Free Web NovelChapter 253: Chapter 253
The cool air of the study raised fine hairs along the bare nape of her neck, goosebumps racing over the newly exposed skin of her thighs and the soft curve of her backside. Fresh shivers followed, shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the man behind her.
Circe felt the weight of his stare like a physical caress. It traced every inch of her as if he were memorizing her all over again, claiming her without a single touch. She heard the quiet rustle of fabric as Ragnar loosened his breeches, and each small sound tightened something low and aching inside her, winding her anticipation higher and higher.
She pressed her palms harder against the oak desk, fingers curling slightly into the polished edge. Her breath came shallow, unsteady.
Then he stepped close again.
The blunt head of his cock nudged at her entrance and a broken sound slipped from her throat before she could stop it.
Ragnar’s hand returned to her hip, fingers digging in just enough to hold her still, to remind her she wasn’t going anywhere. His other hand slid up the length of her spine, slow and deliberate, tracing every vertebra until it curled around the nape of her neck. The grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm.
"Say it," he murmured against the shell of her ear, his voice rough with barely leashed hunger. "Tell me what you want."
Her lips parted, breath hitching. The words felt heavy on her tongue, shameless, and it left her utterly exposed
"I want you inside me," she breathed. "Please, Ragnar."
The sound he made in response was a low, feral growl, vibrating through his chest and into her.
He didn’t tease her. Didn’t draw it out the way he sometimes liked to, savoring her desperation. Instead, he thrust forward in one deep stroke, burying himself inside her to the hilt.
Circe’s back arched sharply, a choked cry tearing free as the stretch stole the air from her lungs. It was exquisite and the sudden fullness made her walls flutter and tighten hard around him. Her knees trembled violently, without the desk beneath her hands and his iron grip holding her upright, she would have fallen over.
He stilled for a single heartbeat, letting her feel every thick inch of him, letting her body adjust, letting the sensation sink in until it burned.
Then he began to move.
Hard. Deep, and utterly merciless.
Each thrust drove her forward against the desk, her breasts dragging against the thin silk of her nightgown, nipples tight and aching beneath the fabric. The rhythm was relentless, almost punishing—pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in again, claiming her over and over. The wet, obscene sound of their bodies meeting filled the quiet study, louder than her ragged breaths, louder than the distant noises in the manor.
His grip at her nape tightened by a fraction.
"Look at you," he rasped, his voice thick with dark satisfaction. "Bent over my desk like this. Dripping for me. Taking every inch so perfectly."
Circe could only whimper in response. Words had abandoned her entirely.
He shifted his angle, pressing deeper, harder, and the new pressure against that sensitive place inside her sent stars bursting behind her closed eyes. Her hips jerked instinctively, chasing the sensation, and he answered with a rougher thrust that punched the breath from her lungs.
"Stay," he warned softly, when she started to rise onto her toes. "I said don’t move."
She forced herself back down, chest heaving, palms sliding against the wood.
One of his hands left her hip and slid around her front, fingers finding her swollen clit without hesitation. He touched her, circling, dragging slow, firm strokes at first, then faster, rougher ones, matching the relentless pace of his hips.
She felt like she was going to break.
"Ragnar—" His name slipped from her lips as a moan.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice dark velvet. "Let me feel it. Let me feel this sweet little cunt milk me while you scream."
That was all it took.
Her climax tore through her like wildfire, white-hot and blinding. She cried out, loud and unrestrained, a distant part of her mind dimly hoping the guards were far enough away not to hear.
Her inner walls clamped down hard around him, fluttering and spasming, dragging him deeper as wave after wave crashed through her. Her legs shook violently.
She barely remained upright, held together by his grip and the desk beneath her hands.
Ragnar didn’t stop.
He didn’t slow his pace, thrusts turning harder, rougher as he chased his own release. His breath came in harsh pants against her neck. He gentled his strokes on her clit but he never stopped, coaxing out every last tremor until she was whimpering, oversensitive and still achingly greedy. free𝑤ebnovel.com
When he finally came, it was with a low, guttural groan that vibrated through her skin.
For long moments, neither of them moved. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
There was only the sound of their uneven breathing, the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth, and the quiet aftermath of what they just did wrapping around them.
Slowly, carefully, he eased out of her. She felt the warm slide of their mingled release along her inner thighs and shivered again, sensitive and spent.
Ragnar bent over her once more, his lips brushing the nape of her neck. His hands smoothed down her sides, steadying her, grounding her as her legs continued to tremble.
Then, without effort, he gathered her up, strong arms sliding beneath her knees and back and lifted her from the desk as though she weighed nothing at all.
Circe curled instinctively into his chest, her limbs heavy, her body still humming with lingering aftershocks.
He carried her toward the door without a word, as though nothing else in the world could pry away his attention.
The ledgers lay scattered across the oak desk, forgotten and abandoned. Tomorrow, he would return to them.
But tonight, she was his.
And he was hers.
