Chapter 17 Beg Your Hardon #2
“What a good girl,” Ragnar groaned, releasing the wall and reaching for her other breast as she arched her back and nursed at the head of his cock.
Though her strokes grew steadier and faster, she was reacting even needier, and it reminded Ragnar that he could control this too.
But he had to be sure she wanted that. “Can you take more of me?”
Her gaze drifted upward, cock still in her mouth. She nodded, hands coming away from the rest of his length.
Ragnar reached to the back of her head and cradled it as he eased himself deeper.
Brioni made a muffled noise of surprise, and he stopped. She swallowed, mouth contracting around him, but kept him there.
“More?” he asked.
She nodded again.
Ragnar laced his fingers into her hair and pushed deeper.
The feel of her around him was like nothing else, tight and especially eager, her tongue trapped under his length still drawing small paintings on the underside of his cock.
He drew himself back and slowly drove in again, hips begging to move faster, every muscle in controlled agony.
There was a sweetness still on her face until he pushed a bit harder. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at her skirt, a whine escaping from her filled mouth.
Ragnar pulled out immediately, and she sucked in a deep breath. He abandoned her breast and slid his hand under her chin. “Are you all right, Bri?”
“Yes.” She swallowed and grinned, though there was a glassiness in her eyes. “I want all of you.”
Ragnar’s chest rumbled, and his mind blurred. He wanted to give her everything, and her words were seared into his mind—I think I want it to hurt—but she seemed too close to overwhelmed. “I don’t think you can take all of me. Maybe use your hands—”
She snorted, scrunching up her face and clasping her hands behind her back. “No. I want to use my mouth.”
His brow lifted, smirk impossible to hide from the new thought that wickedly wandered into his mind. “Have you really been such a bad girl that you think you need your mouth punished with my cock?”
The smell of her arousal was undeniable then as she thrust her chest out and extended her tongue, nodding vigorously.
Ragnar was hesitant, but his body was not.
He gripped himself at the base and fisted her hair, dragging her lips to his length and sliding past them easily.
She squeaked in surprise as he drove deeper into her mouth, and then she let out a muffled moan.
He tipped her head back, and her knees spread beneath her, surely that hot middle of hers seeking some attention.
Her breasts heaved with the deep breaths she took through her nose as he continued to feed himself down her throat.
When he reached the depth he thought she could take, he withdrew, watching her body shiver, but he didn’t give her a break, head still firmly in her mouth. If she wanted to be punished, he was more than willing to give her what she deserved.
Ragnar drove back down her throat and dragged himself out again, quicker than before, hips rhythmic as he used her.
She had free use of her hands at any moment to stop him, but she kept them clasped behind her as if craving more restriction.
He could wrap his tail around her wrists again, but not this time, not until he knew for certain she wanted what he had to give.
Instead, he let his tail tickle at her knee, her thigh, and climb up to her breast as he continued to fuck her face, hands too busy holding the base of himself so he wouldn’t go too deep and cradling her head just where he wanted it.
Brioni made a muted sound when his tail flicked at each nipple, and her eyes squeezed shut.
The scent of her arousal deepened, but she hadn’t earned another climax—she hadn’t really earned the first one.
He was just desperate to give it to her, to make her know what he was capable of, what he could continue to give her if she just behaved.
At least this was a start.
“Fuck, Bri, you feel amazing,” he gritted out, and she moaned a happy sound, the vibration flooding every inch of his body. “You’re such a good girl, giving me your mouth like this.”
She panted harder beneath him, and he felt her trying to take more, the encouragement like a spell that opened her throat. Ragnar thrust a little harder then and tugged at her fisted hair. Brioni’s breasts heaved, and her adorable face scrunched with the effort to take as much as possible.
“My pretty little human,” he huffed between thrusts. “You’re doing such a good job. You’re going to make me give you everything, if you keep letting me fuck you like this. Do you want my seed down your pretty throat?”
Brioni’s eyes opened, green rings narrow as they darted side to side.
“No?” His hold on her hair softened, thrusts slowing to a stop, though his body begged to continue. “Be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want.”
She hesitated, then she eased herself back as he withdrew his cock. It was painfully rigid, tip still leaking and soaked as it pulsed between them, but he could hardly care. He needed her words.
She took a few leveling breaths as drool dripped down her chin.
Ragnar wiped the saliva away from her face gently. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything, Brioni.”
“I don’t think I can swallow it.”
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I want to finish, though,” she said with a needy desperation and grabbed onto his throbbing cock with both hands again. “Please, let me.”
Ragnar grinned, clutching the stall door again. “I think you’ve earned it,” he huffed, and that was all she needed. Her hands wrapped around him and began stroking with skill he didn’t even have.
It took only a moment for Ragnar’s entire body to convulse, seed shooting out and splashing over her bare breasts.
She squealed again, this time without a mouth full of cock so the noise was bright and clear, better than any music Ragnar had ever heard.
Then her mouth was on him again, and he was more than glad for the edge of the stall, his knees weak.
Ragnar hadn’t expected his world to be so rocked, but it was perhaps the best timing as concurrently the rest of Heck was also quaking with an attack of monstrous creatures climbing out of demonic portals.
