King Ragnar Imagines

The Help II

After Monday's lecture, you felt vengeful. All through the class, you felt the stinging embarrassment of having Ragnar hit on you in front of everyone else. Even if the delivery of such playfulness wasn't inherently sexual.

"Do you remember what the saying is, Miss (Y/N)?" Ragnar strode over to you. You shifted in your lone desk which happened to be like his. He grinned a deep, wide smile as you flushed. Your eyes glared at notes of the spinal cord. Why couldn't he ask you about the damn diaphragm?

"...um. S2, S3, S4... keeps the penis off the floor?" You suggest, your cheeks shifting a million shades of mortified.

"That's the one." He clapped his hands as he walked away from you, laughing playfully like the little shit he was.

Today would be different.

"Is he going to play with you again?" Your friend Ivar said. He always knew how his father treated you— often teasing you about it. You sat on the table beside his laptop, your Anatomy and Physiology book pressed against your chest.

"No because today is going to be different. I'll tease him." You pouted. The clicks of Ivar's fingers across the keys of his laptop stilled.

"You what?" He laughed.

You motioned to your skirt with a flick of your wrist. His eyes flickered against the body tight skirt tight as a little vice over the delicious curve of your ass. But not just tight— short too.

"You little minx." Ivar grinned toothily just as the door to K128 popped open. Ragnar held the door open and others would fill inside the room. You however, waited. You waited until you heard the sharp whistle of Ragnar's lips, staring right at you. For a moment you acted as if you didn't hear him, sliding the straps of your shirt back up your shoulders. You leaned down to whisper something into Ivar's ear, testing his patience

Ragnar faltered. His grip on the door dropped and he would bounce over, making a large crescent like swerve to stand in front of you. "Lets go." He said, grasping your wrist. Your sandals hit the floor and you were forced to follow after, snapping the grip on your wrist.

"Have fun." Ivar teased behind his dark lenses.

Lecture wasn't just going good this time. It was perfect. Ragnar's attention was that of a gnat, rushing through lecture as your legs spread saucily. Then as he looked over, he noticed your fingers peeilng away that sorry excuse for a skirt.

No panties in sight. Fuck him. Ragnar gazed off only moments, having noticed that another student was looking in his direction.

"Ragnar?" Angrboda asked. Your legs slid a little tighter shut, grazing fingers against your lips. At least there was only twelve students in the class. He tugged his already damningly right tie, tilting his head to the side.

"Where were we?" He snaps to attention, holding the remote to flicker the slide of his PowerPoint.

"Sympathetic chain, Professor."

Lab exam was coming up. You easily flew through a lab quiz and as you packed your things up, you felt Ragnar's breath in your ear.

"Come to my office hours."

So you did. Waiting was the best medicine for excitement, welling up juices between your thighs as you waited outside his office. The door leading to the outside cracked open and Ragnar walked in, head bowed as he rattled the keys into its slot. The door would pop open and Ragnar snatched up your wrist, whirling you inside of the room with a slam of the door and lock simultaneously. Quickly you drop your bag by the door

"What did you think you were doing?" Ragnar says, dropping into his plush chair. He brought you down with him, hiking flimsy fabric over the curve of your ass. "Wearing nothing under your skirt— with my son?"

You steadied yourself by setting your hands on his broad shoulders. "You shouldn't have teased me." You huffed.

Ragnar alternated you to his thigh, pressing your hips down onto his charcoal slacks. The rough fabric of his slacks caused friction between your wet cunt and his leg. As you straddled him, Ragnar's hand came down on your ass with a rippling crack. You cried out, jutting your hips on his leg. The sweet juices would smear along his pantleg, surely staining them.

"Hn.I should punish you." Ragnar clicked his tongue. "But it's much better to watch you like this– fucking riding my thigh."

Ragnar led your hips down against him, beginning to roll his leg up against yours. You hesitantly followed the friction, pressing your hips down as he led you to do. You felt awkward and strange, riding his leg knowing this was all a show for him– the pleasure he derived was purely in watching your cunt smear against his leg, gasping when his leg began to shake underneath him. Whether it was of your weight on his, or his own excitement, you wondered. But judging on the hard shaft down his slacks, you quickly found out which. He was enjoying himself. And oh– he was watching this little show.

"Have I been neglecting you, baby girl? Look at you riding me– you'll take anything you can get." Ragnar suggests, sliding your hips down lower so that your aching clit could rub against the rough fabric. His hands grasps at your fleshy ass, forcing you to move harder against him. He increased your rhythm and tempo, gazing upon you with his vivid blue eyes flashing in curious excitement.

"I– a little." You answer, huffing out forced breaths. The mix of frictionto your clit and cunt bubble up, only worsening when Ragnar shifts to slide your breasts out of your bra. You were close– but not quite there. Ragnar grunts in approval for his new display, dropping back to gyrate his thumb in tight, forceful circles against your clit. In a muffled shriek against his lips, you climax against his thigh. He watches pridefully as you ride out your orgasm against his pants.

"A little more than a little." Ragnar leans back into his chair, not minding his ruined slacks as he unbuckles his pants. He pulls his cock free, fisting the shaft. "Such a good girl. Now... ride this."