And this coupling thing, Eadyth thought with chagrin, having thought about little else all day. Why was it a man’s choice to make love or not make love? Why must men be the ones to initiate the loveplay and the women docilely await their whims? Those pleasures Eirik had made her feel that day… well, men, no doubt, kept this a secret from their wives so they would not demand more from them. It was one further way in which men controlled women, Eadyth decided.
But what if… hmmm.
Nay, I could not.
Well, why not?
He might awaken.
I could be very careful.
So Eadyth, ever the managing person, took matters into her own hands.
Chapter Fifteen
With supreme care, Eadyth edged closer to Eirik, who slept on his back, one arm thrown over his head. Through the light of the burning candles, Eadyth watched, fascinated, as he breathed deeply through parted lips. Even his breathing was enticing, sexual, Eadyth acknowledged with a rueful shake of her head.
Leaning her head on one elbow, Eadyth studied her husband’s face. Fine laugh lines crinkled the edges of his eyes and the corners of his firm lips. She liked them. Yea, she did. The wrinkles added character to his face.
Now that she had become accustomed to Eirik’s lack of a mustache, she decided she liked that, too. Some men looked better with a mustache because it hid thin, weak lips. Eirik’s lips were full and sensuous, definitely not weak. Could she touch them without awakening him? Well, mayhap, very lightly. With the tip of her forefinger, she traced the sculpted edges and wished, very much, that she could press her lips against his. Not because she wanted to kiss the brute, she told herself, just to satisfy her curiosity about their firmness.
With reluctant admiration, Eadyth assessed the rest of Eirik’s body, from his lightly furred chest to his big, narrow feet. With all its myriad scars, it was a soldier’s body, finely honed with thick muscles and manly curves. Very nice. But then the loathsome lout no doubt knew that too well. ‘Twas why he had such wordfame with women, she supposed. That and his talent for the “peaking” thing.
Just examining her husband’s body had turned Eadyth’s blood thick and her limbs heavy and aching. She looked down at her breasts, then over to Eirik’s flat male nipples. How different they were, and yet the same. Tentatively, Eadyth touched a fingertip to one of his nipples. One touch was not enough. Checking to make sure he was still asleep, she leaned forward and enclosed one of the hard buds with the wetness of her lips. Then she stabbed it lightly with the tip of her tongue. She pulled away immediately when she thought she heard him groan. But, checking quickly, she saw that he slept evenly, though his parted lips had closed, and he now breathed evenly through his nose.
Carefully, Eadyth sat up, then knelt on her haunches. There was a part of Eirik’s body she wanted to look at a bit more closely. Making sure he had not awakened, she leaned forward and looked at “it” curiously. Nestled over his male sacs, the limp man-thing certainly looked different than it did when standing at attention.
She touched it with her fingertips and immediately drew her hand back, as if burned. She almost giggled aloud. It felt so soft and squishy, like a giant worm.
Getting more daring, she reached forward and this time wrapped her fingers gently around it. Oh, the skin is loose… and movable. How odd!
Then “it” started to grow under her fingers. Eadyth gasped and released “it” carefully. Slanting a look sideways, she saw that Eirik continued to sleep soundly. He must have drunk a great amount of her mead at dinner. Then she turned her attention back down and saw that his man part continued to grow, thicker and longer. Now the skin tightened like smooth marble and glistened. ‘Twas like magic.
Well, not magic, really. Eadyth had lived in a household of rough men for too many years not to have heard of “morning lust” or “piss hard” male parts. Apparently, “it” grew for many reasons, not necessarily just for mating.