The tension coiled tight in her belly, a sweet, agonizing pressure that built with every flick of his tongue, every suction of his lips. It wound tighter and tighter until she was sobbing his name, her hips bucking off the mattress in a desperate rhythm.
When it finally snapped, the world fractured into brilliant white shards. Circe cried out, a gasping sound that was swallowed by the heavy velvet curtains of the room. The pleasure was like a physical blow, radiating outward from where he devoured her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air, her fingers clutching his hair so tightly she feared she might hurt him.
Ragnar didn't stop, not immediately. He stayed with her through the aftershocks, soothing the sensitive flesh with broad, flat licks until her whimpers turned into ragged, shallow breaths.
