Free Web NovelChapter 205: Chapter 205
Ragnar’s hand wrapped around his length and he stroked himself once, twice.
His hand moved with deliberate slowness, the long glide of his fist over his shaft drawing in Circe’s focus like a moth to a flame.
She turned to lay on her side, her eyes unashamedly taking in his naked form like he had done with her moments ago.
The low lamplight illuminated him perfectly, painting gold across the ridges of his abdomen, the flex of muscle in his forearm, and the thick length of his cock. He gave his cock another slow stroke from base to crown, and a bead of glistening moisture gathered at the tip.
Nothing in the world could have torn her gaze away from him in that instant. She could see the thick veins that ran along its length, the way the skin flushed darker when his grip tightened.
He watched her watching him, eyes half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved in something too gentle to be smug. When he reached the edge of the bed he did not climb atop her at once. Instead he knelt there, letting her look her fill, letting the anticipation coil tighter between them.
Circe’s core pulsed, aching for him again as if she hadn’t just been consumed by the most intense pleasure of her life. Her thighs were still parted from his earlier insistence.
The cool air of the room kissed the wet heat he had left behind and she shivered, a fresh pulse of want throbbing low in her belly despite the lingering sensitivity.
Her pebbled nipples tightened further under his gaze as he approached, urging her to lay on her back.
He settled over her slowly, knees nudging her legs even wider, the weight of his body held carefully on his forearms so as not to crush her. The blunt head of his cock dragged along her folds. Never pressing in, only gliding through her slickness, coating himself in her.
Each pass nudged her clit and she jerked, still too sensitive from earlier, a broken sound catching in her throat. Her entire body went as rigid and stiff as a tightly coiled spring.
Ragnar dipped his head, lips brushing the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the frantic pulse beneath her ear. His breath was warm and steady, a contrast to the tremor running through her limbs.
"Breathe with me, Circe," he whispered, so low that she almost didn’t hear it.
She tried. She truly did. But then the broad head of his cock settled at her entrance and every muscle in her body locked.
He felt the way she tensed, the flicker of fear beneath her desire. Her expression was open and vulnerable, more raw and exposed than he had seen her.
He stilled at once, letting just that blunt pressure rest against her, and nothing more. One of his hands left the mattress to cradle her jaw, thumb stroking the frantic beat at her throat.
"Keep your eyes on me," he said softly, voice filled with a type of tenderness he reserved just for her.
She nodded, pupils blown wide.
Gently, he began rocking forward and back, letting her feel him slide along her, letting her body grow accustomed to the shape and feel of him.
Again. Again. Until her thighs loosened of their own accord and her hips tilted, seeking more friction.
Only then did he begin to press inside.
The stretch came slowly, a burning fullness that made her fingers grip his shoulders.
He paused the instant her nails dug in, letting her adjust enough for the sting to ease. His forehead dropped to hers, sweat gathering at his temple from the effort it took to hold still.
"Breathe, my love," he murmured again, and this time she managed it, a shaky inhale that shuddered out of her as he slid another careful inch. Her mind barely registered the words coming out of his mouth.
The feeling was uncomfortable, but beneath the burn was a deeper ache, one that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the way he filled her. When he was halfway inside, he stopped again, letting her feel the way her walls clenched and pulsed around him.
She whimpered, hips shifting restlessly, and the small motion dragged a ragged groan from his chest.
"Circe," he warned, voice rough, "be still a moment or I’ll lose what little control I have left."
But she couldn’t. The fullness was maddening and she needed more. Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him deeper.
Ragnar’s jaw clenched. Sweat slid down the groove of his spine. He gave her another inch, and another, until at last his hips met hers and he was seated fully inside her.
For a long moment neither of them moved.
She could feel every throb of his cock inside her. The discomfort had melted into a deep, steady ache of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Her inner walls clenched around him again and his breath stuttered against her neck.
He stayed perfectly still, letting her grow used to the intrusion, letting the sting fade entirely. After a while, he drew back just an inch and ease forward again, a shallow glide that dragged over every sensitive place inside her.
She gasped when he repeated the motion, slow and relentless, watching her face for any flicker of discomfort. There was none now, only the gradually rising tide of pleasure that built with every gentle thrust.
Her thighs opened wider, knees drawing up to cradle his hips, urging him deeper.
Ragnar’s control frayed, strokes lengthening, deepening. Each thrust dragged along that spot inside her that made her moan and caused her back to arch off the bed.
His hand slid between them, thumb finding her clit again, circling with the same devastating patience until she was trembling beneath him, inner muscles tightening.
Only then did he let himself move faster, hips rolling in a steady, claiming rhythm. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the space around them. freёwebnoѵel.com
His mouth found hers again, swallowing every moan and gasp from her lips as the coil inside her wound tighter and tighter.
Her orgasm crashed over her like a rolling, devastating wave that started somewhere behind her navel and radiated outward until her entire body clenched around him, milking him in rhythmic pulses, his name on her tongue as she shattered into a million pieces.
Ragnar followed her over the edge moments later, hips stuttering, a low guttural sound tearing from his throat as he spilled inside her. He stayed buried deep, arms trembling as he held himself above her, forehead pressed to hers while the aftershocks rolled through them both.
When the last shudder left her, he eased out of her slowly. She winced and he pressed a soft kiss on her temple. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Circe frowned when he shifted toward the edge of the bed, clearly intending to leave.
"Where are you going?" Her voice came out small, even to her own ears. She didn’t know what she expected, but watching him walk away right after hadn’t been part of it, especially not while she could still feel his release inside her.
Sensing the direction of her thoughts, he hurried to reassure her. "I’m only getting something. I’ll be right back."
She stayed silent as he pulled his clothes back on and stepped out. True to his word, he returned moments later, a bowl and washcloth in one hand and a cup of water in the other.
Ragnar handed her the cup first, and she accepted it gratefully, lifting it to her lips. He waited until she finished, then set the empty cup on the nightstand.
With the bowl and cloth in hand, he moved closer, settling between her parted thighs. His touch was gentle as he began to clean the traces of his release from between her legs, each careful stroke softening the knot in her chest.
