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| Whether it was because he was the Jarl or because he was an assertive man he had no intentions of asking permission on who would get pregnant by him first. He was not very expert when it came to female heat cycles beyond knowing that they drove him absolutely mad but he fairly sure that he would have to wait until at least March of next year until Thistle went into heat because she had had children and he kind of like the idea of having winter pups and summer pups. It would give him time to spend with the newborns while not neglecting his other children as well for they would be old enough to realize that newborns needed a good bit of attention. He couldn't help but think that if he'd taken her when she was in heat and begging him too she'd be round with his children by now. Soon.
Ragnar held still when Nerian moved and stood, the feeling of her side moving along his causing the scarred Scandinavian to let out a soft noise of content. He wanted to feel more of her than just her side, though. He desired more intimacy than that, his body beginning to burn slowly with the fires of desire. Yet, Ragnar had to remind himself that she had sworn an oath of celibacy previous and that her first time deserved to be everything his words had promised. Ragnar considered how experienced he was at it and felt with no small measure of confidence that he would be able to deliver on that promise to her. The Jarl let out a short gasp of breath when he felt Nerian lick and nibble at the junction of where his tail met his body, his weight shifted as the fire raced from his stomach further south. Dirtied claws dug into the soft, pliable earth under paw, raking against it with no amount of gentleness as she slid the length of his body on his left side then, her head pressing against his neck.
His Priestess Wife's kisses were tentative and yet Ragnar did not miss the loving undertone of them upon his jaw and lips in her hesitancy. He was trying to be patient, trying to let her discover him at her own pace, understanding that this was new to her and probably forbidden. Or perhaps becoming his wife threw everything previously forbidden out of the window? He did not know how her God worked despite how she reminded him often. Nothing was forbidden to him by his Gods. Her kisses were fleeting against him but relentless in their ministrations and it was with great effort that Ragnar moved his head at her soft moan and whisper, his patience waning at the small noise and in his desire to prove that there was nothing more real than him at that moment. "Let me show you how a real man worships a woman," The only thing he had spoken up to that point and the last words he thought would be necessary. He planted a small series of kisses on her jaw, down her throat, nipping softly, gently at the damp fur there before he circled her, being sure that his body never left contact with hers until he was standing behind her, nipping gently at her spine, and then her thigh as he stared at her, admiring the strong yet delicate curve of her spine with desire and need. Restraining himself, he waited for her. |