She laughed outloud I can believe that you stubborn viking. She knew very well the trouble he was stitching up and if he had been as stubborn with him as he was with her she knew it was indeed time consuming. She shook her head at him laughter evident on her face and in her eyes. She did not blame Floki for not taking the second in command and did indeed take a noble man t oturn such a think away. I agree with you there.
A maliscious teasing gleam lit up her eyes as she looked back at him with a small chuckle at him she stood up on her hind legs and threw her paws and front limbs over his neck and nipped at his ruff and then his ear with a playful growl in her voice. She was not moving fast and she was not stretching far as she was mindful of the little growing bodies in her womb, but she teased none the less.
Ragnar’s smirk deepened as Thistle laughed out loud at Ragnar’s confession as to what Floki gave as his reason, confirming that she could attest to Floki’s reasons.
A playful growl had resounded - impressively - from somewhere within his wife’s delicate and pregnant body causing Ragnar to glimpse down at her right before she rose upon her hind legs, the feeling of her paws wrapping around his neck accompanied by the feeling of her nip at the scruff of fur along his neck. Her movements were sluggish by the extra weight she was carrying around but that did not stop Ragnar from enjoying Thistle’s rough play.
She continued to nip at him and then she froze when he asked that and glanced at him "That's no even possible is it? She was confused for a moment she knew it wasn't possible then she had to chuckle at herself, I think Ragnar that i will leave the domination positioning to you I find i like it better that way. She lowered her voice lightly teasing him with a slight whispery husky voice. Is that okay with you? She nipped at his shoulder again and then soothed the love bite with her tongue.
Ragnar was reminded, once more of how contrasting they were to one another, that she was fire - warmth and he was ice - winter and blood borne.
Her nips continued until he spoke; Ragnar could almost feel her body freeze at his words and spared a glimpse over his shoulder at her.
Of course he wanted her, he wanted to ravage her, to stake his claim upon her until nothing remained of Crete’s feeble and fading claim upon his wife. But Ragnar doubted, given the progression of her pregnancy that Thistle would let him until well after the babes were born and not so reliant upon her milk. He would wait for her because Odinn desired the continuation of their union and marriage, and because Ragnar wanted to wait for her.
Thistle laughed at him and nipped him gently and said quietly "Oh Ragnar we both know that you will not be any better the second time or third time or any other time around when you get wounded, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. She chuckled to herself again knowing that he may try to be better the next time, but it probably would not happen and in a way she had enjoyed their verbal sparring matches when he was injured. The fur rose across Thistle's back and neck, but not in a bad way. His purr had a strange effect on her and she turned wide blue eyes to him for a moment thinking hard and trying to calm her breathing that had certainly hitched about a ten notches above what was normal.
She looked at him with wide innocent guiless eyes and waited for any continuance of speech on his part. Though she would love for her mate to do whatever he pleased with her she also was in part fearful for she did not know if that could hurt the pups. She wished she knew because she would most definitely give him the permission he sought with one single purr of her name, but she couldn't at the moment for fear that it would hurt her or the little ones so she kept it to herself. However, she did nuzzle his neck softly.
Likely, his wife’s words administered to him with her muzzle close to the fur damp with the heat of her breath where she had most recently left a love bite upon his scruff, Thistle was correct. His words had been meant only to placate. He had never been good at staying still, never took being den ridden with much regality (even in his childhood he had been the first to boldly brave the light, the world outside their birthing den) and that trait would last until the day he drew his dying breath. It seemed the purr he made (of the wolfish equivalent of it, anyhow) had some kind of affect upon his fawn colored shield maiden for her pupils had blown wide within their pools of azure, innocent and wanton all in one confusingly neat little package. Curiosity caused the Viking’s head to lower as Ragnar struggled against the feral urge to grasp her scruff betwixt his teeth and pull her roughly against her in an intimate embrace.
Thistle smiled at him and dipped her head she licked his muzzle when he said he should go. he stirred the embers of her ever burning love with his sweet words even though he probably had no clue why or even what she thought was sweet, but the protectiveness he wore was endearing and she would not have him any other way.
She chuckled softly and dipped her head at him again "Ok Ragnar I think I want a nap anyway. She smiled at him again and stood silently watching his back as he trotted towards the borders with a sigh of frustration for the dull ache that she had incurred from the want of him she ran back towards their den hoping that she could sleep of this hot feeling before she chased after him, like a wanton Jezabelle.