Free Web NovelChapter 197: Chapter 197
The first thing Circe felt when she woke was the presence of someone else on the bed with her, the warmth of their body enveloping her, impossible to ignore. It wrapped around her back, her waist, her ribs, as though the bed itself had grown arms in the night.
She opened her eyes to pale morning light slipping through the gap in the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. The heavy arm that was draped over felt more real with her now wide awake and less like a fragment of her imagination.
Circe knew it was him without turning to look. The sheets even smelled like him now.
She turned slowly in his hold to get a better look at him. The light caught on the sharp lines of his face, the slope of his shoulder, and the shadow of dark stubble along his jaw. He lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other now curved possessively around her.
She would have thought he was still asleep if he didn’t immediately pull her closer so her body was half-draped over his, cheek pressed to his chest, one of her legs hooked over his thigh as if he had decided that the distance between them was simply unacceptable.
She felt his chest rumble with a contented sigh.
Her heart was beating faster now. She had never woken beside a man before. Certainly not like this, skin to skin beneath the same blanket, his bare chest rising against her cheek, the thin linen of her shift the only thing between them.
She should move. She knew she should. But the quiet rhythm of his breathing held her still. It was soft, like he had fallen back asleep now that she was thoroughly pressed against him. She watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, and the faint flutter of a vein at his throat, the way his dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
Her mind was unable to move past how handsome he was and he looked just as enticing when he was asleep, the usual sharp edges softened, almost gentle.
Her body still hummed with the memory of what they did in his carriage. Handsome, strong and capable of bringing her to the height of pleasure with just his fingers.
She shook her head as she tried her best to dispell the salacious thoughts. Lately, her emotions had become a tangled mess whenever he was near, leaving her uncertain of what she truly felt. He unsettled her in ways she couldn’t fully grasp, and this pull she felt toward him only deepened her confusion.
A small sound escaped her, and his lashes lifted. Molten brown eyes, still heavy with sleep, found hers instantly. For a heartbeat neither of them moved. Then the corner of his mouth curved up lazily.
"Good morning," he murmured, voice rough, husky from sleep.
Circe felt heat flood her face and lower to treacherous places.
"You’re on the bed," she whispered, not quite sure what else to say.
"I noticed," he responded. His hand, which had rested lightly at the small of her back, shifted, fingers spreading in a slow, deliberate stroke that made her breath hitch. "You moved over to my side sometime after midnight. I decided not to fight it."
"I did not," she protested indignantly, but the words lacked force. Despite his teasing tone, she couldn’t sense any form of deception in his words and knew he was telling the truth.
"But you did, and you looked so adorable, I didn’t have the heart to move you to your original position. I would never have guessed that you liked clinging to people in your sleep."
Ragnar’s smirk was devious, the same type that used to annoy her. Now the sight of it made her stomach swoop, especially with him so close, her body plastered over his bare chest.
She was right where he wanted her and the man would keep her there all day if he could. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
Her cheeks burned hotter. Circe made to retreat, shifting her weight to slip free, but his arm tightened, sliding fully around her waist and tugging her back until she lay half atop him, breasts crushed softly to his chest, hips aligned in a way that made her pulse stutter.
"Stay," he said quietly in her ear and she felt his arm flex around her.
His hand moved again, palm gliding up the curve of her spine, thumb tracing every inch through the thin shift until she arched without meaning to. His palm moved in slow, soothing circles along the arch of her back, as though gentling a wild thing. Each pass coaxed the tension from her muscles until she lay pliant against him, cheek to the steady drum of his heart.
When his fingers reached her nape, he threaded them into her hair, tilting her face to his before kissing her.
The kiss started gentle, barely a brush of lips. Then her lips parted on a quiet gasp and he took the invitation, tongue sliding against hers in a slow, deliberate claiming that turned her bones liquid. She felt the growl that rumbled in his chest more than heard it, felt it vibrate through her where they touched.
His other hand found the hem of her shift, slipping beneath to bare skin, calloused palm skating up the back of her thigh, cupping, kneading, urging her leg higher until she straddled his hip. The hard line of him pressed against the cradle of her thighs.
He rolled them in one smooth motion so she lay beneath him, the weight of his body a delicious cage. His mouth left hers to trail fire down her throat, teeth scraping lightly at the frantic beat of her pulse. The hand in her hair tightened just enough to make her gasp before letting go, the one on her thigh slid higher, thumb brushing the sensitive crease between her thighs, doing things no one had ever done to her body.
"Ragnar," she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut briefly.
He lifted his head, eyes darkening until it was almost black.
"Tell me to stop," he said, voice rough, "and I will."
