Page 28 of The Viking in the Vault (Galactic Librarians #2)

RAGNAR

I have been so desperate for her, and now that I’ve tasted her…I want all of her, all the time.

Elena clings to me as I carry her to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us so we aren’t disturbed by Fenrik. Elena kisses a trail up my throat, her arms wrapped around my neck, and she lets out a little noise of protest when I separate from her to put her down on the bed.

“Ragnar—” she starts.

I kneel between her thighs, smoothing my hands over them. I’m so aroused that I need to restrain myself if I don’t want to go too far; my cock is aching to be inside her, to fuck her and claim her.

“You asked me not to give you my cock tonight, fenvarra,” I growl. “But…what do you want? I am yours, fully and completely.”

Elena’s breath hitches, her pupils dark and wide as she stares down at me. My hands flex on her thighs, savoring the heat of her skin beneath my palms, but I stay still, waiting. Letting her decide.

She swallows, her fingers tightening where they rest against my shoulders. “I…” She hesitates, then exhales shakily. “I want to touch you.”

I let out a low, pleased rumble, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Then touch me, fenvarra.”

Her hands trail down, tentative at first, fingers gliding over my shoulders, tracing the ridges of muscle along my arms. I stay still as she explores me, letting her set the pace. But the way she looks at me—like I am something precious, something wanted—makes my breath grow unsteady.

She drags her hands down my chest, over my stomach, her fingers lightly grazing the waistband of my sweatpants. My cock throbs at the teasing brush, a sharp pulse of need, but I hold myself still.

Elena bites her lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “Can I…?”

I groan. “Anything you want.”

Her hands slide under the waistband, her touch slow, careful. She wraps her fingers around me, and my whole body jerks in response, a guttural growl spilling from my throat.

Elena stills. “Was that…okay?”

I grip her thighs, panting. “More than okay.” I lower my forehead to hers, shaking. “You undo me.”

A small, delighted laugh escapes her, and then—gods help me—she moves. Her hand strokes down my length, tentative, exploring, and I swear I could come undone just from this—just from her.

I exhale sharply, my fingers tangling in her hair. “You learn fast, mate.”

She grins, bolder now, gripping me now, her fingers barely able to wrap around my girth. “I like learning.”

I groan, my grip on her tightening. “Then study me as long as you wish.”

She starts to stroke up and down, her eyes locked on me as I take sharp, unsteady breaths. Her free hand comes up to grasp my antler, her lips parted. “You feel good,” she whispers.

“You have no idea,” I groan.

“Will you…” she pauses like she can’t get the words out, though her hand keeps moving at that agonizing pace. “...will you stand up? I want to return the favor.”

It takes me a moment to catch her meaning, and then I’m scrambling to my feet, Elena’s eyes raised to mine before she looks straight ahead—at where my hard cock tents my pants. Licking her lips, she curls her fingers in the waistband of my pants, then pulls them down to free me.

I moan when her tongue flicks out to taste me…as she kisses the tip of my cock.

I curse, my hands shooting to her shoulders, not to push her away—but to steady myself. My whole body shakes at the first soft, teasing press of her lips, and when she does it again, my head tips back, a growl escaping me.

“Elena,” I rasp, warning, because if she keeps this up, I don’t know how long my restraint will last.

She hums in response, the vibration traveling straight through me, and I jerk, barely suppressing a groan as she drags her tongue along the head of my cock.

She’s tentative at first, tracing me, learning my shape, and then—gods help me—she savors me, her mouth warm and wet as she takes me between her lips.

I groan, my fingers tightening against her shoulders as I fight the urge to thrust forward. “Elena?—”

She pulls back slightly, her breath warm against my skin. “Good?” she asks, her voice softer now, curious, her fingers still wrapped around me.

I huff out a laugh—a shaky one. “Good? Fenvarra, you are ruining me.”

Her lips curve, and then—then—she takes me deeper.

My vision blurs. My head falls forward, my breath leaving me in a harsh exhale. Fucking hell. Her tongue swirls around me, her lips stretching as she hollows her cheeks, and I nearly lose myself right then.

My hands find her hair, not to force her—never—but to anchor myself. “Sweet gods,” I pant, barely holding myself together. “You—you take me so well?—”

Elena moans softly around me, and I snap.

Not in a way that frightens her—not in a way that pushes her too far—but in a way that breaks my restraint.

I guide her pace, my hands trembling in her hair as she works me, her tongue teasing, her lips tightening. She watches me through her lashes, her eyes dark with determination and desire, and something primal in me howls.

She is mine.

She wants this.

She wants me.

And gods, I am undone.

“Elena,” I warn, my voice a ragged growl, my control fraying. “If you do not stop, I will?—”

Her lips come free with a pop, her hand stroking me faster. “I want you to come in my mouth,” she rushes out, finally being explicit in such a way that makes me feral with lust. “Please, Ragnar. I want to make you feel good.”

I snarl, my hands tightening in her hair, my entire body shuddering at her words.

My breath leaves me in a ragged groan as she takes me into her mouth again, her tongue flicking, her lips sealing tight around me as she moves with slow, devastating purpose.

