Free Web NovelChapter 383: Chapter 383
The water sloshed gently as Ragnar settled in, his legs brushing against Circe’s beneath the surface. The tub was spacious, but with both of them inside, the space shrunk considerably, their bodies too close. Steam rose in lazy tendrils, carrying the scent of lavender and rose oil that clung to the air.
Circe watched him through half-lidded eyes, her earlier thoughts fading as she took in the mouthwatering sight of him. His broad shoulders filled the opposite end of the tub, water beading on his chest and tracing paths down to where it met the surface. She shifted slightly, her foot grazing his calf, and the contact sent a subtle spark through her.
"You look relaxed," Ragnar said, breaking the quiet. He leaned back, arms resting on the tub’s rim, his gaze steady on her face. fгeewebnovёl.com
"I am. The bath helped." she replied, her tone soft. She drew her knees up a fraction, the water rippling around her.
He nodded as he allowed his eyes to drift down for a moment before returning to hers, unable to help himself. He reached for a wash cloth draped over the edge of the tub, dipping it into the water and wringing it out.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing toward her shoulders.
She barely hesitated before nodding her head.
Ragnar moved forward carefully as he closed the distance. He pressed the warm cloth to her neck, letting the heat seep in before gently running it along her soft skin. His touch was light, as he traced the line of her collarbone.
Circe closed her eyes, sighing as his rough fingertips followed the cloth, pressing into her skin and massaging in slow circles. The pressure was firm easing knots she hadn’t realized were there. She felt his breath against her skin when he leaned closer, his free hand steadying her arm.
"That feels good," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
He only hummed in response, his thumb pressing into a tight spot at the base of her neck. He worked methodically, moving down her shoulders and along her upper back. The water lapped at their bodies with each shift, a rhythmic sound that matched the steady beat of her heart.
As he continued, his hands grew bolder, sliding lower to her mid-back. Circe arched slightly into his touch, the sensation pulling a soft sigh from her throat. She opened her eyes to find him watching her intently, his expression a tender mix of want and affection.
Without a word, she reached out, her fingers trailing along his forearm. His muscle flexed under her touch, and she followed the path up to his bicep, feeling the strength there. Ragnar paused his ministrations, setting the cloth aside, and captured her hand in his. He brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
The gesture was simple, but it ignited a warmth in her core that had nothing to do with the bath. She pulled him closer, her other hand finding his chest, palm flat against the firm plane of muscle. His skin was slick and hot under her fingers.
Ragnar responded in kind, his arms encircling her waist beneath the water. He drew her onto his lap, the movement sending water cascading over the tub’s edge. She straddled him, her thighs pressing against his. Their faces were inches apart now, breaths mingling.
He cupped her cheek, tilting her head to meet his gaze.
"Circe," he said, her name a rough whisper. Then his mouth was on hers. The kiss started slowly— his lips brushing almost lazily over her, parting and tasting her. She leaned into it, her hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly.
The kiss deepened as his tongue sought hers, a gentle exploration that quickly turned urgent. Circe felt his arousal press against her inner thigh, hard and throbbing. She shifted, grinding down on it subtly, eliciting a low groan from him that vibrated against her lips.
His hands roamed her back, then lower, gripping her hips to guide her movements. The friction built a steady ache between her legs.
"Ragnar..." She moaned.
He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear. One hand slid up her side, thumb brushing the underside of her breast. She arched further, offering more, and he took it, his palm cupping her fully. His fingers teased her nipple, rolling it until it peaked under his touch.
Circe’s breath hitched, her hips rocking against him in response. She barely noticed anything else, lost in the building heat. She reached down between them, her hand wrapping around his length. He was thick and rigid in her grasp, and she stroked him with firm jerks of her wrists, just the way he liked. Just the way he taught her.
He growled against her throat, his own hand dipping lower, fingers finding her center. He parted her folds with care, circling her most sensitive spot before pressing inside. Circe moaned, her head falling back as he worked her skillfully, his thumb maintaining pressure where she needed it most.
She tightened her grip on him until the tension coiled unbearably tight within her. Ragnar captured her mouth again, swallowing her cries as release crashed over her, her body shuddering in his arms.
As Ragnar held her through the aftershocks, his fingers still buried inside her, Circe’s body trembled against him. She clung to his shoulders, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. But the fire in his eyes told her they weren’t done.
With a gentle lift, he guided her hips upward, aligning himself at her entrance. Her gaze locked on his as she slowly sank down onto him.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him, while his large palm splayed across her back, steadying her. Circe looped her arms around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the fullness. Their bodies pressed together, skin slick from the water, hearts pounding in unison.
Ragnar dipped his head, his lips tracing a path down her chest. He kissed the swell of her breasts, then took one nipple between his lips, nipping just hard enough to send a sharp jolt through her.
She gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure, amplified by the deep pressure of him inside her. He switched to the other side, repeating the bite, soothing it with his tongue afterward.
The water rippled around them as Circe began to move, lifting herself up and sliding back down his length. Each stroke sent him deeper, hitting spots that made her core clench tighter. Ragnar’s hand on her back guided her rhythm, his hips thrusting up to meet her halfway. The sensation built quickly, her walls gripping him as she rode him harder.
Her climax approached fast, her muscles quivering around him. She moved faster, the water splashing against the tub’s sides. Pleasure rose in waves, crashing over her until she shattered again, crying out his name as her body convulsed.
Ragnar held her through it, his grip firm, murmuring words of encouragement against her skin.
As she came down, her long hair clung wetly to her back and shoulders, strands sticking to her flushed face. She leaned into him, trying to calm her racing pulse and the thump of her heart echoing in her ears. Ragnar kissed her forehead, giving her a moment to recover, but his own need was evident in the tension of his body.
Gently, he lifted her off his lap, and turned her around, positioning her to face the opposite end of the tub. Circe bent forward, her upper body leaning over the rim, hands gripping the cool edge for balance.
Behind her, Ragnar knelt closer, his hands on her hips. Water sloshed as he aligned himself and pushed in slowly, filling her from this new angle. The position allowed him deeper access, and Circe moaned, her fingers tightening on the rim. He started with measured thrusts, building a steady pace, each one drawing a gasp from her.
His hands roamed her body, one sliding up to cup her breast, pinching her nipple, the other pressing between her legs to circle her clit. The dual stimulation made her push back against him, meeting his movements. Ragnar’s breaths grew heavier, his grip on her hip tightening as he thrust harder.
He leaned over her, his chest against her back, lips finding her neck. The angle hit perfectly, sending sparks through her with every stroke.
Circe’s moans turned to pleas, her body building toward another peak.
Her walls pulsing around him, pulling him over the edge. He came with a deep groan, spilling inside her as he held her close.
Finally, Ragnar pulled out gently, turning her to face him again. He gathered her in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. The bathwater had cooled slightly, but the heat between them lingered. A moment later, he was lifting her up in his arms and stepping out of the tub. She shivered slightly when cold air caressed her skin and he placed her in front of the lit hearth to stay warm.
