[His hips slow a bit, as he takes a moment to think about what to give him to do. Getting scratches would be nice, but feels out of place in a slow fuck like this... but hell, it might get some of Athelstan's frustration out.]

Dig your nails into my back, and run them down toward my hips. Hard. [He mutters the command against Athelstan's lips.] Or put them in my hair. Your choice.

[Ragnar likes both of those things, so they seem like good habits to start with him in any case.

And he knows he shouldn't be talking, but he adds:] You doing alright?