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Rescued By The Viking
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Bereft of his grip, Gisela staggered back on useless legs, knocking back against the cottage wall. A flake of loose plaster dislodged itself, scattering small white pieces across her dress. Dazed, she brought her hand to her quivering mouth, almost in wonderment. Her fingers trembled, shaking with reaction. Why was she not shouting at him, berating him for what he had done? Slapping him across the face? Instead she sank back, knees barely supporting her, belly wound tight in a coil of longing, a craving for...what?
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