Her fingers tangle in the cords of my belt. She pulls me closer, trembling.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she says.
My hands slide over her waist, up her sides, until my thumbs rest under the hem of her shirt. I lift it slowly, watching her expression. She doesn't look away. She doesn’t flinch. She raises her arms, letting me strip the fabric away.
She is naked beneath.
My cock aches instantly, thick and heavy and already weeping with need.
I press my palm flat to her stomach. Her skin jumps beneath my hand. “You’re shaking,” I murmur.
“I’m not scared,” she whispers. “I’m just… full.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
I kiss her again. Deeper now. Hungrier.
Her hands explore me—up my chest, along the hard lines of muscle and scar, across the deep green planes of skin that no human man has ever worn. She traces my tusks when our mouths part, then cups my jaw with reverence and fire.
“You feel like stone and sun,” she murmurs.
“And you feel like moonlight on a battlefield,” I say. “Soft. And needed.”
We tumble back toward the bed. She gasps when I lift her with ease—light in my arms like smoke, legs wrapping aroundmy waist. Her wet heat presses to my abdomen. I set her down on the bed, kneeling above her.
“Tell me how to love you,” I say.
“Touch me,” she breathes.
I do.
I kiss down her throat, her collarbone, tasting salt and skin. My tusks graze gently against the slope of her breasts before I take one nipple into my mouth and suck slowly, listening to her moan. She arches into me. Her fingers tangle in my braid.
I slide lower, dragging my mouth down the valley of her stomach, licking the fluttering muscles there. She’s already panting.
When I spread her legs, I see her—pink and wet and swollen with want. Her pussy glistens in the light. I growl.
“Gods,” I whisper. “You are... perfection.”
She blushes, but doesn’t close her legs.
I lean down and taste her.
She cries out, hips jerking. “Kursk?—”
I lick again. Long and slow. Her slick coats my tongue, and I groan against her. I suck her clit gently, circling it with my tongue until her thighs shake.
Her hands grip the sheets. Her body rises and falls like a storm.
“Kursk—please—I need?—”
I rise, cock hard and heavy, veins dark with desire. I watch her watch me as I stroke myself. Her eyes widen. “You’re… fuck, you’re huge.”
“I will go slow,” I promise. “But I will not stop.”
She nods. “I don’t want you to.”
