by Sandra Hill
"Get off me, you big oaf."
Eirik rolled Eadyth onto her back but continued to press her to the ground with his body. Despite the rain, which was lessening now as sunlight peeked through the clouds, despite the fact that his lady wife looked like a drowned, muddy rat, despite his formidable anger, Eirik felt a keen pleasure in the pressure of his hard body against her womanly curves. Yes, curves, he realized, not without pleasure; his wife definitely was not the bony creature he had once imagined.
With deliberate care, he adjusted his body atop hers and ground his burgeoning manhood against her center.
She gasped and gazed up at him with questioning innocence. Rivulets of rain made tracks in the mud plastering her face, and her sodden hair escaped her wimple in ugly gray clumps.
But somehow Eirik was not repulsed.
With a deft movement of both legs, he entwined his ankles with hers and spread her legs. Then, through her thin, rain-sodden gown, he expertly touched hi miself to her center of pleasure—at least, it was a pleasure point on other women he had known. But then, mayhap his wife was different.
Eadyth's mouth parted on a soft sigh of enchantment. "Oh."
Eirik smiled. She was no different, after all. And in that he found great cause for satisfaction... and anticipation. "Oh?"
"Oh, you are a brute!" Eadyth exclaimed in her usual prickly tone of voice, trying to shove him off as she came to her senses.
"A brute, am I?" he asked. "My lady, you do not know, yet, what a brute I can be." He reached his right hand out and gathered a fistful of mud. Then, with a chuckle of glee, he smeared it onto her face. "That is for throwing dirty bath-water in my face."
She sputtered and spat, spraying his face with mud, and tried to claw at him. But he pulled both wrists above her head with one hand. Then he dished up another handful of mud and smeared it onto each of her breasts, rubbing his palm seductively over the slick surface he created. Fascinated, he watched her nipples blossom through her thin gunna.
And he grew even harder against her.
"Why are you doing this?" she moaned.
"Because I like to."
Carefully, he rotated his hips back and forth against her, experimenting, watching closely for her reaction. She did not disappoint him.
Instinctively, her legs widened and she arched up for more. Closing her eyes languorously, she parted her lips to accommodate her short, ragged breaths. Her body told him what her prideful tongue could not: she wanted him. As much as he wanted her.
"Ahem. Ahem."
Eirik groaned aloud at ' the slight coughing sound and he knew his opportunity was lost, even before he looked up and saw Britta and Bertha and several of his knights near the kitchen door.
Eadyth instantly overcame her passionate response and chastised him in a mortified voice, "Oh, you are the world's worst husband. To think of consummating our marriage afore an audience. In the mud. In daylight."
"Is that what we were doing?" he asked with amusement. "Well, I must admit this is a first for me. You must be a bad influence on me. What other deviant paths will you lead me on, wife?"
"Me? Me?" she shrieked and tried to buck him off.
He laughed and would not move.
She bit his shoulder.
"Ouch!"
He bit her shoulder.
She shrieked even louder.
Meanwhile, their audience continued to stare open-mouthed at the spectacle they made. Eirik figured it was time to move indoors before they really did consummate their wedding in public. The rain had stopped, and already bright sunlight peeped through the clouds, causing steam to rise from the damp earth. Thinking quickly, Eirik looked up and ordered, "Britta, get me some soap, a comb and several drying cloths. And some clean garments for me and my lady wife. Take them to the spring."
"What?" Eadyth croaked out.
"We are going to bathe... in the pond."
"We?"
Eirik recognized the panic in Eadyth's voice, but he did not care. She had pushed him too far. He had waited too long to bed his wife, and he would wait no longer. In truth, he could not wait any longer.
"Is this a private game, or can anyone join in?" a deep voice inquired above him.
Eirik peered over his shoulder to see Sigurd sitting astride his destrier. He had ridden the animal right into the kitchen courtyard. Eadyth would go into a rage if he trampled her precious herbs.
But then Eirik realized the significance of Sigurd's appearance, and he stood, releasing Eadyth from his body's pressure. He allowed her to rise but held onto her wrist, refusing to let her pull away.
