“Kaley told you that?”
Jillian nodded. “Please,” she breathed. “Show me what she meant.”
Grimm expelled a fascinated breath. His Jillian had no fear. He gently slipped the head of his shaft inside her and eased her down, gauging her every flicker of emotion.
Her eyes flared. Her hand flew down to curl around his shaft. “Big,” she said worriedly. “Really big. Are you certain this works?”
A grin of pure delight curved his lip. “Very big,” he agreed. “But just right to pleasure a woman.” He slipped into her carefully. When he met the resistance of the barrier, he paused. Jillian panted softly. “Now, Grimm. Do it.”
He closed his eyes briefly and cupped his hands on her bottom, positioning her above him. When he opened his eyes, resolve glimmered in their depths. With one firm thrust he pierced the barrier.
Jillian gasped. “That wasn’t so bad,” she breathed after a moment. “I thought it would really hurt.” When he began to move slowly, her eyes flared. “Oh!”
She cried out, and he silenced her with a kiss. Moving slowly, he rocked her against him until any trace of pain in her wide eyes disappeared and her face was illuminated by the anticipation of what she sensed was dancing just out of her reach. She initiated an erotic, circular movement with her hips, nipping her lower lip between her teeth.
He watched her, entranced by her innate sensuality. She was abandoned, uninhibited, plunging wholly into their intimate play without reservation. Her lips curved deliciously as a long slow thrust of his hips hinted at the passion to come, and he smiled with wicked delight.
He raised her up and switched places with her, placing her on the chair. Kneeling, he pulled her forward, wrapped her legs around his waist, and slid deep within her, pressing with exquisite friction against the mysterious place deep inside her that would cast her over the edge. He teased the nub between her legs until she squirmed against him, begging with her body for what only he could give her.
The Berserker exulted within him, frolicking in a way he had never thought possible.
When she cried out and shuddered against him, Grimm Roderick made a husky, rich sound that was more than laughter; it was the resonant knell of liberation. His triumph quickly became a groan of release. The sensation of her body shuddering around him so tightly was more than he could resist, and he exploded inside her.
Jillian clung to him, gasping as an unfamiliar sound penetrated her reeling mind. Her muscles fused to molten uselessness, her head fell forward, and she peered through her hair at the nude warrior-man kneeling before her. “Y-you can laugh! Really, truly laugh!” she exclaimed breathlessly.
He traced his thumbs up the inside of her thighs, over the light skein of blood. Blood of her virginity marked her pale thighs. “Jillian, I … I … oh …”
“Don’t freeze up on me, Grimm Roderick,” Jillian said instantly.
He began shaking violently. “I can’t help it,” he said tightly, knowing they weren’t talking about the same thing at all. “The Greathall,” he muttered. “I am such an ass. I am so damned—”
“Stop it!” Jillian grabbed his head with both hands, leveling him with a furious look. “I wanted this,” she said intensely. “I waited for this, I needed this. Don’t you dare regret it! I don’t, and I never will.”
Grimm froze, transfixed by the blood that marked her thighs, waiting for the sensation of lost time to begin. It wouldn’t be long before the darkness claimed him and the violence ensued.
But moments ticked by, and it didn’t happen. Despite the raging energy that flooded his body, the madness never came.
He gazed at her, dumbfounded. The beast within him was fully awakened, yet tame. How could that be? No bloodlust, no need for violence, all the good things the Berserker brought—and none of the danger.
“Jillian,” he breathed reverently.
CHAPTER 17
“HOW ARE YOU FEELING?” GRIMM ASKED QUIETLY. Punching the pillows, he maneuvered Quinn to a sitting position. The window fittings were tied loosely back, swags framed the casements, and the crescent moon cast enough light that his heightened vision allowed him to function as if it were broad daylight.
Quinn blinked groggily at Grimm and peered through the gloom. “Please don’t.” He groaned when Grimm reached for a cloth.
Grimm stopped in mid-reach. “Doona what? I was merely going to wipe your brow.”
“Don’t smother me with any more of that blasted mandrake,” Quinn muttered. “Half the reason I feel so lousy is because Kaley keeps knocking me out.”