Free Web NovelChapter 269: Chapter 269
It went on for years. That was one of the reasons he later forced her onto the council, to continue exploiting her abilities for his own gain, whether she wanted to or not.
Her father encouraged her to keep her gift a secret from everyone else, something Circe had been all too happy to comply with. But nothing could erase the damage that experience had carved into her. It was so profound that she had never believed she would share it with anyone, not even Rowen.
And yet here she was now, baring her soul to the man lying beside her. Not just any man, her husband. If there was anyone who might understand, it was Ragnar.
He remained quiet for a long moment, his expression darkened with intensity as he processed everything she had told him. This time, his silence didn’t worry her. She had learned that this was how he was when he was thinking deeply and she had just placed an enormous weight in his hands once again.
"Is that why you hate your father?" he asked at last.
The question took her by surprise, though there was something in his tone that made it sound less like a question and more like an observation. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
She snapped her gaze back to him, lips parting slightly, her eyes widening. "I—how did you know?"
"You frown whenever you speak of him," Ragnar said quietly. "A small crease forms right here." He reached out and smoothed the faint line between her brows, his touch tender. "And compared to how you speak about your mother, the difference is unmistakable."
He curled his arm around her, drawing her closer until she could feel the warmth that radiated off him.
"I’m sorry that happened to you," he said. "No child should ever be forced to do something like that, least of all by a parent." His voice softened. "But I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you."
Ragnar meant every word. He hated her father for what he had done to her but beneath that anger was a quiet, fierce gratitude that Circe felt safe enough with him to open up old memories that she had kept sealed for so long.
Wrapped in his intoxicating nearness, Circe felt emboldened in a way she never had before. Acting on impulse, she lifted herself up, Ragnar’s arm falling away as she moved to straddle him.
He remained perfectly still, content to watch her.
"He is gone now," she said softly, resting her palms against his firm chest, feeling the steady beat beneath her hands. "And such things are best left in the past, don’t you agree?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.
Encouraged by his silent approval, she reached for the hem of her nightgown and pulled it over her head, baring herself to him without hesitation. The fabric was bunched in her hands before she carelessly tossed it aside.
His gaze slowly dipped, taking in the sight of her. He reached up and cupped one of her breasts, rolling her pebbled nipple gently between his fingers until a soft sound escaped her throat. His other hand slid to her waist, then her hip, gliding lower along her thigh, each touch stoking the heat already coiling beneath her skin.
With Circe still astride him, Ragnar shifted, settling his back against the headboard.
Circe rocked slowly against him, her hips moving in a gentle rhythm. Ragnar’s hands were warm on her breasts, cupping their weight as he gave each one careful attention. He took the left nipple between his lips first, sucking softly, then harder, tongue flicking over the tight peak until her breath hitched.
When he switched to the right, he used his fingers on the one he’d just left wet and aching, pinching lightly, tugging just enough to send sharp sparks straight between her legs.
She could already feel how wet she was between her legs, and every slow grind dragged her folds along the hard length of his cock till trapped beneath his breeches.
The friction was maddening but it wasn’t enough.
She lifted herself up on her knees, breaking the contact.
Ragnar’s touch fell away for a moment and now, he simply watched her with dark eyes, arms loose at his sides, letting her lead.
Her fingers found the ties of his breeches. She worked them open quickly, and tugged the fabric down his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, already flushed dark at the head, veins standing out along the shaft. It twitched against his stomach when the cool air hit it.
Circe wrapped her hand around him and gave an experimental squeeze. Ragnar sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. His hips jerked once, before he forced himself still again.
She liked that. She liked watching the muscle in his jaw flex, the way his nostrils flared when she tightened her grip and stroked once, from base to tip.
Then she let go.
Bracing her hands on his chest, she shifted forward and lowered herself until the hot length of him nestled right against her slit. She rocked again, gliding her wetness along every inch of him.
Ragnar groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and raw. His hands snapped to her hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
"Circe," he rasped.
She kept the same slow pace, sliding forward until the head of his cock nudged her clit, then dragging back down so the thick shaft parted her folds without pushing inside. Each pass coated him until he glistened with her arousal.
His breathing grew uneven. One hand slid up her back, urging her down so her breasts pressed against his chest. The new angle dragged him harder against her clit and she whimpered into his neck.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured against her ear, voice rough. "Anything. Just say it."
She lifted her head enough to meet his eyes. Her hair fell around them like a curtain.
"I want you inside me," she said simply.