"What did you find?" he demanded anxiously as Sigurd alighted and handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy. "Does she spy or not?"
Amazed, Sigurd glanced from him to Eadyth and back again, then looked pointedly at the still-raging arousal at the juncture of Eirik's thighs. With a laugh, Sigurd shook his head in exaggerated despair. "Methinks the waiting has been sore hard on you, my lord."
"Methinks you had best spit out the news or join us in a mud bath."
Sigurd grinned widely, prolonging the suspense. Finally, he disclosed, "She is innocent as a newborn babe."
It was Eirik then who grinned from. ear to ear. "Are you certain? Where did you check?"
"Hawks' Lair. Jorvik. Even two of Gravely's estates. Yea, I am sure. She hates the man. Those closest to her know of it. And there had been no contact betwixt them 'til he came seeking his son this past year."
"You set spies on me?" Eadyth asked incredulously, pulling out of Eirik's grasp. Her face turned stormy with rage. "How dare you? Oh, how dare you?" Winding her arm back, she swung in a wide circle and punched him in the stomach.
"Oomph!" Taken off guard, Eirik slipped and fell back into the mud, taking Eadyth with him.
She flailed and fought furiously against his restraint as they slopped about in the mud, covering themselves from head to toe once again.
"You arrogant ass!" She slapped his face and tried to crawl away.
"You willful wench!" He grabbed her ankle and pulled her forcibly back toward him.
Her body went stiff then and her face froze into a mask of hurt as she suddenly seemed to remember something painful. "You betrayed me with another woman," she accused, coming to her knees before him.
"I did?" At first, Eirik forgot what had prompted their rolling about in the mud—the ruse he had concocted with Aaron's young wife. Had he really been so lackwitted as to think he could rite his wife by pretending to be with another woman and not suffer the consequences? "Oh, that was just a charade to provoke you," he confessed unashamedly.
"Why?" she asked, her forehead furrowing with puzzlement.
"So you would not tempt me into consummating our marriage 'til..." Eirik's words trailed off as he saw the fury boiling in her luminous violet eyes. Perchance he had revealed too much too soon. Some women were quick to temper and needed to be "handled" carefully. In his anger, he had forgotten to employ tact.
"Tempt you? Tempt you?" Eadyth sputtered. Then that iron-willed chin of hers raised to the heavens and she turned the tables on him. Raising two fistfuls of mud that he had not seen her gather, she hurled them into his face. Momentarily blinded, he sat back on his haunches and released her, trying to wipe the oozing mud from his eyes. When he could finally see again, Eadyth stood before him, hands on hips, glaring at him with affront. "You truly are an arrogant bastard."
"I do not like your choice of words, wife, nor your tone." Realizing they still had an audience, Eirik barked out to all the spectators at the kitchen door, "Depart! All of you. I would be alone with my lady wife."
Britta snickered and said something about them looking like two sows in a sty. Bertha laughed lasciviously and made an odd remark about even the flattest breasts appearing to wobble when covered with mud. Sigurd and Wilfrid merely chuckled.
When they were finally alone and stood facing each other, panting for breath, Eadyth reproached him, "You set spies on me even when I gave my
word that I was true. You believed I conspired with your most hated enemy—my most hated enemy. And you planned to bed another woman just to avoid the odious prospect of my touch."
"Odious?" he choked out. "My lady, you are suffering from delusions if you cannot see that I crave your body... and your touch."
"You do?" The pleasure that flickered momentarily on her face disappeared as she realized the implications of his words. "Are you saying that you deliberately staged that scene in your bedcharnber with the Moorish woman?"
"I repeat, it was a ruse. I did not intend to couple with the maid. She is married to one of my men."
"How deceitful of you!"
He raised a brow mockingly.
Eadyth blinked to keep the tears welling in her violet eyes from overflowing.
He felt a momentary twinge of guilt. "I had to know for sure," he said defensively.
"Why could you not ask me? I would have told you the truth."
"Would you?" he asked softly.
He knew.
