Page 64 of The Viking in the Vault
“Elena,” he says softly.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe.
His nose brushes my temple. “You are trembling.”
I am. I am trembling.
Because I want him. And I’m scared of how much I want him.
“I just—” I swallow hard, forcing myself to sound normal. “I just—haven’t done this before.”
Ragnar stills. “This?”
I gesture vaguely. “This. This.”
He’s silent for a moment. Then, his hand moves again—slow, steady, up my side, his palm wide and warm as it curves around my waist. Holding me.
“Elena,” he murmurs. “I know.”
I turn, blinking up at him. “You…do?”
He nods, his expression unreadable. “I knew the first night I touched you.”
Heat floods my face. “Oh, God.”
His lips twitch, amused. “You do not need to fear me, fenvarra,” he says, his thumb dragging lightly, so lightly, over the bare skin of my wrist. “I would never take what you are not ready to give.”
I bite my lip. I believe him.
And yet—I want.
I ache.
And the way he’s touching me now, gentle, reverent, waiting?—
It’s too much.
I shift, setting my cocoa aside, and before I can overthink it, I turn fully into him, tilting my head back. “Then…kiss me,” I whisper.
Ragnar growls.
The next second, his mouth is on mine.
The taste of cocoa and spice and Ragnar floods my senses. His lips are warm and firm, his hand tightening on my waist as he devours me.
I gasp, and he takes advantage, licking into my mouth, deep and slow, like he has all night to taste me, like he plans to take all night.
Heat erupts inside me.
I grasp at his shoulders, pulling myself closer, but he keeps that slow, steady, agonizing pace. His hands remain where they are—one at my waist, the other warm against my back—but there’s tension in him now, a barely restrained hunger in the way his fingers flex, in the way his breathing deepens against my lips.
I can feel his restraint. I’m grateful for it…but it makes me want him even more.
I shift closer, pressing against him, and the sound he makes—a low, guttural noise, half a growl, half a sigh—sends a shiver through me. His grip tightens, pulling me fully into his lap, and I feel that big, hard cock press between my legs. It feels good…toogood. Makes me grind against it, Ragnar pulling away from my lips with a groan.
“Elena,” he rasps. “You must tell me—do you want this?”
I exhale shakily. “Yes.”
