[ Athelstan's other hand was curled into the bedspread beneath them, tightening each time the other's hips rocked into him, each one punctuated with a quiet moan as if he were still trying to hold on to some shred of control and decency. He knows that Ragnar was not like many of the other Vikings, those who took what they wanted without care. ]

I know, Ragnar but I was your slave and you could have to no punishment. [ The fact that Ragnar hadn't meant more to Athelstan because he could have, he would have been well within his rights under his customs.

A small smile touched his lips at the light bight to his thumb, before lowering it over his chin, the roughness of his beard an enjoyable sensation. He liked Ragnar's hardness and roughness far more than he had liked Judith's soft body, the fragility of a proper Christian woman.

His eyes closed, focusing on the soft comfort of the other's fingers in his hair once more. He found he liked that gesture, there was warmth and affection in it that was difficult to ignore. ]

Many men lose interest in things once they conquer them, Ragnar.