able to rest, a hundred questions rattled endlessly in her skull.

Why had she made love to Tabor? He was her captor; she, his captive. She could not — should not — feel anything for him but scorn and revulsion. No high priestess would ever feel anything but unmitigated hatred for a barbarian who had forced her into his bed.

Only Tabor hadn't forced Tanaka. He hadn't forced her to do anything. Nothing had prevented Tanaka from resisting Tabor except her own desire.

As he slept beside her, Tanaka studied his face, amazed. He had taught her the outer limits of passion and the glorious turmoil beyond.

She fell asleep at last, curled beneath the blankets at Tabor's side, for once not caring to know how far away the pursuing ships were. With Tabor's powerful arm as a pillow for her head, Tanaka drifted into sleep, a faint smile at her lips.

Just past dawn, Tabor groaned, blinked, and awoke. Tanaka was instantly awake, hearing and feeling her patient and lover reviving.

"Are you all right?" she asked, pulling her knees beneath her, remaining in the makeshift bed.

Tabor's libidinous grin told her he was better than all right, and when his gaze went from her face down to her bare breasts, she saw that his strength had returned.

"Ill bet you're hungry. Let me put my clothes on and I'll get you something." Tanaka reached for her dress.

"Nay," he said, his whisper graveled with emotion. "I am hungry . . . but not for food."

Tanaka gave him a look. "You've been wounded, and you feel strong now. But it would be best if you lay quietly where you are."

"Nay, I don't think that at all. A Viking knows what makes him strong." Tabor placed his palm against Tanaka's cheek. He stared at her lips, remembering the pleasure they'd known. "You make me strong. And right now, what I need is you."

Tanaka had valid reasons to refuse Tabor. She saw their lovemaking as an aberration, a mistake in judgment, an error caused by fear and confusion — anything other than the most breathtaking experience of her life. But looking deep into the fathomless depths of Tabor's blue eyes as he pulled her nearer, could think of nothing but how delicious it would be to taste his lips against her own just one more time.

She moaned softly when their lips met. And it was Tanaka who first explored the outline of Tabor's mouth with the tip of her pink tongue, then probed deeper, emboldened by Tabor's throaty sigh of acceptance and approval.

She kissed him long and hard, sliding down to press the full length of her body against Tabor's, never letting her mouth leave his as she repositioned herself. When at last she felt the comforting heat of his body seeping into her own, Tanaka raised her head to look into his eyes.

"Can you?" she asked in a whisper, too embarrassed to be more specific. "So soon after? . . ."

Tabor took a lock of her ebony hair and twirled it around his thick forefinger. With someone else he would have boasted and disarmed. But with Tanaka, he felt no need for braggadocio.

"Aye," he said at last. "I have been bruised, battered, bloodied, and beaten, but I can still give you pleasure and still receive pleasure from you." He brushed the silky lock of hair he'd twirled around his finger against his lips. "I have been made a weakling by Ingmar's arrow, I fear, but my strength will soon return. Then I will give you the loving you deserve."

Though he spoke from his heart, Tanaka did not entirely believe the Viking. He had been injured, it was true, but he was no weakling. And though she knew now that it was possible to feel pleasure from a man's touch, she could not imagine how Tabor could pleasure her more than he already had.

"Yes . . . yes," she crooned, not wanting Tabor to make promises he could not keep, kissing him to quell his words.

She moved with greater surety this time, pressing her weight upon Tabor. This time instead of the blinding, all encompassing sensations of before, she was able to separate the feelings, savoring them.

Could there be anything sweeter in all the world, Tanaka wondered, than the feel of bare breasts against a strong Viking chest? The aroma of their recent passion permeated the blankets, a silent — and erotic — reminder of what they had shared.

She feasted on his mouth, catching his lower lip between her even white teeth. Her fingers played lightly with his nipples, and she was surprised to find that his, like her own, had become erect.

His right arm was around her waist, his injured arm motionless at his side. He did not caress her, but she did not mind. Without the sensory overload it was easier to think.

