Chapter 17 Beg Your Hardon
Beg Your Hardon
Ragnar
What in blazes was I thinking?
Ragnar ripped open a sack of feed and dipped in a scoop.
That I wanted to mate with her, that’s what.
He carried it to the horse’s stall and filled the feeder.
And I threatened her with even more depraved mating.
He ran a hand down his face and groaned into the waning morning’s breeze.
Because I’ve completely fallen—
“Don’t be mad!” Brioni stood at the foot of the stairs, fingers splayed and blunted teeth on display.
She wasn’t naked—discouraging but probably for the best—nor was she wearing that infirmary tunic but one of her flouncy dresses.
The pale blue skirt’s airiness suited her because she too looked just as flouncy, as if the attack in the woods had never happened.
Maybe he was a good healer.
Ragnar shook his head. “Of course I’m not mad.
” He had been dreading the moment she was well enough to leave him.
He wanted to keep her locked up in his loft forever, tend to her every need, feed her, bathe her, and now that he knew how sweet it could be, hold her through the night.
But as much as he knew she enjoyed that kind of attention, it couldn’t last. Brioni needed more—she needed the freedom to go where she pleased and be out in the moonlight.
“I feel much better,” she said as she sauntered right up to him, risky after what he’d promised her, but maybe in her sleepy daze she’d forgotten.
He cocked a brow. “Oh, are you?”
She nodded, tugging at the cord that hung from his tunic’s neck and wrapping it around her finger.
Then her eyes opened wider as if remembering his gruffest words.
“Not that much better, just enough to go back to work.” She frowned then, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
“I don’t want to, but Alamar and Kat are probably swamped, and I need to earn my keep. Plus…”
Ragnar watched her hesitate, gaze floating away as she nibbled her bottom lip. She was a nibbler as much as she was a flouncer, but it was better every time he watched, so careful and delicate. He wanted to show her what a real bite was like. With fangs. “Tell me.”
“You’ll get sick of me.”
“Never.” The answer was too quick, his voice too urgent, but he supposed it was foregone by now, the truth unspoken but plain.
He needed her even more than she could ever need him even injured and ill.
His heart had ached as he crushed her body against his in the night, missing it before it was even gone.
Brioni laid a hand flat on his chest, her hesitation chased away. “You’ve been working so hard taking care of me and the animals too. I want to thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He watched her fingers trace down his front, every inch eliciting a twitch under his skin.
Brioni hummed, head cocking and curls falling to the side. “No, I can do better, can’t I? Give you something in return?”
Ragnar swallowed back the rebuke that he would never want payment in trade for caring for her, but he had already gotten something, hadn’t he?
Whether her illness was an act or not, it was questionable enough to touch her at all when she was under his care, but he’d delighted in watching her wriggle and listening to her gasp and finally taking what he wanted from her, testing her, teasing her, indulging in the fantasy of commanding her.
“No,” he finally managed, burying those images away. “I—”
She pushed against his chest, and he took a staggered step backward.
Brioni wasn’t strong by any means—she’d been remarkably easy to restrain, in fact—but under her slight touch, he was suddenly like a wobbly hiriivi fawn.
She followed, never letting the space between them grow as she kept pushing.
“There’s something I want to do for you. ”
Ragnar backed into the empty stall at the end of the barn. It had been cleaned and left without a resident, so the new hay on the floor was soft beneath his shuffling boots. “You want to help me with chores?” he asked.
She shook her head, smile curling into deviousness. “I want to thank you properly.” Her hand slid down, past his stomach to glance over his already hardening cock trapped inside his pants. She didn’t grab or squeeze, she just slowly stroked as her tongue darted out and licked her lips.
“Brioni…” Ragnar couldn’t just send her home again, not after the night before, and despite all his aggressive blustering, he was really a weak demon when it came right down to it.
Right down to the ground, where Brioni descended, settling gently on her knees and gazing up at him with big blinking eyes and full lips parted.
Early afternoon moonlight streamed in through the open shutters, glittering over the tops of her breasts on too perfect a display from his position.
She placed her hands on her knees and waited patiently, sweetly, so fucking beautifully.
