Free Web NovelChapter 191: Chapter 191
Even now, he still made her feel like she had all the power in the situation, despite the fact that she was unraveling just as quickly as he was, melting into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself to him.
The carriage swayed gently, a slow rocking that only heightened the sensation of the charged space that existed here, with the rest of the world shut firmly outside the carriage walls.
Circe lifted her head, her breath brushing along his collar.
They were both breathing hard when he broke the kiss, her cheeks now an adorable shade of pink that matches the color of her dress.
His gaze dropped to her throat where her pulse fluttered wildly. A dainty lace ribbon was tied delicately into a bow around her neck, like a present he wanted to unwrap.
He played with the ends of it as his lips hovered over her skin, his breaths skating over the smooth slope of her neck. Before he could think better of it, he tugged on the lace ribbon, unraveling it with a single pull.
He heard her breath hitch as his fingertips skimmed the pulse in her neck. It thudded fast and hard under his touch, gasping when he suddenly lifted her and placed her on his lap.
Her breath stuttered in her chest as the world tilted, one moment she was perched at his side, the next she was settled on his lap, the length of her dress spilling around them like a pale, blushing cloud.
His hands were firm but gentle as he guided her into place as though she were something precious, something he had wanted to hold like this for far too long.
Her knees bracketed his hips, and the warmth of him seeped through every layer of fabric she wore. It was startling, how solid he felt beneath her, how right it felt to be like this with him.
Circe’s fingers fisted instinctively in the collar of his shirt, bunching the fabric as she tried to steady herself. Ragnar let out a quiet, uneven breath that ghosted against her collarbone, and she felt it like a spark slipping under her skin.
"Is this..." she began softly, but she didn’t know how to finish the question.
"Too much?" he murmured against her throat, his lips just shy of touching her. "You only have to say the word."
Circe didn’t say a word, clasping her lips shut in case anything accidentally slipped out and ruined this perfect moment. She wanted this so much, it hurt. This and so much more.
Her silence was the permission he needed to continue.
Ragnar’s hand slid up the length of her spine slowly, the touch almost reverent, stopping only when his fingers reached the nape of her neck. Her now-untied ribbon dangled loosely between them, the ends brushing her shoulders.
He let his lips brush her skin in a barely there touch, causing her to shiver in response, her fingers tightening in his shirt.
He moved a bit higher and his mouth found the hollow beneath her ear, pressing a slow, searing kiss there.
Her chest squeezed. Every nerve in her body tightened, then softened all at once, melting into the cradle of his hands. His other arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her closer, like he couldn’t bear even a sliver of space between them.
"Ragnar..." Her voice trembled, and the sound of it, the plea wrapped inside his name, made his grip tighten. freewebnovёl.ƈom
It was now his new favorite sound, hearing her say his name like this. There was no better sound in the world.
He kissed the curve of her neck, tasting her heated skin.
"You have no idea," he said against her throat before pulling back slightly, his voice thick with restraint, "what you’re doing to me right now."
She did know, because she felt exactly the same.
Her hands slid from his shirt to the sides of his face, palms warm, thumbs grazing the rough line of his jaw. His stubble tickled her skin, sending tiny sparks dancing down her arms. She tilted his face up so he was looking at her.
"Then don’t stop," she whispered, her forehead brushing his. "Please."
A sharp sound escaped him, part groan, and part laugh. Those were words he had wished to hear her say since their first kiss and she had essentially given him everything on a silver platter. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
His hands gripped her waist, steady and possessive, and with a low growl of need he captured her mouth again. Deeper, and hungrier, drawing her in until she was all he could feel, taste and touch.
Her fingers slid into his hair, and he groaned against her swollen lips.
The carriage rocked gently, the motion only bolstering the slow, heated rhythm that tangled between their bodies.
Circe felt drunk all over again, not from the wine, but from him.
His hands roamed her waist, her ribs, sliding up the curve of her back as he kissed her. A soft, needy sound slipped from her throat, and he swallowed it greedily, deepening the kiss until her thoughts turned into liquid heat spilling through her veins.
"Circe..." he breathed against her lips, his voice wrecked as the breeches he wore became impossibly tight.
She pulled back only enough to meet his gaze, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them.
"Yes?"
He looked at her like she was precious, unable to keep his hands off her now.
He glanced at the exposed skin of her neck, marveling at the red marks that now littered the area as a result of his ministrations.
"I don’t think I can stop if we do this."
Her smile was soft.
"Good," she whispered, leaning in until her lips brushed his again, feather-light but full of intent. "Because I don’t want you to."
Ragnar’s restraint snapped like a frayed thread.
His hands slid down to cradle her hips, steadying her perfectly against him as he leaned forward and pressed a trail of heated kisses along her collarbone, her fingers trembling in his hair as he let his mouth explore her body with aching reverence.
Somewhere outside, the thunder of hooves continued down the road.
