Free Web NovelChapter 193: Chapter 193
Ragnar descended the carriage steps first, then turned and extended his hand up to her to help her down. It was a simple offer and he waited patiently for her to accept it. Circe placed her hand in his without a moment’s hesitation.
The world tilted faintly when her feet touched the ground, her knees not fully recovered from what had transpired inside the dim carriage. She had never let anyone touch her like that, never let anyone know her that intimately. Before Ragnar, her experiences had been little more than shy, forgettable kisses stolen in gardens or behind pillars at balls, sweet, but hollow compared to the fire he had coaxed from her.
This? This was something else entirely. And she felt no trace of regret. If anything, she wanted more. If given the choice, she would have repeated every moment of the last half hour without question, just to feel his hands on her again, his voice low and hoarse in her ear, the world narrowing until there was nothing but him and the ache he answered so perfectly.
Ragnar didn’t release her hand, even after she found her footing. His thumb brushed slow strokes across the back of her knuckles, as though he needed the connection as much as she did. She welcomed the lingering warmth of his palm, leaning slightly into his side as they began their walk toward the manor.
The front steps rose before them, the now lit lanternlight spilling across polished stone. Guards stepped back respectfully as the pair crossed into the foyer, its grand ceilings, marble floors, and towering columns all fading into insignificance beside the heat simmering between them.
They did not stop or speak but their joined hands was somehow enough, as they led each other through the quiet halls.
A soft shiver raced along Circe’s spine as anticipation twined with the memory of what he had done to her in the carriage. Her gaze drifted downward, unbidden, to the hand holding hers, more specifically, the fingers that had been buried inside her minutes ago. Heat rushed to her cheeks, blooming warm and bright. She could almost feel them again, curling deep, coaxing her apart.
Ragnar noticed the where her gaze was focused on and he realized where her thoughts must have gone.
A quiet chuckle vibrated through him. He tugged her closer as they walked, pressing a kiss to her temple. ƒreewebɳovel.com
"Your pretty blush might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen," he murmured near her hair. "But you don’t need to feel shy about anything that happens between us."
Circe lifted her gaze, meeting the molten warmth of his eyes.
"I’m not ashamed," she said softly. "It’s all so new. I’m not always sure how to react to it."
Then she smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. Ragnar returned the gesture, feeling his chest swelling. His thumb brushed over her skin again in a slow tender glide that sent delicious tingles down her arm.
But the moment they crossed into their chambers, the tenderness dissolved. The air thickened, charged with raw need. Ragnar closed the door behind them with decisive finality, then captured her mouth in a kiss that stole what remained of her breath.
Heat roared through her veins as he backed her against the nearest wall, his lips fierce, unrestrained. He kissed her like a man starved, like he had been holding himself together from the moment she had stepped into the carriage moments ago. She opened for him without hesitation, letting him deepen the kiss, letting his hunger pull her under. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, dragging him closer, hungry to feel more of him, to give more of herself.
She was utterly helpless to the onslaught, a willing prey caught in the grasp of a predator who worshipped and devoured in equal measure. And she reveled in every moment of it.
Her hand slid down the planes of his chest, intending to go lower—
A sharp knock struck the door.
It ripped through the haze of desire with all the subtlety of a swinging blade.
Ragnar’s breath hitched in irritation. His jaw tightened, mouth parting as though he intended to tell her to ignore the interruption entirely. But the knock came again, firmer this time, more determined.
A muscle ticked beneath his eye. The corner of his mouth tightened in obvious displeasure and the look on his face was downright murderous.
Circe bit back a laugh, charmed by the fury that flashed in his features. She rose on her toes, brushing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was nothing compared to the fervor he had shown her moments ago.
"Go," she murmured against his lips. "See to it. I’ll wait for you."
His expression eased, the tension that had coiled around his body bleeding into something warmer. He pressed a gentle kiss to her brow, a silent promise lodged in the act.
The moment he stepped out and the door clicked shut behind him, the room’s quiet swallowed her whole. The bed called to her more insistently than she expected. She toed off her shoes, crossed the room, and climbed onto the mattress without bothering to change out of her clothes. She didn’t realize how truly exhausted she was until then.
The warmth of the sheets, the lingering thrum of her overstimulated body, the scents of lavender and woodsmoke wrapped around her.
Her eyes drifted closed almost instantly.
She didn’t last a minute. Sleep claimed her the moment her head touched the pillow.
***
The atmosphere in the palace had been strained for days, so thick with unease that even breathing too loudly felt like a provocation. Royal guards and palace servants alike moved with measured steps and hushed voices, each of them acutely aware that a single misstep could ignite the queen’s volatile temper. Her wrath was a vicious, unpredictable thing, capable of cutting down whatever or whoever stood in its way.
Ever since Queen Nheera had forcefully detained two of her ladies-in-waiting, tension had rippled through the royal household like cracks in ice.