Tanaka kissed his cheek, then his ear, then his throat, wriggling to press her breasts against him. Raising her knee, sliding her thigh against his, she moved her leg until she felt his hardness burning against the flesh of her inner thigh. That he was already aroused appealed to Tanaka's vanity, though she never would have admitted it. "You're so much bigger," she whispered as she kissed Tabor's shoulder, marveling at the breadth of his chest and how her body responded to him when she could caress him at her leisure. But the moment the words were out of her mouth, Tabor stiffened, and Tanaka knew that what she'd said could have many different meanings.

In a burst of jealous anger, Tabor clenched his teeth, then forced himself to relax and enjoy the pleasure that this high priestess —if her allegation were true —was willingly providing.

Tabor told himself that it was none of his concern that she had been Ingmar the Savage's captive before he'd received her as a gift. But the thought of her magnificent, golden body being defied by the loathsome Ingmar the Savage —

"Have I displeased you?" Tanaka asked, cutting into Tabor's troubling thoughts, sensing his sudden change of temperament. "Tell me what I have done, and I will never do it again."

Tabor looked into her eyes, so close to his own, feeling the softness of the heavy hair that spread across his naked chest. She waited for his response, and Tabor—seeing the insecurity of the future — knew he would be a fool to question whatever passion Tanaka was willing to share with him.

"Don't talk," Tabor whispered, passion resumed, his eyes smoldering like heated chips of blue diamonds. "Just kiss me."

Her passion mingled with concern for Tabor's health. Twice he tried to take her into his arms; and both times, she was able to see his pain. To keep him down, Tanaka tossed a leg over him, straddling his hulk as she had during their frantic lovemaking under the stars.

"There," she said, sitting lightly upon him. His arousal heat burned against the small of her back, branding her as his. "Now you've got to stop moving or your arm will start bleeding again, and if that happens, then we'll have to stop all — " she smiled devilishly " — activity. I'll have no choice but to get Sven to help me put a fresh bandage on your arm."

As she spoke, she moved her hips subtlely, almost imperceptibly, but the contact of her delicately rounded buttocks against his lower abdomen, of velvet-smooth skin gliding against passion-enflamed manhood, was not lost on either of them.

"Of course, as soon as your men find out how well you've recovered," she continued, "they'll all want to, see you, speak with you. . . . and, well, that would mean that you and I would simply have no time for privacy ... or the things that men and women do when they have privacy."

As she spoke, teasing Tabor with every word, he marvelled at the feminine perfection of this woman, aware that she had changed for him the meaning of "attractive." Her smile was devastating, to begin with. But instead of the small nose of a Scandinavian woman, hers was long and narrow; and though Tabor had previously thought of such noses as unattractively big, he saw Tanaka's as aristocratic, regal, befitting a high priestess. Instead of golden blonde hair that grew in perfectly straight strands ideally suited to braiding, her hair was so dark it appeared blue-black, shimmering in the early morning sunlight. It fell down the front of her body in thick, satiny waves that nearly reached her navel.

"Thor himself would defy the gods to be with you," Tabor said in a low voice, brushing aside Tanaka's hair to view her round breasts. The areolas were small and dark brown rather than large and pink, and this, too, made her different from the women he had known. Visually stimulated, he felt himself growing.

Tanaka, unschooled in Viking tradition, could not know the full importance of what Tabor had said, but she sensed that he had praised her and that such flattering words did not pass glibly from his lips.

"You can touch me," she said, taking Tabor's right hand and placing it over her breast. His eyes, she noted, glinted with passion like the turquoise stone that her people prized.

She guided him into herself again, as hungry for the sensation of being filled by him as he was to possess her. He set the rhythm, raising and lowering Tanaka until she understood what he wanted. At first she felt strong in her desire and her ability to arouse Tabor, but as passion increased, logic failed her. And when Tabor's hand clamped over her mouth while she writhed in white-hot passion it took a while for her to realize that he was only trying to quiet the screams of her ecstasy.