Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides #8) - Lee Savino Page 0,25

they cramped.

“Easy.” Fenrir stroked lightly inside me. “You don’t have to fight for it. Just breathe and take what I give you.” He withdrew his fingers and rose up again so he could grind the heel of his hand against my sopping center. Little sparks of sensation flew up, igniting a firestorm. My spine bowed as pleasure coiled tight, past the breaking point. My legs started to shake uncontrollably.

Fenrir was still watching me closely. “That’s it. Surrender.”

My own cries filled my ears and pleasure washed outwards. All the pain I’d felt was swallowed up in the maelstrom. I was tossed and tumbled, helpless in the storm of sensation. My climax shook me in its grip.

Fenrir pressed down on my sex, grounding me.

“My turn,” Jarl growled. I barely sensed Fenrir shifting out of the way before I felt Jarl stretched over me. He pinned my wrists the same way Fenrir had. Dropping his knee, he pressed it against my still pulsing center. He rocked slowly over me. I blinked as sparks rose behind my eyes. And as my climax broke over me again, Jarl set his teeth against my neck and scraped them over my pulse, pushing me ever higher.

7

Juliet

I barely remembered the rest of the night. The warriors worked over me, wrung me out with as much pleasure as they’d given me pain. Climax after climax crashed over me. I came so many times, I teetered on the edge of pain again, and begged them to stop.

“One more,” Fenrir insisted. Jarl held me down and I screamed myself hoarse and Fenrir pulled another round of pleasure from my cunny with his lips and tongue. My orgasm swelled over me, a giant wave rising and rising until it was too large to hold back. It broke over me and I lost my grip on myself. I felt nothing, saw nothing, knew nothing but oblivion.

I barely roused when they washed me clean with a cloth dipped in heated water. I caught only a few glimpses of my reddened skin before my eyelids were too heavy to prop open. Fenrir rolled my limp body in a fur. The warriors lay down on either side of me and took turns stroking my hair and I surrendered to sleep.

I woke to weak light across my face. The sun was high enough to delve through the cracks in the makeshift door. I’d slept through the night and into the day beyond.

Jarl and Fenrir slumbered next to me. I was still curled between them, though the fur had slipped down. We were all naked, but I did not fret. I now wanted to share my nakedness with these men.

Slowly I rose and slipped out of bed, throwing a fur around my shoulders to keep off the chill. The fire had been built up and fresh wood stacked beside it, the warriors taking care to keep the lodge warm. They’d let me sleep.

Barefoot, I hastened to drink a little water and relieve myself. At first my limbs were wobbly and felt wrung out, but after a moment I found new strength. My legs and breasts bore disappointingly few marks. Even my buttocks were barely bruised. My cunny had borne the most punishment. It was pink and puffy, but even as I inspected it, it throbbed in anticipation for more.

The biggest difference was on the inside. My chest was light, my head high. The weight I’d carried was gone. The pain had scoured my insides clean.

I washed my face and shook out my hair.

The cold bit at my backside until I wriggled back into bed. The warriors gave no sign that they’d woken. I’d never known them to slumber so deeply. Were they as affected by our night together as I had been?

In sleep, they seemed less intimidating. I rolled to face Fenrir. A few strands of his hair had caught in his beard and I brushed it back. Fenrir’s long lashes fluttered but he remained still, a slumbering mountain.

Jarl let out an uneasy grumble and I shifted to face him. His brow was creased so I stroked it gently. The wrinkles smoothed under the pads of my fingertips.

Emboldened, I did what I’d always wanted to do. I traced the dark outline of his tattoos, following the lines with my finger. On the first pass his eyes slitted open, but he didn’t stop me.

I examined the swirls down his forearm, then switched to his chest. A rumble under my palm made me snatch my hand back.

“Don’t stop,” Jarl said