Free Web NovelChapter 228: Chapter 228
Circe and Ragnar climbed into their carriage the moment the ball drew to a close, eager to return home. Ragnar placed a firm, possessive hand at the small of Circe’s back as he guided her inside, following only after she was properly seated. Once within the enclosed space, they took seats opposite one another. From that moment on, Ragnar did not take his eyes off her, not even once.
Circe, for her part, attempted to feign innocence. She sat primly, spine straight, hands folded demurely in her lap, the very picture of composure. But the act fooled no one, least of all Ragnar, especially not with the way the corners of her mouth kept twitching upward, betraying a teasing smile she couldn’t quite suppress.
She did her best to avoid his gaze, staring instead at some invisible point past his shoulder. But when she finally looked at him, she did so with the most beguiling smile Ragnar had ever seen. It was clearly meant to distract him from the plans already forming in his mind, plans for how he would claim his recompense for what she had done to him in the gardens. Yet her charms and feminine wiles would not save her this time.
"Why don’t you come and sit over here with me?" Ragnar said calmly. "I much prefer having you close."
He held her gaze as he patted the empty space beside him on the bench. She could refuse. She could remain exactly where she was but he phrased the invitation with just enough challenge to make refusal difficult. His stare was a dare on its own, challenging her to remain where she sat. He knew her well enough to know that nothing compelled her faster than the feeling of being challenged.
A second passed. She remained still, weighing her options. She knew, with all certainty, that whether she went to him now or not would do nothing to change what he had planned for her later.
Her mind made up, she rose from her seat and crossed the carriage. But instead of settling into the place he had indicated, she turned at the last moment and sat squarely on his lap.
She stared directly into his face as she did so.
"Is this close enough for you?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.
"Not quite," Ragnar replied.
He turned her smoothly so that she was straddling him. The position was uncomfortably reminiscent of one they had found themselves in not so long ago. His arm wrapped around her at once, holding her firmly against him.
Like this, she was completely plastered to him, her chest pressed to his. The pale blue fabric of her gown billowed around them like a soft cloud, pooling against his legs. When she shifted to make herself more comfortable, she became acutely aware of his arousal, hard and pressing against her through his breeches.
He shot her a glare as though it were entirely her fault. freeweɓnøvel.com
In response, her lips stretched into a sharp, toothy smile that was equal parts mischievous and defiant. At that moment, the carriage lurched forward and began to roll.
"My, my, Your Highness," she teased lightly, "who would have thought you were so insatiable?"
"I wasn’t like this before you came along," Ragnar said through gritted teeth. Before he had known the perfection of being buried in the tight, welcoming heat between her thighs. Before then he had prided himself on his unwavering self-control.
"So what you’re saying," she murmured, her arms sliding up and around his neck, "—is that this is my fault."
"Yes," Ragnar replied flatly.
Circe couldn’t help herself. She threw her head back and laughed, a delighted, and triumphant sound. But the laughter caught abruptly in her throat, turning into a choked moan when Ragnar’s free hand slipped beneath the ruffles of her dress while she was distracted. She only realized something was wrong when the pad of his finger slid deliberately along her slick folds.
The shock on her face was priceless. Her mouth fell open as she glanced down, staring at the hand now hidden beneath her dress, as though trying to understand how he had managed it without her noticing. She sucked in a sharp breath when his finger found her clit and began to rub it in slow, gentle circles.
The sensation sent waves of pleasure through her body, enough to make her knees weaken, but Ragnar knew it would not be enough to push her over the edge. Wickedly, he made sure of that.
He slid two fingers inside her, and without thinking she shifted, instinctively trying to take them deeper. His fingers moved languidly, setting a steady rhythm as they pumped in and out of her, while his thumb worked her clit at the same time. The carriage continued to rock beneath them, each jolt only heightening the sensation.
Before long, Circe felt the tension coil tight in her lower belly. Her breath came in shallow gasps as pleasure mounted, her entire body growing taut, like a spring wound too tight.
She squeezed her eyes shut, teetering on the brink of release and then his fingers stilled.
Her eyes flew open instantly as the pleasure slipped from her grasp, the edge she had been balanced on suddenly pulled far, far away.
She stared at him in bewilderment, silently urging him to finish what he had started, but his fingers remained annoyingly still.
"What? Why?" she rasped, her voice hoarse and uneven. Her breath hitched as she took in the serene expression on his face. He looked entirely too innocent, nothing like a man cruel enough to deny her pleasure in such a calculated, infuriating way.
Before she could voice another word of protest, his fingers began to move again, exerting the same pressure on her clit as before, so seamless it felt as though he had never truly stopped. Her body responded instantly, muscles tightening as heat coiled low in her belly. But just like the first time, his hand stilled the moment her release hovered within reach, so close it would have taken only a few more strokes to send her over the edge.
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