Neither Brioni nor Ragnar noticed, nestled into their hollow, and even the veilhounds were too preoccupied covering their ears to have picked up on the frenzy occurring in town.
One would think that kind of incident would have much more heavily impacted their story, but sometimes timelines set themselves up for a joke rather than a satisfying concurrent culmination.
Either way, there were two climaxes that day.
By the time Brioni was lapping at the tip of Ragnar’s cock to clean off the last drop of seed, Heck had been saved. And maybe Ragnar had too.
“Oh, you taste so good,” she said between licks. “Way better than that nasty medicine.”
Ragnar laughed lowly, breath all but lost. He admired the seed painted over the expanse of her breasts as it dripped down to the peaks of her nipples. “You need to be cleaned up,” he mused and tucked himself away.
She sat back on her heels looking so terribly pleased with herself that it was almost a shame to move her, but Ragnar’s desire to touch her again won out.
He scooped hands under her backside and lifted, tossing her over a shoulder as hay rained down from her shins.
Shrieking laughter filled the barn as she kicked her legs, and he wrapped an arm around her thighs and swatted her hind end. “Be still so you don’t fall.”
She wouldn’t fall, of course—he would never allow that to happen—but why pass up the opportunity to see what kind of response that would get? Just like in the forest, she gasped and stilled, and Ragnar knew exactly how he might play with her later.
Grabbing a clean linen from a worktable, he took her out back to the newly fixed faucet.
Sitting himself on the bench and dropping her to stand before him, he trapped her between his thighs as he wet the linen.
Her laughter was dying away, breasts still out and no less sticky, but he caught a sniffle, and then he saw her wipe at her eye.
“Are you crying?” Ragnar sucked in a breath, arm wrapping around her middle and pulling her close.
Her hands landed on his chest, and she shook her head. “No, I don’t do that.”
That was a lie, and a massive one—she had sobbed in the infirmary. But since then and before…nothing.
“My eyes are just watering because that was hard,” she said, swiping away the rest of the evidence. “You’re huge, you know. Bigger than any other one I’ve seen.”
Ragnar wrung out the excess water and brought the linen to her chest. “How many cocks have you seen, Brioni?”
She shrugged, fingers tangling into his tunic. “You expect me to keep count of a thing like that? It doesn’t even matter because yours is my favorite.”
“Good.” Ragnar finished wiping her off then abandoned the linen to neatly tuck her back into her dress.
“You are…” He swallowed the words, not sure exactly what they were: my favorite, my soulbond, mine.
None of them were fair. Not yet. “I’m glad you told me when you weren’t comfortable.
I never want to upset you or really hurt you. I just want to give you—”
Brioni pressed her lips to his.
Ragnar was stunned. He’d offered her nothing, barely sweetness in return for everything she’d given him, and yet she was kissing him. She wasn’t doing it in the needy, forceful way he might have expected, but gently matched up her mouth with his, pressed in for a moment, then leaned back.
Instead, Ragnar was the needy one. He took her by the hips the moment she pulled away and brought her back, mouth open to devour hers. Brioni slid herself up against him, tongues mingling as her warm body melted in his unyielding grip.
Ragnar hadn’t been kissed in…how long? Ever?
No, that wasn’t right, but it certainly felt that way when Brioni’s mouth obliterated the memory of any other on his.
She tasted like him, but she smelled like her own arousal and that other sweet humanness that he hadn’t been able to forget since she’d shown up in the barn that first time and dangled herself in front of him.
When he finally let her up for air, she looked even dizzier than when she’d been on her knees. A bewildered smile creased itself on her round face, and she blinked like she might have fallen over if he wasn’t gripping her waist so tightly.
A howl lit up the air, and Brioni’s eyes went suddenly sharp as she looked out into the forest like she might be able to see the source despite that it sounded so far off. “What’s that?”
“Veilhound,” Ragnar told her. “A wild one. It’s been calling for a while now.”
“Calling?”
Ragnar waited but Kee’cer’uth wasn’t at the barn to answer. “For a pack.”
“It’s all alone?” Now she really looked like she might cry.
“It will be fine,” he said as convincingly as he could.
Brioni nibbled her lip, probably unconvinced, but didn’t argue. Instead she averted her eyes and twisted the tie of his tunic around a finger. “Can I come back tomorrow?” she asked just above a whisper, voice tinged with embarrassment, but then she’d never asked before.
“Yes, of course,” he breathed, already longing for the moment she emerged from the path and skipped back into his life.
But then Ragnar frowned, a new thought unfolding.
If she continued to come to him, was this what she expected?
Was it all she expected? “But later,” he added. “I have a lot to catch up on.”
“That’s all right; I like to watch you work.”
“I said, later,” he insisted. “Evening. At least an hour after you’re finished with deliveries.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders deflated, but he dug his fingers into her sides and gave her a little shake.
“Okay, okay!” She brightened again, and he let go.
“I have a lot to do too, I bet. The cart’s going to weigh a ton.
I’ll need a second Stephan to get it all done.
Oh, poor Stephan, he’s probably so worried.
I hope Kat’s been sneaking him leftovers. ” And with that she hurried off.
Ragnar watched her go, the tickle in his chest more palpable than ever. She deserved so much better than what he was now, and that was what he had to give her.