“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reading my expression. He pushes forward slowly, and I gasp at the initial stretch. His broad cockhead presses past my entrance, and I feel the first ridge catch—a moment of resistance before it slips inside with a pop of sensation that makes us both groan.
“Breathe, Solarin,” he rasps, holding absolutely still as my body adjusts. “That’s just the first one. There are more.”
Not all orcs have them, he’d told me after we pleasured each other the other day—the ridges seem to run mostly in males of his clan, some genetic quirk that makes him distinctly, uniquely himself.
The thought of each ridge opening me up, sliding against my most sensitive places, sends a bolt of heat through me even as I’m trembling with the overwhelming fullness of just his tip inside me.
After I had my mouth on him before, he told me later that not all orcs have them. The ridges are a trait unique to males of his clan, some ancient genetic quirk that marks them as warriors. Knowing that now makes every glide of his body feel even more intimate, like he’s sharing something sacred with me.
He works the second ridge in with shallow, careful thrusts, and I moan at the friction. Each ridge drags against my entrance, against sensitive nerve endings, creating pleasure that borders on too much.
“Look at you,” he groans, eyes locked on where we’re joined. “Taking me so well. You’re opening for me, Solarin—so damn perfect.”
The possessive words make me clench around him, and he hisses through his teeth.
“Don’t do that yet, precious, or this will be over before I’m even fully inside you.” His voice is strained, every muscle locked with the effort of going slow. “You’re so fucking tight. Tighter than I imagined.”
“More,” I manage, though I’m already trembling. “I can take more.”
“I know you can.” His thumb finds my clit, circling with maddening gentleness after he glides it through my slickness. “But we’re going to make sure your body is ready. I won’t hurt you, not for anything.”
He works the third ridge in as his thumb works my clit, the dual sensation making stars explode behind my eyelids. My body is learning him—the thickness, the texture, the way each ridge creates friction so delicious it’s almost unbearable.
“That’s it,” he encourages, voice thick with wanting. “Opening up for me. Taking your orc’s cock like you were made for it.”
The combination of his words and his movements has me panting, sweating, my legs scrabbling against the blankets. I’m desperate for more even as I’m overwhelmed by what I already have.
“Please,” I whimper. “Ryder, I need—”
“I know what you need.” Another ridge slips past, then another, each one sending shockwaves through my system. “You need me deep. Need me filling you. Claiming you.”
“Yes!” The word tears from my throat as he seats himself another inch deeper.
His purr starts then—that deep, rumbling vibration that I felt earlier. But now, with him inside me, I feel it everywhere. The vibrations travel through his cock, through each ridge, setting every nerve ending alight.
“Oh God,” I gasp, “I can feel you purring inside me.”
“Good.” His grin is feral, possessive. “Want you to feel every part of me. Want this to be so good you never forget who you belong to.”
One more push, slow and deliberate, and he’s finally fully seated. I’m stretched impossibly full, every ridge pressing against places inside me that make my vision blur at the edges. The purr intensifies, and I realize I’m shaking.
“Breathe,” he commands softly, holding absolutely still. His hand splays across my lower belly, pressing down gently. “Feel that? Feel how deep I am inside you?”
I can only nod, completely overwhelmed. It blows my mind that I can see the bulge of his cockhead poking the skin of my belly. His cock pulses inside me with his heartbeat, each ridge a distinct pressure point. The purr vibrates through every inch of him, through me, until I’m not sure whose heartbeat I’m feeling anymore.
“You’re a gift from the goddess herself,” he breathes, voice rough with barely controlled need. “Look at you, taking every inch. It’s like the goddess designed us to fit perfectly together.”
“Move,” I finally gasp out. “Please, Ryder, I need you to move.”
“With pleasure.”
He withdraws achingly slowly and I feel every single ridge drag against my inner walls. The sensation is devastating, too muchand not enough all at once. Just when I think I can’t bear any more, he thrusts back in, each ridge popping past my entrance in rapid succession.
I cry out, back arching off the bed, hands scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders.
“That’s it,” he growls, establishing a rhythm that has those ridges dragging in and out with exquisite friction. “Take it. Take all of me.”
He moves deeper with every stroke, slow and deliberate, making me feel claimed from the inside out. His tusks graze my throat as he kisses and nips at my skin, careful even in his passion. The combination of sensations—his size, his texture, the careful edge of danger from those tusks—drives me higher than I’ve ever been.