She’s still learning, still finding her rhythm, but she is so eager, so determined, and gods—I cannot hold back.

“Elena,” I grit out, my voice nothing but gravel, rough and fraying at the edges. “Fenvarra?—”

She moans, her free hand sliding around to grasp my backside so I cannot escape her, forcing me deeper into her throat.

Her tongue presses against the underside of my cock, her hand pumping the length she can’t fit, her pace quickening, pushing me toward the edge.

Her lips are wet, her mouth hot and slick, her throat swallowing around me, and I?—

Gods help me.

I yank hard on her hair, my muscles locking tight, my whole body tensing as I fight against the urge to thrust deep—to let myself go entirely.

But I can’t—not yet. Not until she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me, and gods, the sight of her—her lips stretched around me, her eyes glazed with pleasure and pride—it utterly destroys me.

“You want it?” I rasp, barely holding on. “You want to taste me, mate?”

She moans in response, her fingers digging into my thigh, her mouth sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing, and I?—

I snap.

I growl, deep and feral, my cock twitching on her tongue, my whole body shuddering as my climax slams through me with bone-rattling force. I barely manage to warn her before I come, my hands tightening in her hair, my breath leaving me in a guttural exhale as pleasure rips through me.

And Elena—gods, Elena—she takes it all.

She swallows me down, her lips tightening, sucking, drinking as I shudder through the aftershocks. She doesn’t pull away, doesn’t flinch—she just takes, her hands gripping my thighs, milking every last drop from me until I am left standing there, dazed, panting.

I blink down at her, trembling, spent.

I’m still shaking as I reach for her. My strength has been tested in battle, in hardship, in war—but this, what she has just done to me, has undone me in a way I never expected.

I don’t rush. I don’t move with urgency. I move with purpose.

Elena watches me, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. I reach down and lift her easily into my arms to bring us both under the covers, and she lets out the smallest, softest sigh when I settle her against the pillows.

She’s already shifting toward me, curling into me, seeking my warmth—and gods, if that doesn’t break me all over again.

I brush my knuckles over her cheek, tracing her flushed skin. “Are you tired, fenvarra?”

She shakes her head, her fingers slipping up to my chest, trailing along my skin in lazy, reverent strokes. “Not yet.”

I hum, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead before letting my hand drift down, toying with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Will you let me see all of you?”

Her lips part. I wait. She nods.

Slowly, I ease her sweatshirt up and over her head, careful not to startle her, savoring the sight of her bare skin as it is revealed to me inch by inch.

Her PJ top follows, and when she is left completely bare to me, I can’t help the sound that rumbles from my chest—deep, reverent, full of aching, breathless awe.

She bites her lip. “You’re looking at me like you’re seeing me for the first time.”

I am.

I press a kiss between her collarbones, my lips moving lower, over the soft swell of her breast. “I have dreamed of you like this,” I murmur, my breath warm against her skin. “But even my dreams did not prepare me for the reality.”

Her breath catches when I kiss her there—just below her nipple, slow and tender, letting my mouth explore her the way I’ve wanted to.

I am in no hurry.

I kiss her again, and then again, my lips moving lower, my tongue flicking out to taste her. I trace the peak of her breast, drawing a soft whimper from her, and then I take her into my mouth, sucking gently, savoring her.

Elena gasps, arching into me, her fingers weaving into my hair, her body warm and pliant beneath me.

I groan against her skin, dragging my tongue over her nipple, teasing, my free hand cupping the other breast, kneading softly as my lips continue their worship.

“You are perfect,” I murmur, letting my teeth graze her lightly before soothing the touch with my tongue. “Every inch of you.”

Her nails dig into my shoulders. “You’re so…” she trails off, her breath shuddering. “So—thorough.”

I smirk against her skin, kissing lower before returning my lips to hers. “I take my time with what is mine, fenvarra.”

She melts into me, curling into my arms as I lay beside her, my body cradling hers, my lips still brushing along her throat, her shoulder, anywhere I can reach. She sighs, content, her bare skin warm against mine.

And Yrsa preserve me, I have never felt peace like this.

I pull the blankets over us, wrapping her in my arms, keeping her close. She nuzzles into my chest, her breath evening out, her fingers tracing slow, lazy lines over my skin.

“Are you sure you’re okay with not doing it tonight?” she asks.

I frown, but quickly infer her meaning, only to nod and hold her closer.

“I would wait another four thousand years for you, if that’s what you wish,” I tell her.

Elena hums, her fingers tracing lazy circles over my skin. “You know, I don’t think I want to wait four thousand years.”

I smirk against her hair, rolling her gently beneath me, just enough to press my weight into her, to remind her exactly what she’s waiting for. “Then name the day, fenvarra,” I murmur, my voice dark with promise. “And I will ruin you.”

Her fingers curl against my ribs, a slow, contented sigh leaving her lips. “Good,” she whispers.

And as her breathing evens out, I hold her tighter, knowing I would wait until the stars burned out if it meant she would always end up in my arms.