Chapter 20 A Heck of a Mess
A Heck of a Mess
Brioni
Brioni shushed Ragnar as she tugged him through the side door of the post. He was probably asking what they were doing, but it was obvious, wasn’t it?
She'd been pretending to trip over imaginary rocks all along the lowly lit streets on the way back from the apothecary just so she could rub up against him. Of the very few demons still out, no one gave them a second look in the darker dark, and Ragnar had relaxed enough to give her a long kiss at the door. Certainly, he didn’t expect her to let things end there.
The hallway to her bedchamber never felt narrow until Brioni had a giant demon to tow along.
Ragnar triggered a squeaky floorboard, and she stifled a giggle as she picked up the pace.
Kat’s room was at the hall’s other end, but the other woman had probably fallen asleep hours ago, and the two empty chambers in the hall’s middle would hopefully be a good buffer.
Alamar stayed upstairs, but Brioni had been caught sneaking into the mail portal room her first week to poke at the runes, so she couldn’t be sure what the postmaster heard and didn’t hear.
They reached Brioni’s room without interruption, though, and she pushed Ragnar ahead, heart fluttering as she followed into the pale violet light.
“It’s a mess in here,” the demon said in a hushed rumble as she closed the two inside her chamber.
Brioni bit down on her lip to keep from exploding into a fit of laughter—of course that was the first thing he noticed, though the scattered clothes and unmade bed were hard to miss under the glowing lanterns.
“Oh, no,” she whispered in mock shock as she tossed her satchel on the floor. “I’m probably not allowed to sneak boys in here either.”
Ragnar turned, and she pressed her back to the door, tipping her head up and batting her lashes.
It was rarely difficult for Brioni to play at being naive, but her desire to climb him like a garden wall was battling for dominance with that little voice that told her to play coy so she could get exactly what she wanted.
Ragnar’s tunic was still laced up, but a strand of black hair had fallen from his neat braid, framing the stern look he was giving her. “I’m not a boy,” he said, shined-up horns glimmering as they caught the light.
She grinned. “I bet there are rules about demons too.”
“Rules you’re impatient to break.” His hand cupped her chin, thick fingers gently pressing in and holding her still.
“Only if you’ll help me,” she whispered, and their lips met. The heat of his mouth stole her breath, and she bit at him as she pushed up onto her toes, desperate to be as close as possible.
“I can’t stay,” he murmured, pulling back only far enough to speak.
“Not even for a little bit?” She nuzzled her nose to his. “No one will know.”
“I think everyone will know if I do what I want to do to you.” The sharpness of a fang glanced off her lip.
Well, she definitely wasn’t letting him leave now.
Brioni pressed her palms to the door to stay upright under a wave of giddy lightheadedness. “What do you want to do to me?”
“Punish you.” Ragnar’s touch changed, his hand sliding behind her neck as the other slipped under the hem of her skirt.
Fingers traced up her thigh, and her whole body shivered.
“For the state of this chamber, for sneaking me in, and don’t think I’ve forgotten your naughty confession about running from me.
” His touch roved up between her legs, and she jolted at the sudden sensation of being stroked, but there was nowhere to go—Ragnar’s grip on the back of her neck was inflexible and his body pinned her front to the door, mouth hovering just above hers.
“This doesn’t feel like punishment.” She heard the dare in her voice despite enjoying the slow circles he drew just north of her favorite place.
His touch was lighter than in the tub, her undergarments in the way and her legs unable to spread, but she still did her best to push her hips forward into his caress.
“Well, I’d like to bend you over and turn your ass so red you can’t sit for a week,” he purred, and thank the gods he was holding her up because her knees buckled. “But that would be too loud, so I might have to improvise.”
Brioni nodded, words of imploring agreement lost as she found his lips and kissed him again, harried and rough like how she hoped he would be with her.
She wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with her, but the promise of being tormented and so totally at his mercy made her wild, and she instinctively pulled the ties on her clothing so he could have access to do whatever he pleased to any part of her he liked.
Her belt fell to the floor, and she shrugged out of her dress, scrambling to escape the fabric.
Her wrists were caught, arms pinned to the door as Ragnar pulled away from her mouth.
