Page 36 of The Viking in the Vault (Galactic Librarians #2)

ELENA

W hen I imagined losing my virginity, I never thought I would have spectators.

Although…there are a lot of things about this that don’t really match up with what I pictured.

I wake up warm, confused for a second as I take in my surroundings. The pod…golden light just barely illuminating the space…and Ragnar?—

“Oh gosh—” I gasp.

Because Ragnar is between my legs.

I look down to see the blanket tented in a weird way, antlers clearly visible beneath it, big hands on my inner thighs, spreading me out. My fingers curl in the blankets at the first touch of his tongue to my pussy, dragging up my seam with a satisfied rumble.

“Good morning, Elena,” he mumbles, his tongue flicking against my clit on the L in a way that makes me think he’s really starting to enjoy using my name.

I buck against him, moaning under my breath. Last night…oh my gosh, last night was incredible. I lost count of how many times he made me come; lost track of the hours, lost track of the delightful interruptions to my sleep that happened again and again.

Ragnar moving me up and down his cock in the middle of the night.

Ragnar curling around me from behind.

My viking alien mate…the weirdest combination of words I could have possibly imagined, and the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Mate…you are delicious,” he growls, tongue thrusting inside me between his words. “I cannot get enough of you.”

I want to respond because same here, buddy, but all I can do is let out a stream of mumbling sounds. Ragnar chuckles, cupping my ass in his hands as he continues to feast on me. “I told you I would have you wordless, boneless,” he laughs. “I keep my promises.”

He starts to lash me with his tongue, up and down, and I rock my hips against him in time. I’m already close to another orgasm, but I’ve had so many I think I’m sensitive to the point where a single touch will take me over the edge.

“Wait,” he says—then a big hand moves to fling the blanket off his head, and I see those blue eyes with the pupils blown wide. “I want you to come on my cock.”

I nod vigorously, grabbing him to drag him in, and Ragnar climbs my body in a matter of milliseconds. Just a moment later, he’s pressing inside me, thrusting deep, all the way.

I arch and cry out.

We’re making a hell of a lot of noise.

I don’t care.

Ragnar doesn't seem to care either. His big hands are everywhere, tracing the delicate curve of my waist, cupping my breasts, teasing the small of my back. His lips are on mine, then moving to my neck. I can feel the stubble from his beard against my skin as he sucks and licks his way down.

“Ragnar…” I gasp his name as he thrusts in me deeper. He grunts huskily in response, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity that makes me quiver. He’s not gentle, but not too rough either. Just enough to have me writhing beneath him, moaning his name over and over again.

His kisses deepen as he speeds up his pace, and I can feel that familiar pressure building up inside me. It’s like a swirl of ecstasy ready to explode at any moment.

“I’m…I’m…” I stutter.

“Go ahead,” Ragnar growls in encouragement. The warmth of his breath against my ear sends a shudder down my spine. His fingers dig into my hips as he drives into me with a fervor that leaves me gasping. "Let go, Elena."

My body tightens around him as the pressure reaches its peak, exploding in a wave of pleasure that has me crying out his name. Ragnar grunts, his rhythm faltering for a moment before he's pressing into me again, harder and faster than before.

His movements become erratic and I can tell he's on the edge too. His grip on me tightens, holding me still as he thrusts into me a final time, burying himself deep inside me. He lets out a low groan, his entire body going rigid as his climax hits.

We lay there for a moment, panting heavily, our bodies intertwined. Ragnar's head is buried in the crook of my neck and I can feel his heart pounding against my chest. His hand gently strokes my hair, his touch impossibly gentle compared to the way he thrust into me just now.

“We should probably get up,” I whisper.

Ragnar groans. “This is not the way of my people.”

“What do you mean?”

He raises his head only enough to look me in the eye. “For us…taking a mate would be a large celebration, with a public claiming in front of the clan. And then…then, I would take you to bed and fuck you until you were bred.”

“Oh cool,” I say, my voice high and reedy, the words all wrong. “Um…that sounds like fun.”

