Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides #8) - Lee Savino Page 0,26

in a voice made guttural by sleep. So I didn’t. I stroked the painted skin stretched over his collarbone, and traced the ridges between his muscles. The lower my hand got, the more rapidly his chest rose and fell. His hips shifted and I withdrew, returning to touch his face. He closed his eyes as I brushed my fingertips over his eyebrows. When he opened them, I blinked against the flash of gold.

“Juliet,” he growled and shifted closer. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I was seconds away from being pulled under him and ravaged.

I smiled and rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. He caught the tip of my finger in his teeth. The nip sent a jolt to my core.

I was close enough to feel his hot breath on my face. “Why did your mother name you ‘Jarl’?”

He tugged my hand down between us. I felt the rough trail of coarse hair leading from the middle of his chest down, down. I flattened my palm over the hard muscles in his abdomen. He spread his hand over mine, trapping it. “She wanted me to become one.”

“Become a jarl?”

“Yes.” He laced his fingers over mine. Slowly, he started to drag both our hands lower.

He was telling me something important. I better find out what before our hands reached the intended destination.

I licked my lips and his eyes dropped to my mouth. “Why?”

“Because the Jarl was my father. But my mother was a slave.”

I sucked in a breath and let Jarl coax our hands another inch lower. “What happened?”

“The Jarl didn’t believe I was his son. Or he didn’t care.” He leaned forward suddenly, so his lips were at my ear. “But it didn’t matter because I grew up strong. My mother protected me. She raised me well. Many times she sacrificed her own food to see I didn’t starve. And I grew into a man, bigger and more powerful than my father would ever be.”

My hand rested in the taut hollow above his hips. His skin was hot as if a fire burned in his chest. His breath came in gusts and his muscles were hard as stone. But he was still, as if frozen.

I drew my head back so I could look him in the eye. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” Regret colored Jarl’s growl. “My half brother, his true son did. But I fought for my rightful position, and gained it. For my mother and myself. You see, Juliet.” His fingers closed around my wrist. “This world belongs to the ones who are strong enough to take it. That is how it is. That is how it always will be.” And he pushed my hand down until his thick cock throbbed against my palm. Coarse hair scored my skin. I gulped, but Jarl did not force me further. He held still and waited.

“You think to take what you want?” I raised a brow.

He nodded, but his eyes were wide. I raised my chin and moved the barest inch to kiss his lips. “No.” I smiled at him and curled my fingers around his stiff length. “You cannot take what is given freely.” I leaned back then, enough to see what I was doing and marvel at this huge warrior quivering in the palm of my hand. My own body quickened as I slid my fingers over him, exploring the veins winding around his shaft, the flared head and slit leaking fluid like drops of dew. I freed my other hand so I could better grip him. My fingers wouldn’t reach the whole way around. My thumb played with the tip and came away wet. Without thinking, I raised my thumb to my mouth and sucked it clean.

Jarl’s entire body jerked. “Juliet,” he groaned and claimed my mouth. His kiss seared through me. I surged against him, pressing my aching breasts against his chest, writhing to stimulate them.

“Show me,” I begged, breathless. “Show me what pleases you.”

He rolled me to my back and rose up over me, his cock in hand. As I watched he slowly slid the sheath of his grip up and down until his cock jerked. I sat up and touched the weeping tip, fascinated. I cupped my right hand over his and let my arm move with his.

“Now you.” He took his hand away and molded mine over his turgid rod. My hand looked small and pale in comparison. As I slid my fingers up and down, the monster swelled larger. I