King Ragnar Imagines

Tight

He didn't like this. But you wanted it.

He didn't like it more when you suggested it be him that was tied in the heavy braiding of rope around his wrists and drifting around his elbows. His arms burned behind his back, almost as badly as when you drew the rope tight around his neck like a choker. Ragnar's wild eyes gazed at the frayed twists– unsure of what the hell he got into listening to your sweet talk.

"Don't even think about it." Ragnar growls out as the rope hit his throat. His breath is swept out of his lungs as you fist the rope around your knuckles, straddling him comfortably. The corner of his lips pull into a slight grin, eyes following as you settle yourself over his bare cock.

"It's easier if you don't fight me, my love." You say straddling his hips. Ragnar drops his head back on the rich furs of his bed, the lips of your cunt sliding against his shaft. He breathed as you glide your hips, using the rope collar to keep his eyes on the sight before him.

"You're trying my patience–" Ragnar hissed, cock twitching. "I gave you what you wanted."

He gave you a force of men. Not solely for the pussy– but god, if he could dig his hips into yours right now, he would have. You knew how long he had waited like a good boy for his treat– which was not yet coming to fruition as your hips slid up against his, grinding his cock. His tip spilled for you– spilling against your labia.

"You did. All for some pussy– didn't you, my king?" Ragnar grunts, hips shifting as he tries for more friction. You pull at the rope at his neck, drawing out his breath as you stop moving. "You'll take what I give you. Just as long as you get something."

Ragnar heaves in his breath, weary as you force him to enjoy it slow– a shift up his cock, rolling your hips in tight circles at the tip. Your hips shifted, leaning back to lead but his tip inside of your cunt while fisting his cock.

"Fuck, give it to me." Ragnar hisses, gasping when your hips press down inch by inch. You swallow him up in your cunt entirely and he lets out a hoarse howl. Your hips glide him out pathetically slow and the king– tired of it, thrashes hips up into you. You let out a gasp of air as he pumps himself hard up, his hips the only thing he can control.

"Odin!" You cry out, pulling the rope tight. Ragnar hisses at the tightness, marks peppering his throat as he moves. You can't bare stop him, seeking out your sweet cunt as best as he could. You didn't care anymore– if only to make him so enraged that you might get this reaction, you bite down and bite along his chest. Each hiss was harder than the last from King Ragnar– until he finally shrilled out his orgasm. His thick spunk hit your clenched walls hard, painting you while your legs shook for your own orgasm. It was purposeful that you held back, knowing that if you didn't cum, the King would go again and again. Ragnar threw back his head, cursing that he let himself go.

"Again." Ragnar growls. And again, you drew the rope tight.