Ragnar finally loosed an arm from the steely spell her gaze put him under. He cupped her chin and ran his thumb over the plumpness of her pink bottom lip. “It won’t fit.”
“Make it.”
Before he could have a full thought, Ragnar tore at his belt and freed his cock.
It fell out and homed in on her like a hound, and he immediately was conflicted—he shouldn’t be showing her that, and he especially shouldn’t be pointing it at her with such aggression, but Ragnar’s cock could do nothing but be huge and hostile in her presence, engorged with lust and seeking out the source.
His gray skin pulsed as it grew taut, reaching out to the mouth that had fallen open even wider in anticipation and maybe a little in awe.
Blazes, did he want to thrust himself down her throat and fill her belly with seed.
His thoughts muddled as he caught the scent of human arousal.
The vision of every time she hid her wicked smile when needling him filled his mind, every whiny word and defiant declaration and the irritation she insisted on rubbing raw strangling his senses.
She wouldn’t be able to complain and cry with his cock shoved in her mouth.
“It’s so…big,” she finally said with a shuddering breath, staring at it with crossed eyes.
His desire ebbed. “Ah, Bri, you don’t have to—fuck.”
Hands wrapped around his cock, one next to the other, and she sprang up onto her knees, tongue out and pressed to his skin. A tremor ran through Ragnar, desire flowing once again as a wet softness laved beneath the crown, to the tip, and then swirled about the entirety of his cock’s head.
“By the gods, Bri, you’ll put an end to me right here,” he choked out, catching the edge of the stall so he wasn’t brought immediately to his knees.
She snickered, taking a breath and biting down on her lip.
She looked like she might just devour him cock first, like she’d secretly been some vicious animal this whole time, waiting to catch him off guard and pants down to finally do him in.
But the evil look passed, and her grip loosened, one hand coming to his hip and the other tracing fingers down his length.
Those same fingers that had folded so much parchment into tiny figures, the ones that played with her lips in thought and delicately stroked every creature under his care.
Now they were stroking him, even more careful and consequently more torturous.
“Is this okay?” she asked, voice high and curiously innocent considering how lascivious she’d just been.
Ragnar blew out a breath. “Yes.”
“What about this?” She cupped the underside of his cock and guided it toward her again, tongue only poking out over her bottom lip as she closed her mouth around its tip like she was giving it an extremely wet kiss.
“Yes,” he gritted out.
She hummed, the vibration quivering upward and making his balls tighten. Her mouth opened slightly and took more of him, wet, hot, and teasing until she once again eased off. “What about that?”
He nodded, grip on the stall’s edge near splintering.
“Can I do it again?”
He managed a breath and then a nod.
This time she fit a little more of him into her mouth, her lips so tight that when they slipped over the flared edge of his head, he nearly finished on her tongue.
Brioni released him and inspected the now glistening end of his cock, drawing a finger through the anticipation beaded there.
She brought the pearly drop to her mouth and took the whole of her finger, lips drawn tight around her knuckle until she released it with a pop that made his cock twitch.
That made her giggle, her gaze flicking up to meet his.
“You taste yummy,” she said, and then she pounced.
Her grip on the base was a needed godsend, keeping completion at bay as she ran her tongue all over his length.
There was more strength in her hands and her tongue than he expected, sending jolts of pleasure up into his stomach with every long lick she gave him.
A demon’s length was probably much bigger than a human male’s, but she was making quick and smart work out of him anyway, running her tongue over every meaty inch and finally wrapping her lips around the head again.
Brioni slid her encircled hands from the base to her lips, easily gliding in the wetness she’d left behind.
She took a deep breath, chest swelling beneath, and it was like being woken from one pleasant dream into an even better one when Ragnar realized he could reach his free hand down and squeeze her breasts.
She moaned with the head of his cock in her mouth, releasing him only long enough to untie her dress’s neckline and tug down her top to give him better access.
Her breasts spilled out, as round and luscious as the night before, but now he had a hand free to fully explore. Ragnar cupped one, thumb finding her beaded nipple, and pleasure shivered through them both.