Following the dress as it fell around her feet, his gaze swept slowly to the floor.
Brioni knew she was attractive, but she hadn’t expected the ravenous look that painted itself over Ragnar’s face as he took her in.
Fangs flashed as he dragged in a heaving breath, and his tail thrashed through the air.
She’d picked out her favorite underthings in anticipation of visiting the barn, silky fabric that had been dyed a soft pink and was rouched along the edges.
It didn’t contain everything as well as underwear was probably meant to, but Ragnar seemed to appreciate the overflowing swell of her breasts and the roundness of her hips bursting from the strappy bands.
Her wrists were released, and Brioni wobbled, but Ragnar held up a clawed finger as if to say, Stay put. He took a few steps backward, eyes dancing over her body, everything about him rigid except the thick expanse of his tail still flicking like a beast prepared to pounce.
She squeezed her thighs together and squirmed under his gaze, fingers flexing beside her head, arms remaining right where he left them. He didn’t have to say a word, he just needed to keep looking at her like he would gobble her up if she dared move, and she would stay. For now.
Ragnar took a seat on the edge of her bed, knees wide, eyes still pinning her to the door.
She didn’t have to search for the bulge in his pants, the shadows cast by the lantern light more than telling.
She salivated at the thought of being ordered to her knees at his feet, but she hoped she might feel him inside not just her mouth this time.
Finally, Ragnar crooked a finger, and Brioni sprinted across the small expanse of the chamber.
He caught her before she could tackle him and spun her, pulling her back up against his chest. Instead of screeching, she just sucked in a quick breath because of course she could be quiet when she needed to—she wasn’t going to risk ruining whatever he was about to do no matter what it was.
“You’re too eager,” he said as his boot nudged between her feet and his grip on her hips tightened.
“You need to be taught patience.” Ragnar lifted her as he slid a knee between her legs, and soon she was straddling his thigh with the warmth of his chest expanding against her back.
Exposed to the darkness of the bedchamber, cool air drifted over the place heat had been building all night, and she shivered.
Ragnar ran a hand along the side of her face, brushing her hair away from the ear closest to him.
He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and then another on her jaw, and finally on her neck, his fangs skimming her flesh.
Oh, now that was nice. Sweet even. Too sweet, maybe, because it made Brioni’s eyelids drift down and her whole body relax.
It wasn’t the rough, punitive touch she expected and craved, but it lit up something deeper within her, something that blotted out the rest of the world and let her float there in the feel of carefully worshipping lips.
She didn’t know lips could do that, not without words, but Ragnar’s were so deft she would have sworn he’d spent a lifetime practicing.
“You have to be quiet,” his voice rumbled against the ticklish skin just under her ear.
Whatever noise she made had been entirely habitual—she couldn’t even recall it—but she clamped her mouth shut and opened her eyes once again.
She’d much rather stare at him than the bedchamber door, but touching Ragnar would do, so she groped between his legs to find the trapped length she was aching to take.
He let her rub as he cupped both of her breasts and continued to cover her neck in kisses.
Soft, satiny material dragged over her beaded nipples, and she arched into his touch, a moan following after.
“What did I just say?”
“You said I have to be quiet,” she whispered, but then he made it impossible by sliding a hand down her stomach to land between her legs.
With her knees apart, Brioni could finally receive the touch she’d been coveting when pressed against the door, except that Ragnar’s teasing was still too light, and she still wasn’t completely naked.
She chased his hand with her hips, and his laughter vibrated up against her back as he trailed his fingers away to rake them over the inside of her thigh.
“Ragnar,” she whined, still pawing at his length.
“You don’t want to be patient?” He traced back to her center and slipped under the fabric to seek out her point of pleasure and give it an unforgiving pinch.
Brioni bit her lip, body jerking as she dragged her knees together.
“Ah ah,” Ragnar chided. “I want you spread for me.” He hastened to put her back in place, opening her knees wide over his muscular thigh. He folded her arms behind her back next, caught against his chest. “When I put you in a position I like, I expect you to stay there.”
The snugness of his hold made Brioni’s body happy to comply, but something else—something wicked—wanted to fight. Just a little. Just to see what would happen.