Eadyth almost shot off the floor. “Unhand me, you lecherous brute,” she hissed.
“Oh, forgive me, wife,” Eirik said, his blue eyes blinking innocently. “I thought it was the table edge I was holding.”
She glared at him, disbelieving.
“I had not thought to mention it afore, but I have a problem seeing some things up close.” He squinted at her, emphasizing the defect.
Eadyth slanted a suspicious look his way, not sure whether to believe he had grasped her backside accidentally. When she looked at Bertha, though, who was gathering the last of the pots at her side, the bawdy cook rolled her eyes and whispered in an undertone, “What did I say ’bout lustful men? First wobbling tits, then the arse.”
Eadyth stifled a giggle. A giggle! God’s Bones! The man is turning me barmy.
But Eadyth soon forgot about Eirik’s violation of her person when she saw what he was doing to her honey. First, he inserted a long finger into the pot of her best clover honey and licked the finger clean. He was about to test another pot when she slapped his hand away.
“Are you daft, man? Those are for my customers in Jorvik. Who would want to purchase them after you have stuck your dirty fingers inside?”
Eirik just grinned and pretended not to hear her, sticking a finger in the next pot, drizzling honey carelessly across the clean table on the way to her mouth, where he offered the sweet nectar to her on his fingertip. “Here, have a taste, my lady. ‘Tis always best to sample your own wares. Besides, you need sweetening up.”
“I have tasted enough for today,” she protested, backing away. But he persisted in following her, waving his honey-laden finger in front of her lips, drizzling some accidentally over her bosom. To her horror, Eirik looked as if he might lick it up, but, instead, he pressed his fingertip against, her lips.
“Try it.”
“Nay. Oh, Good Lord, at least use a spoon. Have you no manners at all?”
“Apparently not.” He was still grinning, and Eadyth’s heart slammed against her chest at his enticing closeness. He smelled of horse and sweat and wood smoke and man. Instead of being repulsed, Eadyth was drawn inexplicably by his particular scent. The man discomfited her mightily, and she did not like it one bit. And now that he had shaved his mustache, he looked younger, less hard, too enticingly handsome.
She was backed against the far wall by then and did not want to create more of a scene, so she flicked the tip of her tongue against the end of his finger. It was a big mistake.
Be careful, she admonished herself silently as every hitherto unknown erotic spot in her body came to full attention. One devilishly handsome man tricked you afore. This one could toss you aside just as Steven did.
But Eadyth could not ignore the delicious sensation of her tongue rasping against the rough skin of his forefinger. It heightened and brought to the forefront her own softer femininity. It made her feet wicked. And wonderful. She wanted to taste his skin again.
She should not.
She did.
“Umm,” she moaned. ” ‘Tis the cherry blossom honey.” Now, go away, you fiendish wretch, afore I do something foolish. Like brush the hair off your forehead. Or run my hands over your muscled chest. Or, Sweet Mother of God, give over to my baser self and reach up to taste the honey on your lips.
“Try more,” he urged in a husky voice. The finger still lingered in front of her mouth enticingly.
“Eirik, I do not—”
He rested his other hand on the wall above her head, leaning sinfully close. Brazenly, he stuck his finger in her mouth, and she had no choice but to lick and suck on it, especially when he pushed it in and out several times. For some reason she could not explain, she thought suddenly of that novel tongue kiss he had given her in his bedchamber on their wedding night. The one she had liked so shamelessly.
Soon she forgot about the honey altogether as Eirik’s moving finger created an odd reaction in other parts of Eadyth’s body. Her breasts suddenly felt fuller. Her blood seemed to thicken and lodge heavily in her arms and legs, and, oh dear, in that secret place between her legs. She wanted to put her arms about his neck and pull him even closer. Restraining herself forcefully, she drew on that small part of her self that had not turned totally wanton.