A low laugh rumbles in his chest as he ducks his head to brush a kiss to my pulse. “Oh, mate…you have no idea. Of course, we would not have to breed right away…there is time to enjoy one another.”

I blink up at him, heat flooding my cheeks. “You’re saying…that wasn’t you enjoying me?”

Ragnar grins, all teeth and mischief. “That was me starving for you. Enjoying you will take far longer.” He nuzzles the spot just under my ear, his voice a growl. “Days. Weeks. Perhaps cycles.”

My brain short-circuits.

“Okay,” I manage, breathless. “That sounds…like a lot.”

“It will be.” His tongue flicks against my throat, making me shiver. “You will learn every way I can take you. Every way I can make you come. Every sound I can draw from your lips.” He pulls back just enough to look me in the eye. “And you will love it.”

My face is on fire, my whole body still trembling from the orgasm he just gave me, and he’s already talking about cycles of more?

I have got to stretch.

Instead of saying any of that, I groan dramatically and press my palms over my face. “I cannot believe you just woke me up with your mouth on my?—”

“You are welcome,” he interrupts, smug and unrepentant. “I intend to do so again. Often.”

I peek at him through my fingers. “We can’t stay in here forever. You know that, right?”

“I will riot.”

“Ragnar.”

“I will carry you out and kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way.”

I roll my eyes. “So, what? You’re going to growl at Kallisto for breathing near me?”

“I do not growl at her. I glare. ” He grins like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, big guy. Put on some pants.” I sit up slowly, my body sore and spent and satisfied in every possible way. “Because I think Ves is going to ask me how good you were in bed, and I need to be upright to survive the conversation.”

Ragnar’s smile widens. “Tell them the truth, mate.”

“Oh no.”

“Tell them you screamed.”

“Ragnar—”

“Tell them you begged.”

I grab a pillow and smack him in the chest, but he’s laughing now, pulling me into his lap like I weigh nothing at all. He kisses me hard, deeply, and my body melts right back into his, traitor that it is.

He leans back just enough to brush his nose against mine.

“I will put on pants,” he murmurs, “but I am not done with you yet.”

Neither am I.

By the time we actually manage to drag ourselves out of the pod, the camp is wide awake—and unfortunately, so is the gossip network.

I don’t even make it three steps before Ves is sidling up next to me with a grin that could outshine a supernova. They glance at Ragnar, who’s walking beside me like a possessive, seven-foot shadow, then back at me with eyebrows way too high.

“Sleep well?” they ask innocently.

Ragnar doesn’t answer, which I’m grateful for. I do catch the way he places his hand on the small of my back and glares at Dr. Kallisto when she looks in our direction, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Ves,” I hiss, cheeks burning.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” they say, absolutely not sorry at all. “Did I interrupt something? Were you two… busy all night?”

Ragnar growls under his breath, but I step in front of him like I’m shielding Ves from a fire-breathing dragon. “Please,” I whisper, “not in front of him. He’s already one possessive glare away from declaring a public claiming ceremony.”

Ves gasps. “Wait—did he claim you?”

I open my mouth. Close it. Make a helpless little sound that might actually be a squeak. “Not publicly,” I mutter.

“Yrsa help me,” they beam. “Elena, you little minx! You did it! You had sex with the hot ancient alien!”

“Ves—”

“How was it?” they hiss, eyes sparkling like they’re about to combust. “Was it good? Wait—what am I saying, look at you. You’ve got ‘thoroughly ravished’ written all over you. I bet he was incredible.”

I press my palms to my face and groan. “I hate everything.”

“You love something,” they say smugly.

And okay, yes. I do. I love the way he held me afterward, like I was something sacred. I love the sound he made when he spilled inside me, like he’d waited lifetimes for it.

I love that he whispered my name like it was a vow.

I peek at Ves through my fingers. “He was…really good.”

Ves snorts. “Hell yeah.”

“I mean—really good.”

“Tell me everything.”

“I am telling you nothing.”

“Tell me one thing.”

I hesitate. Then, very quietly, I say, “He woke me up with his mouth this morning.”