“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
I’ve heard many men compliment my beauty in the past, but when it comes from Osrik, it sounds different. Feels different.
With heartbreaking gentleness, he skims his thumb over the healing scar that’s cut across my heart. I can see the flicker of shadows in his eyes as he remembers me being on my deathbed, but I grip him by the chin, shoving his gaze back up to my face. “I’m alright. All healed.”
Humming at my words, he lets his fingers fall from my scar to dip down to my nipple. He circles it, making it harden and pluck up at his undivided attention.
He groans before leaning in to kiss me against my neck, hand grasping my breast, palm scraping against the pointed flesh. “So fucking pretty and soft.”
I may be soft, but he’s hard—all over. His callused hands, his muscled arms…and especially the length bulking up the front of his pants. The sight makes my thighs press together in anticipation.
Leaning forward, I tug at the laces at the top of his tunic, pulling the strands loose. Then I strip him of it so that my own eyes can take in his impressive chest. His body is the largest and strongest I’ve ever seen.
My fingers come up to trace over the dark hair covering his upper chest, before dropping down the planes below his defined pecs, and then even further to his thick, rock-hard middle.
His skin is marked with old scars, some faint, some deep. All of them cut into his tan skin like words carved into wood.Telling a story of hurts and heals, of time spent and blood spilled.
“Pants,” I tell him, snapping my fingers before I point at the delicious lines disappearing into his trousers.
I want to see all of him.
The corner of his lips tilts up, hands dropping as he undoes the laces. In an incredibly sexy move, he stands and kicks off his boots, letting them land with a heavy thump.
Then he lets his trousers fall, and my eyes widen on his cock. “All that is Divine and blessed…”
I have seen thousands of naked men. I have seen just about every shape, size, and curvature there is to a cock. Osrik ishuge. Girthy. With the perfect flared head and a length that makes my stomach clench. And that vein—I don’t know what it is about that stretch of pulse along his shaft, but it makes me want to run my tongue over it.
“It’ll fit,” he says, as if he thinks I’m intimidated and that’s why I’m staring.
And Iamstaring.
Am I slack-jawed? Utterly preposterous. I was a professional for goodness’ sake.
My eyes yank up to his still smirking face. “Oh, I know it’ll fit. It’s just that you’re a man who’s actually bigeverywhere,” I say with open appreciation.
He shrugs. “I’m a big man, so I have a big dick.”
“That’s not always the case, and yours is quite impressive.”
Laughter blows out of him. “Yeah?”
“Honest to Divine, the biggest one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seenmanynaked people.”
His smirk drops. “Don’t talk about seeingmanyothers, or I might ask for every single name of every single man you’ve seen so I can fucking kill them all.”
I hum. “That would be a lot of men. Some women too.”
“My jealousy doesn’t discriminate, and I’m thorough.”
My smile is so wide my cheeks ache. For some reason, I like the possessiveness he has for me, because it doesn’t feel cruel or overbearing. It doesn’t feel like it comes from a place of anger or insecurity, but from a place of protective devotion.
“Well, then…prove how thorough you can be,” I say, my tone seductive as I finally let my hand trail over his erection. It’s hot to the touch, and I trace that vein all the way to the root, where I let my fingers drift over the hair at his groin and then cup his balls. He growls under his breath, the sound filling me with thrill.
Hand curling around his girth, I squeeze, making him jolt out another throaty noise as I stroke up and down once, twice, three times. A bit of precum beads out, and I dip my fingertip to catch it.
“How do you want me?” I purr before I sit up on my knees. I drag my fingertip tantalizingly between my breasts, spreading the bead of his moisture all the way down to the juncture of my thighs. “On my back so you can play with my breasts as you fuck me?” I demonstrate just that as I lie down. “Or do you prefer me like this?” I say, twisting over the mattress until my knees are beneath me, arms keeping me upright. “Taking me from behind as deep as you want, gripping my hair and watching my ass bounce with every thrust?”
I look at him over my shoulder, ready for him to tell me how he wants me, ready to please him, ready to perform.
