Chapter 437-He Said Dirty Things In My Ear

Verity:

"It’s one thing to be all grumpy and powerful, walking around with all those muscles."

When I came around to face him again, I stopped close enough to look straight into his eyes.

"But do you actually have what it takes to be rough?" I whispered, lifting my chin in challenge.

I genuinely thought that would be enough.

Surely, this time, he’d back down.

But instead, his hand suddenly closed around the back of my neck, and before I could register what was happening, he had turned me around and pressed my back against the wall.

The movement was firm and startling, but it didn’t hurt. There was something almost playfully wicked about the way he handled me.

He leaned closer, his enormous frame towering over mine, before catching my wrist and lifting my arm above my head, pinning it against the wall.

My heartbeat immediately lost its rhythm.

He was so close that I could barely think straight.

Then his grip shifted. His fingers loosened around my wrist and slowly traveled along my hand until they slipped between mine, intertwining our fingers.

He tightened his hold, pressing my hand against the wall until my knuckles gave a faint crack beneath the pressure.

"The question, Verity," he murmured against my ear, his voice dropping into a dangerously husky whisper, "is whether you can handle rough."

I felt the warm brush of his tongue against my ear, and whatever confidence I’d managed to summon nearly deserted me.

Oh, fuck.

I think I’d taken this too far.

Far too fucking far.

My knees threatened to give out, but I somehow managed to keep myself standing.

"What happened, Verity?" he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. "I thought you wanted rough."

The way he spoke made my stomach tighten.

"Say you want it," he continued softly.

And somehow, I knew that the moment I said those words, there would be no pretending this was just another argument.

Because if I told him I wanted it, I’d be admitting that I really did.

And I didn’t think he would stop.

"Because I’m ready. I can be your worst nightmare, Verity. The kind that brings pleasure with pain, the kind you’ll crave so badly that you won’t be able to get through a single night without it," he continued whispering, bringing his face even closer to mine.

I felt his fingers loosen around my neck, only for them to begin stroking the sensitive skin in slow, gentle movements.

My head tilted back, and my eyelids started to flutter shut.

"I won’t show you any mercy on your pussy. You’ll be screaming for me to stop, but I won’t."

Hearing words like that from Ragnar’s mouth was a first for me.

Heat spread across my skin.

Seriously? Ragnar?

I’d never imagined him saying anything remotely like that, and somehow, those words sounded so fucking sexy coming from him that a tingling sensation began spreading between my legs.

He moved even closer, and I felt his knee slowly sliding upward between my thighs.

I had no idea how far he intended to take this, but I was almost afraid to swallow, worried that the slightest movement might remind him to stop.

And somehow, I didn’t want him to.

"I—I umm—" I murmured.

His nose brushed against my cheek, making me painfully aware of how close his lips were to my skin.

The hand resting against my neck shifted to cup my jaw, his thumb tracing its curve before his fingers traveled downward.

His palm moved across my chest, slipping beneath the loose fabric draped over my pink bra.

Without hesitation, he slid his hand beneath the side of my bra, near my underarm.

I felt his palm against the side of my breast, and the realization that he was cupping it made my breath catch.

Nothing but shaky breaths escaped my parted lips.

"Say it," he whispered.

"You..." I stammered, trembling so badly that I could barely get the words out. "You have a girlfriend."

My voice sounded embarrassingly breathless.

"Gigi... Gigi would be upset."

What the hell was happening to me?

Why couldn’t I string together a proper sentence? Why did I keep repeating myself like some malfunctioning idiot?

I’d genuinely thought that reminding him of Gigi would make him pull away.

I mean, mentioning her seemed like the safest way to bring him back to his senses.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

"Screw her. Screw the world. Say it."

He emphasized each word, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Maybe I should just say it, I thought.

But was I actually ready to let things go that far?

Would he really take this beyond our ridiculous little argument, or was it all some elaborate test?

What if he suddenly stepped away and laughed at me for losing my composure so completely?

Worse, what if he was testing my loyalty to his brothers?

What if that was the whole point?

The possibilities kept circling through my head, making it impossible to think straight.

Then his knee pressed between my thighs, and for one terrifying moment, I genuinely thought my heart might stop.

My body wanted him.

I’d never wanted anything quite this badly before, and the realization frightened me almost as much as the thought of what might happen next.

I hadn’t even managed to finish speaking when a sudden scream from outside shattered the tension between us.

"Saved by a distress call, huh?" Ragnar whispered before slowly releasing my arm.

His other hand, which had been gripping the side of my breast firmly, finally loosened its hold.

He dragged his palm across my chest with one last heavy stroke before withdrawing it completely.

Only then did he pull his face away from my cheek and begin to step back, his eyes never leaving mine.

He bent down to retrieve his shirt from the floor, maintaining that unwavering eye contact even as he slipped it on.

Then, as though he’d finally had enough, he rolled his eyes, turned around, and walked straight out through the front door.

Not even the door connecting our rooms through the living area.

I had no idea what the hell had just happened, but seeing Ragnar behave so boldly, so openly, was honestly terrifying.

He didn’t even seem remotely concerned about someone noticing him leaving my hut instead of his own.