my clothes, because he’s lying over me once more, and the heat from his chest flares over me, his scorching breath heating me up. He takes my mouth in his, and I grasp onto his strong shoulders, my fingers digging into muscles. I lift my head to kiss him back, needing this more than I need air.
“Are you sure this will work?” I whisper against the seam of his mouth. It has to work.
“How do you think I’ve dealt with losing my fated mate?” he answers as he pulls back to study me. My body flushes, which is the best way to describe the impulse to cover myself, to drag my clothes back on, terrified he’ll hate what he sees.
He leaves a line of kisses down my stomach, and his tenderness chases away all thoughts. His broad shoulders spread open my legs the lower he drifts. Then he tilts his head up, wearing the most seductive smile. Goosebumps of excitement skim over my skin. How am I supposed to ever say no to him… yet the prominent thought on my mind is why would anyone leave a man like Ragnar? If he was mine, I’d destroy the world to hold onto him, to have him look at me like nothing else matters but me.
This is what I expected to feel and experience with Martell. I cringe internally as my thoughts rouse my wolf to whimper deep in my chest, and I curse myself for even thinking of that bastard in this perfect moment.
Ragnar shuffles lower and is now positioned with his face right between my legs, his strong hands on my inner thighs spreading me wider. Gently, he blows a breath on my exposed area, and I can’t stop myself. I slide my hand quickly to cover myself, my cheeks burning.
“You expect me to help you like this?” he asks sarcastically, one of his eyebrows arching. I never thought I’d ever see a man down between my legs, let alone one that resembles a god, one who is so beautiful I might faint. I lose myself to Ragnar too easily.
Then he leans in, and his long tongue strokes across my fingers, tickling me, and I flinch my hand back. It’s a split-second moment, and his mouth is on my pussy.
I cry out, my back arching with him taking me so hungrily. I don’t know what to expect, but this… oh my fucking god, this is incredible. My experience with men has been nonexistent when it came to anything sexual. I’ve heard women talk about their experiences, seen the men stare at me, grope themselves, but none of that compares to the real thing.
To have a strong Alpha kneeling between my legs is reassuring in the best possible way, his face pushing closer to where I need him the most.
“You are fucking beautiful,” he whispers, then runs his tongue in long strokes over nerve endings that come to life.
I shudder with each touch, my body on fire, and I need him to put out the flames. My pelvis lifts to meet every attentive lick while he slides a finger into me, teasing me just as he had back by the campfire.
It’s hard to believe I’m outdoors being devoured by Ragnar. What stops the other men from coming and finding us? And the witches? But that concern evaporates as quickly as it rises, leaving me utterly at the Alpha’s mercy.
His tongue flicks faster, and we fall into a rhythm. A whimper rolls over my throat, my whole body squirming. I never expected Ragnar to go down on me, and I sure didn’t expect my body to sing in response to his mouth.
The more he eats me, the harder he fingers me, the more intense the arousal crests within me.
“Please, go quicker.” I moan, and he pulls away, gaining himself a loud, protesting snarl.
“Did you say something, little fox?” He licks his glistening lips, then presses two fingers into me.
My eyes widen, and I respond with my legs widening even more, excitement rending me a shivering mess.
“Good girl. I need you ready for me,” he says.
I have questions about exactly how big he is to make such a statement, but when his mouth is on me again, I lose all logical sense. I flop down onto my back in the grassy field, floating on elation. This time he changes it up between licking me and suckling on my sensitive lips, sending jolts of excitement through my entire body.
The wet sounds his fingers make