Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 02] by The Outlaw Viking

years.”
    “’Tis true? I can hardly credit it, but then the bed sport does repulse some women. Somehow, though, methought you more hot-blooded than that. Mayhap you did not have a man with the right skills.”
    “Oh, please, spare me the male ego. I’m not repulsed by sex, and I can reach an orgasm as well as any woman. After all, there are fifty-seven erotic points on a woman’s body. If a man can’t find one of them, he needs a flashlight and a sex manual.”
    Holy Cow! Had she really said all those things? This dream trip of hers must have loosened the hinge on her tongue—or her mind. She hoped Selik appreciated her efforts to take his mind off more serious concerns.
    Selik choked with laughter. “Only fifty-seven?” he asked dryly. “And do men have as many, or more?”
    Rain knew he mocked her. Well, she’d show him. She gave her best Sex Education 101 clinical lecture straight out of medical school. When she finished, Selik’s chest shook with laughter.
    “Really! What’s so funny?”
    “You. You know all these details about the mating betwixt a man and woman. Like a bloody book you are, not a woman. Nay, you have ne’er felt as a real woman in a man’s arms, I wager. ’Tis certain you do not even know what you want from a man.”
    “Hah! I’ll tell you one thing, Mr. Know-It-All. The best sex I ever had didn’t involve…didn’t involve…well, penetration.” Realizing the corner she was painting herself into with her loose tongue, Rain practically whispered the last word.
    But he heard.
    At his muffled chuckle, she added with false bravado, “Was that explicit enough for you?”
    “Methinks you deliberately try to shock me. You do not mean the outrageous things you say.”
    “Yes, I do. I mean, no, I don’t.”
    “Do you back down now, wench?”
    “No! And don’t think I don’t know you’re just goading me into saying stupid things.”
    “Do you say that I cause you to speak your falsehoods?”
    Rain bristled. “What falsehoods?”
    “The things you said about…penetration.”
    “Oh,” Rain squeaked out. Then she yawned hugely with exaggerated loudness. “I’m tired of this conversation. I think I’ll go to sleep.”
    “’Tis what women do all the time.”
    “What?”
    “Run. Hide. Try to mask their lies when caught in their own traps.”
    “Really, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. I spoke the truth. Many women will tell you that the best sex they ever had was when they were teenagers and would neck for hours and hours with their boyfriends.”
    “Neck?”
    Rain exhaled with self-disgust at the hole she’d dug so cleverly for herself. “Necking is just kissing, but every way possible—innocently, deeply, wetly, tongues—you know, the whole works. As compared to petting, which involves touching, usually with the clothes on, but never any actual sexual intercourse.”
    “Tongues?” Selik choked out.
    “Yes, French kissing.”
    “French? Hah! Do those bloody Franks dare lay claim to inventing the deep kiss? Norsemen were tongue-kissing long afore them.”
    Rain smiled to herself at the conceit of men, of all nationalities, no matter the time in history.
    Then Selik snorted distastefully. “And this kissing for hours is more satisfying to you than the mating?”
    “It can be. Oh, in an ideal situation, sex would be the end result. But, as I said, ask any woman—would she rather be seduced with hours and hours of kisses, or engage in a session of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am?”
    Selik said nothing, and Rain realized she’d been rambling. She’d probably bored him to death. Or shocked him speechless.
    “Are you asleep?”
    He remained silent for a long time before answering in a soft voice, “Nay.”
    “What are you doing?”
    He laughed throatily. “Relieving myself.”
    Rain gasped at his vulgarity and turned to chastise him when she saw through the dim torchlight that he lay on his back with his arms folded behind his head. His lips twitched with