Page 87 of The Viking in the Vault
He smiles. “Anything, Elena.”
I move to accommodate him as he slides his hands under my sweater, finding my thermal beneath. I’m wearing so many layers from our hike, and I spent all day cold…but now I’m hot, sweating, eager to get naked and see what my mate will do with me. He lifts my sweater and thermal up, then I raise my arms over my head so he can place them on the bed, out of the way. I’m wearing a sports bra underneath that’s a little snug, leaving red marks on my skin that make Ragnar frown.
“I do not like seeing the way this has cut into you,” he murmurs. “May I tear it off?—”
“No matter how great that sounds, I need to wear this tomorrow,” I cut him off with a short laugh. “Um…let me?—”
I reach down to pull the elastic wide and over my head. I lose sight of the world for a moment, and while I’m still blind, I feel Ragnar’s hands on my breasts, cupping them, nipples pinched between thumb and forefinger.
I make a sound I don’t recognize as I throw the bra into the pile of clothes, looking down at Ragnar’s face, trained on my breasts.
He groans.
“You are so soft,” he rasps, rolling my nipples. “So beautiful.”
I arch into his touch as he teases me, torments me. Then his lips descend. He kisses the curve of my breast, and his tongueflicks out to drag along my flesh before sucking my nipple into his mouth. I cry out, my head falling back, my fingers tangling in his blue-black hair, and he rumbles with possessive satisfaction.
“I want to see all of you,” he starts. “May I?—”
“Hurry,” I gasp out, already reaching for the button of my pants. “I really want?—”
“We will take our time, fenvarra,” he says. “I told you…no sleep, not tonight. Let me.”
I can barely hold myself still as he reaches down to my boots…undoes them lace by agonizing lace. He places them carefully at the bedside, then he’s moving to my pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, tugging at the waistband and down my thighs, leaving my knee-high socks.
“No socks?” I ask, biting my lip.
“I like how they accentuate your thighs,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to said thigh, his antlers framing my shoulders. “And I don’t want your feet to be cold.”
A laugh bursts out of me by surprise, and I cover my mouth to stop it…because of course Ragnar is thinking about my comfort, if I’m too cold or not. Yep—my four-thousand-year-old warrior, who just told me he plans to keep me up all night wringing pleasure out of me—is also deeply, profoundly concerned my feet might get cold.
It’s so endearing that I almost forget I’m nearly naked in front of him…until he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.
Then I remember he isn’t just adorable, he’s also huge. And hot. And muscular.
And about to ravish me like we’re in a smut novel.
He starts with his belt, keeping his eyes on mine as he unbuckles it, tosses it aside. His sweater and thermal come next…unzip, shed, repeat, reveal a whole lot of tattooed chest. His tattoos glimmer blue in the warm, soft light, and he smiles asmy breath catches at the sight of his jutting cock when he pulls his pants down his thighs.
I tasted it the other night…I sucked on it until he came.
I want to do it again.
I let out a breathy sigh and Ragnar chuckles as he reaches down to pull his boxers down, his cock coming free. I’m struck even now by the sight of just how similar to a human he is…and altogether different. His cock is ridged in three tiers with glowing, pulsing veins, uncut, big and hard. He reaches down and strokes himself, eyes closing for a moment as he loses himself to the pleasure of it, and he smiles when he opens his eyes again.
“Elena,” he growls. “When you look at me like that…I fear I could spend without even touching you.”
“Whoa,” I whisper. “Um…yeah, same.”
“Don’t you dare,” he laughs low in his throat as he comes toward me, crawling into the bed. I shuffle backward, letting him in between my thighs, taking deep and heavy breaths. “I want you coming on my tongue or my cock all night. I will make good on my promise…taste you until you are sobbing my name. And when you are trembling, aching, and desperate for me…then I will give you my cock and show you pleasures you’ve scarcely dreamed of.”
I think I try to say words, but words aren’t exactly wording right now. He finally hooks his fingers in my panties and drags them down my thighs, then he takes my legs in his hands, underneath my knees—and he drapes my legs over his antlers. It’s strangely comfortable, even if he’s staring at my pussy like he’s going to shoot lasers out of his eyes.
“Now,” he growls. “Give me your pleasure.”
Then he lowers his mouth to me.
I buck into his mouth, hand shooting down to grab the silky ponytail at the crown of his head. My other hand finds my breastand tugs on my nipple, and I already feel like I’m starting to come undone. “Ragnar!”
