She nods, her cheeks flushing deeper. “It’s always been so rushed, so focused on the destination instead of…”
“Instead of the journey,” I finish, my chest tightening with tenderness and anger at whoever made her feel that way. “We have all the time in the world, Jordan. I want to learn every inch of you. Taste every hill and valley of this lush body.”
Unable to resist, I slide my hands up her sides, then find the clasp of her bra. One movement, and it comes undone. I peel it away, freeing her completely to my gaze. Her breasts spill into my palms, soft and warm, her nipples already peaked from my earlier teasing. I pause, drinking her in.
Her breath catches. “You’re staring.”
“I can’t help it,” I admit softly. “You’re perfect.”
Color rises in her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away—she arches, offering herself, and the trust in that small motion wrecks me.
I lower my mouth to one, then the other, sucking until her back arches and she cries out my name. When I finally drag my mouth away, I push up onto my knees, my palms braced on either side of her ribs, and take a long, lingering moment to look at her.
She reaches up with shaking hands, her nails catch in the fabric of my pants, and I rise just enough to kick them away, boots and all, until nothing remains between us but skin and heat.
Her eyes widen, awe and nerves mingling. “You’re… massive,” she whispers, voice barely steady.
I can see her throat work as she swallows.
“I’ve never—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head, but the wonder in her eyes makes me harder still.
“We’ll go slow,” I promise, cupping her jaw until she nods, breathless.
Then, when I’m ready to move lower, I don’t ask her to shift. Instead, I simply grip her hips with both hands and lift her, repositioning her exactly where I want her on the bed. The effortless display of strength makes her gasp, and I can smell her fresh spike of arousal.
I trail kisses down her stomach, taking my time, until I reach the lacy edge of her panties. The scent of her arousal is dizzying, pure and wild. I lower my head and catch the edge of her panties with one of my tusks. With a quick, possessive jerk, I tear them in two.
The sound—the rip of lace, the gasp she makes—snaps the last thread of my restraint. Her sharp inhale and the way her hips lift off the bed tell me everything I need to know about how much she likes that possessive claim.
“I love how small you are,” I growl against her stomach. “Love that I can move you anywhere I want, position you any way I need.” My hands are so large on her hips that my fingers nearly meet at her spine, and that makes something primitive in my depths roar with satisfaction.
I linger just long enough to have her trembling, breath hitching on every pass of my tongue—then she widens her thighs, bends her knees, and places the soles of her feet on the mattress. Herscent is intoxicating now, pure female arousal. My orc instincts are singing—no, screaming—with the need to claim, to mark, to possess her in every way possible.
“Mine,” I growl against the skin in the lee of her neck, the word torn from somewhere primal and ancient.
“Yes,” she gasps, her hands fisting in my braids. “Yours.”
My hands slide lower, slipping between her thighs. She’s so hot and wet for me. The knowledge makes me growl with possessive satisfaction. When I slip one finger inside her tight heat, then another, she cries out, her hips bucking against my hand.
“So ready for me,” I murmur, working her with steady strokes while my thumb finds the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes her sob with pleasure. “So perfect.”
“Please,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “I need you inside me. All of you.”
Her plea goes straight to the primitive male inside me. I lower my head, catching her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss that leaves her trembling. My tongue teases hers as my fingers keep a slow rhythm between her thighs until she’s panting into my mouth. Her hips move with mine, desperate, needy. Every sound she makes vibrates against my lips and straight into my chest.
“You don’t know what that does to me,” I growl against her mouth, sliding my hand free only when she’s trembling with need. Her body follows the motion instinctively, chasing mytouch, and the small, broken sound she makes nearly undoes me.
I position myself at her entrance. We both freeze at the contact—the head of my cock pressing against her slick heat. She’s so small compared to me, and the primitive part of my brain roars with satisfaction at the contrast.
“Look at me,” I command softly, waiting until her gaze meets mine. “If it’s too much, if I hurt you, you tell me immediately.”
She nods, her hands gripping my shoulders. “I will. I trust you.”
I push forward slowly, just the tip at first, and her sharp intake of breath makes me freeze. “Okay?”
“It’s… a lot,” she admits breathlessly, then hurries to add, “But don’t stop.”
I work myself into her inch by careful inch, pausing whenever I feel her muscles tense, letting her body adjust to my size.