In that moment, Eadyth saw the light of recognition in Eirik's pale blue eyes, and she realized that he knew of her masquerade. Suddenly, she understood his odd behavior these past few days.
"How long?" she asked, backing away defensively. "How long have you known?"
He shrugged. "Long enough."
"Are you... angry with me?"
He nodded, taking one step closer to her.
She took one step backward.
"Well, I am angry with you, too."
"Oh?" He took one more step.
This time, she took two steps backward. "You spied on me."
"With good reason."
"Mayhap I had good reason for my... my innocent little harmless masquerade."
Eirik grinned at her choice of words, and Eadyth realized that he taken two more steps closer to her while she talked. She stepped backward five paces, just to give herself more distance, and he smiled at her in a predatory fashion that she did not like one bit. She felt like a helpless bird being stalked by a wise old cat.
"Mayhap you would like to enlighten me as to your motivations," he asked, rubbing his muddy upper lip thoughtfully.
"You look ridiculous standing there practically naked, covered with mud," Eadyth snapped without thinking. Actually, he looked remarkably virile and alarmingly handsome, Eadyth admitted to herself. She would never tell him that, though.
Eirik's wonderfully clear eyes sparkled mischievously. "Ah, then, 'tis only fair that we should even things up."
Eadyth's brow furrowed in puzzlement. She had said he looked ridiculous, standing naked and covered with mud. Looking down, she saw that she, too, was completely covered with mud. That only left...
Her mouth dropped open. He would not!
Eirik lunged for her.
Apparently, he would.
Throwing Eadyth over his shoulder, Eirik ignored her squeals of protest and flailing arms and legs. By the time they reached the pond, he was shaking his head at her unladylike language.
Lord, he loved a good battle, and this stubborn, domineering, stiff-backed wife of his was going to provide him with good sport. Without any hesitation, Eirik waded knee-deep into the ice-cold water of the spring-fed pond. Despite the hot sun, their baths would be coldly invigorating because of the recent rain. He smiled widely and dumped Eadyth, clothes and all, into the watery depths.
She came up sputtering, calling out every epithet she could name. "Loathsome lout! Odious oaf! Bloody bastard! Lusty Lackwit!"
Shamelessly, Eirik removed his loincloth and approached her. "Let us see just what I have bought in this marriage bargain, wife."
"Bought? Bought? You have not bought me, you wretch. If anything, I have bought you with my dowry," she shrieked, trying to walk past him to the shore with as much dignity as possible in her water-heavy garments. She had already lost her head-rail and wimple in the dunking, and the rest of her garments molded her body with enticing promise.
Eirik raised an amused brow at her feisty words, tearing his eyes from the clear outline of her breasts and hips and long legs. "Well, then, we shall both examine our purchases."
As he stepped after her into the shallow water, she glanced downward and inhaled sharply, noticing that he'd discarded his loincloth. "Have you no shame?"
"None whatsoever."
He proceeded to remove her clothing. And it was no small feat, with her kicking and scratching and swearing vengeance on him the entire time.
"Do not dare touch me... oh, you have torn my gown, you clumsy brute."
"Stop twisting so. You are as slippery as an eel. Ouch! You scratched me. You drew blood with your claws," he exclaimed incredulously and dunked her under the water.
She came up sputtering, "You bastard!" and launched herself at his chest, knocking him over, attempting to kneel on his chest. His nose burned, and he barely escaped emasculation when she tried to knee him in the groin.
"Eadyth! 'Tis time you behaved like a wife, not a fish-wife."
"Hah! 'Tis time you behaved like a chivalrous knight, not a rude troll."
"A troll!" he gasped out. "We shall see who is the troll here. I have had enough of your obstinance and unwomanly ways." Forgoing tenderness then, he roughly ripped her gown and undergarments from her body.
"Look what you have done to my shoes. Oh, you will pay for all this damage to my belongings."
Grinning at her soft leather slippers which floated by ignominiously, he yanked her stockings from her legs.
Once naked, Eadyth gave him no opportunity to view her bodily charms. Slipping out of his grasp, she dove into the water and swam away from him, giving him only a momentary glimpse of her bare buttocks and deliciously long legs.
