Insolent: The Moray Druids #1 (Highland Historical) Read Online Free Page B

warmth until he lost himself. He craved both acceptance and release. And here was the woman who would grant him a taste of that, if only for a night.  
    Mine.
    Bael’s beast growled a claim so strong, a dawning stroke of need and elation lanced through him, followed by a crippling wave of lust and possession.
    No , Bael thought. Things were different here in Valhalla. He wouldn’t have to worry about mating.
    The woman’s song died on a gasp, and she blindly turned toward him, the tips of her full, luxuriant breasts covered by wet and heavy hair.
    He’d never been driven to his knees by any living soul, no matter how hard they tried, but the eruption of frenzy those full breasts released nearly buckled his legs from beneath him.
    Staggering forward, Bael splashed into the stream, yanked her up from where she knelt, and stole the protest from her mouth by sealing it with his own. She tensed against him at first, but then melted with a sound of surrender. Her body was cool and damp from the stream against his heated flesh. She felt good. Invigorating. Her lips seemed soft and familiar, as though he’d kissed them before, sampled their sweetness, and reveled in their pliant warmth.
    It had been decades since he’d felt the touch of another. Fifty years since a woman had pressed herself against him as she did now. Bael had almost forgotten what a woman felt like, but he knew without a doubt that no other woman he’d ever touched came close to the sensual perfection of the one in his arms.
    The scent of her, ripe fruits and spices, frayed the edges of his sanity.
    With a moan, equal parts pleasure and torture, Bael ran his hands down the dramatic slope of her back as it dipped into a narrow waist and flared into an ass that overflowed his kneading palms. Gods, she couldn’t be any more perfect than this. He cared little to feel bones beneath a woman’s flesh. He wanted substance and softness. To fill his big hands and feast his eyes on every inch. He much preferred the luscious shape of her body to the hard, muscled shield maidens of the north, or the skin-and-bone whores his men paid for.
    The way her flesh slid along his as she drew her hands up his arms and across the span of his shoulders to twine about his neck, unstitched the last fibers of his self-control. Digging his fingers into her ass, he hefted her against him and split her legs to wrap around his trunk.
    Bael even liked the way she gasped in shock and clung to him with her arms and knees as though his actions surprised her.
    Yes . Her long legs would be wrapped around parts of him until morning dawned in Valhalla. His waist. His head. Bael planned to feast on her flesh and her sex. To feed her his own. To take pleasure in the sweetness of her voice as she came for him and spill his release inside her again and again.
    Gods, it had been so long. A lifetime.
    Carrying her to the soft mossy bank without separating their fused mouths, he lowered them both to the ground and covered her body with his.
    Tonight was his gift from the Gods, and after a century of sacrifice and denial, he was going to take full advantage of his reward.
    ***
    Morgana had felt the Berserker awaken, could sense him even in darkness. But she’d been unaware that he’d moved until he’d snatched her from her bath and lay claim to her mouth.
    Now she lay beneath this fiercely masculine creature, his pulsating erection hot and hard against her belly, her knees clutching at his flanks as though inviting him inside her.
    She was aware of the danger of their precarious position, but couldn’t seem to tear her mouth away from those magical lips of his. It wasn’t their contrast to the unmitigated hardness of the rest of him, nor was it the arousal that flooded her the moment their flesh had connected.
    Not entirely, anyway.
    What kept her latched to him was the pure and raw emotion emitting from his every pore. She’d fallaciously assumed he was a beast of rage, need, and impulse. But the