The kiss deepened, unhurried at first, a slow exploration that mirrored the lazy rhythm of the lake around them. Ragnar's lips moved against hers tenderly, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other traced idle patterns along her spine through the clinging fabric of her shift. Circe sighed into his mouth, her body arching instinctively closer, the cool water doing nothing to temper the warmth blooming low in her belly.
They broke apart, foreheads pressing together as they caught their breath. Ragnar's eyes held hers with an intensity that made her pulse stutter.
"Race me back to shore," he murmured suddenly, a playful challenge threading through his voice. He nodded toward the far end of the pool, where the water became shallower.
Circe raised an eyebrow, though her lips curved in amusement. "Why would I when we both know that you will win?"
She knew how to swim but her skills were lackluster at best, so unlike the graceful way Ragnar's body moved in the water.