He smiled.
Grasping the soap Britta had left on the bank, he took off after her, overtaking her in a few strokes. Grabbing hold of her hair, he pulled her back toward the shore and sat down on the bank, pushing her into a sitting position in the water between his knees. Her screams could, no doubt, be heard in Jorvik.
"Do not turn your back on me from this day forth, you heathen Viking beast, for I will pay you back tenfold."
"I quiver with fright," my lady." Quickly, before she had a chance to turn and truly render him impotent, Eirik soaped her long hair, then dunked her head under the water. Three times he repeated the procedure, ignoring her shrieks of outrage at his brutish treatment.
When he was satisfied that he had finally removed all the lard from her hair, he let Eadyth stand. Angrily, she flicked her long, wet hair over her shoulder and stormed away from him before he had a chance to truly study her body. Ah, well, he would have plenty of time for that later.
He began his own ablutions, going off to the deeper water. He washed his hair and body, diving underwater again and, again to remove all the mud. When he finally emerged from the water, Eadyth was standing on the shore, fully clothed in a belted gunna of soft lavender silk, combing her waist-length hair.
And she was beautiful.
Britta must not have brought undergarments for his lady wife, thank the gods, for the thin fabric of her gown molded her womanly curves. She was slender as he had originally thought, but not uncomely so. Once again, he berated himself for being such a dim-sighted fool.
His lips twitched with a grin of anticipation. He reached for a drying cloth and slowly, languorously blotted the moisture from his body, watching her the entire time.
And she was watching him, too. Warily.
He felt himself grow hard under her steady scrutiny.
She blushed and looked away.
"We are finally going to consummate our marriage. You know that, Eadyth, do you not?"
She hesitated, biting her bottom lip, then nodded grudgingly. "But do not think I will be standing on my head for you."
Eirik's eyes widened. "Well, mayhap, it will not be necessary now that I see you do not look quite like the back end of a mule."
Eadyth shot him a look that said clearly he was the one mo
st resembling a mule's arse. "And-do not think I am going to give you one of those five-hour candles for your lusty purposes," she added shrewishly.
"Huh?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "You know... that five-petaled lotus thing you boasted about. Oh, I know that I cannot escape the marriage bed now, but do not think you will get me to cooperate in your perversions."
Understanding began to dawn on Eirik then, and he laughed aloud. Good Lord, Eadyth believed his outrageous tale of five-hour sexual bouts, and no doubt she expected such a performance from him on this their wedding night.
"Ah... refresh my memory, Eadyth... how many times did I say the woman in that tale peaked in one evening?"
"I disremember," she said, her face flushing prettily. "Seven or eight times, methinks."
"Sev... seven or eight?" he said, amazed at his own fantastic stories. Then he thought of something else. "And how many times did I say the man peaked during that five-hour session?"
"Twelve," she said without hesitation.
Eirik made a small, choking sound deep in his throat and stepped closer. He took the comb from her hand and threw it to the ground. Then, putting his hands on her waist, which fit rather nicely into his palms, he lifted her off the ground so their bodies met—thigh to thigh, belly to belly, breast to chest.
Lowering his head, he murmured huskily against her lips, "Eadyth, I fear I will not last five minutes, let alone five hours."
"Ah, I should have known. Men ever boast of prowess they have not."
He put the tip of his tongue to the mole above her lips, then traced the edges of her finely sculpted mouth with mind-splintering pleasure. "Do you challenge me already, wife?"
"Nay, we are in agreement on that, at least. I care naught for any extended periods of love play. I would just as well get it over with and be done," she said in an unconvincingly defensive tone as she leaned her head backward, trying to escape his lips. Her movement only gave him access to her smooth neck.
"Ah, that is where you are wrong, wife. We will light your blasted five-hour candle," he said, nuzzling the warm skin, "and I promise to make your pleasure last... even if we both have to peak over and over and over 'til we get it right."
For once, Eadyth had nothing to say. But the wildly beating pulse in her neck jumped traitorously against his lips.