Ragnar's return.

[thewidewideworld]

Their rooms are as Ragnar found them - clean but recently slept in, to the point that Athelstan's robe still hangs on the back of a chair.

Sinric is quick to tidy it, straightening the bed and hanging thing back where they belong with a servant's practiced hand.

"Let me run a bath for us." He smiles, brushing his hair back into a loose braid.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric cries out into the kiss, more pleasure than panic. He strokes Ragnar's broad thighs, spreading his own knees as far as he can within the embracing bracket of Ragnar.

His nipples turn hard as diamond under Ragnar's ministrations, the swell of his breasts aching with need.

He doesn't press back against the swell of Ragnar's prick, not yet. Still needed a little coaxing past a fear that has lingered in him for some years now.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar's hands cup and massage Sinric's whole breasts, gently and firmly at the same time, the thumb flitting over the erect nipples.

He keeps kissing Sinric, warm and lovingly, as he is wrapped around the slighter, pliant body from behind.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moans into the kiss, pressing his knees against the inside of Ragnar's thighs.

The heat of Ragnar, the clean smell of him, the feel of his muscles, the love in his kiss - all of these contribute to ease the tention out of his thoughts and he presses back a little against Ragnar's prick, letting it slips between his creamy buttocks.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar moans a little at the minute friction, and pulls Sinric backwards, to feel more skin on skin while he's kissing and stroking him.

"Sinric," he murmurs.

[thewidewideworld]

The act of drawing him closer makes Sinric gasp, sending a spike of tension through him. He rests a hand over Ragnar's, needing a moment to catch his breath and settle his suddenly racing heart.

"Ragnar." He whispers, holding his forehead against Ragnar's, his dark eyes wide.

It's only a moment before he can master himself; need overriding his baseless fears. He lifts himself a little and pushes back to press the head of Ragnar's prick against his opening. "I need you in me, Ragnar, beloved." He pants.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar reaches out to take some bottle of bath oil from the rim of the tub, and puts some onto his right hand; with that, he reaches between them to make sure Sinric is open and ready, and he himself is slick and smooth to slide in without a hitch.

That done, he puts his hands on Sinric's hips, kisses him again deeply, and slides inside, smoothly, all the way.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric is... well, tight. Surprisingly tight. Between weeks now without this and the tention thrumming through him, he's as tight around Ragnar as a vice.

He whimpers into the kiss, shaking a little but not pulling away as Ragnar enters him. His breath comes in ragged pants, hot and sweet against Ragnar's lips.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar slows his thrust, and as he keeps sliding into the tight opening, moaning a little as the friction intensifies.

His hands slide around to stroke Sinric's hips and lower stomach.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric pushes back to meet his slow thrusts, his voice soft and rough as he whispers Ragnar's name over and over like a charm, keeping himself in the here and now.

He pulls Ragnar's arms around him, needing his strong lover to hold him, make him safe even from himself as he takes Ragnt to the hilt.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar holds him close, kissing soft pale skin as he thrusts, slowly and deeply, angling himself to reach the sweet spot inside Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gasps and shifts a little, just enough to change the angle of Ragnar's thrusts. As good as the sweet spot feels, he isn't ready for that. Not yet. He knows Ragnar can make him orgasm, as so few can but just yet, it would be too much.

He reaches back, cupping the back of Ragnar's head and hoping he understands.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

He does -- by now, he understands that Sinric uses sex for quite a number of expressions and purposes, and doesn't always want to feel orgasms, and that it's no fault of his when Sinric doesn't want one. He wants something else.

Right now, he seems to want both strong thrusts and gentle touch, and Ragnar gives no those.

Who is he to say what Sinric ought to want?

[thewidewideworld]

There's gratitude in the warm, rich sound of Sinric's moan, expressing a love and thanks he could barely have put words to was he not currently breathless with pleasure.

His lithe little body presses back against Ragnar's, moving with him and taking such joy in the feeling of strength and trust. He hasn't been take like this since the attack and Ragnar is putting those feelings out of his memories perfectly.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar's hand wanspder up towards Sinric's breasts again -- by now, it's very clear that they're what Sinric ,ost likes having touched.

And he speeds up his thrusts.

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes!" Sinric breathes, arching his chest to press into Ragnar's big hands. "Oh Ragnar!" His little snail fills slowly, a sign of both his bodily pleasure and the contentment of his spirit in this.

He pushes back, clinching his body to the rhythm of Ragnar's thrusts, wanting to give him the most pleasure it this also.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

At that first tightening, Ragnar gives a pleased and surprised moan; but he keeps going, hands on Sinric's breasts, fingers teasing his hard nipples.

[thewidewideworld]

He clenches tighter still as Ragnar's attention to his breasts sends a jolt of pleasure through him. He moans Ragnar's name, one hand tangled in Ragnar's hair, the other gripping Ragnar's broad thigh for support as Ragnar's powerful thrusts rock him to the core.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar thrusts, groaning with pleasure, and presses into Sinric's touch.

[thewidewideworld]

He shifts his weight a little now so Ragnar's thrusts find that place within him that causes his heart to race. He's still not ready to fall to pleasure but he does want to feel it, even as he knows Ragnar is nearing his own. The feeling causes him to cry out brightly, only not falling forwards to his hand because of Ragnar's grip on him.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar holds him close, thrusting strongly and murmuring encouragement and love, disjointed in his pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Every thrust brings a cry to his lips now. Sometimes Ragnar's name, sometimes words of joy and pleasured curses. And just once, Athelstan's name. For he is part of their joy too, even in his absence.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

That name is answered with a little sob, and stronger thrusts.

Yes, he's always part of them.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric feels a sudden pang of regret that he has taken advantage of Ragnar for his own needs and desires tonight when it is so clear Ragnar is pining for his lover. He pushes back into Ragnar's thrusts, wanting to give him pleasure before he can bring him comfort too.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Oh, Ragnar is quite happy to do that -- he does love Sinric very much, as well, if differently.

"Oh yes, yes!" he gasps, almost there.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric tighten and moans, willing Ragnar's joy over the edge with his whole body.