Strong. Hardworking. Loyal. Beautiful.
For eons they lived and worked in caves, tunnels, homes made of rock and hewn wood.
She knew the story, and she also understood that all orcs, no matter their culture or place of origin, were known for their particular housing needs.
So she shouldn’t have been surprised that, when the curtain was drawn at the foot of the bed, the bedding nook became less like a bed and much more like a cave. Almost no light filtered in through the small gaps between the curtain and the wooden beams built into the stone walls.
All she saw was the vague silhouette of her hulking mate as he sat on his knees above her, one hand resting on the waistband of his jeans.
Her world was narrowed to the softness of the many, many blankets, the feeling of enclosed space provided by the stone all around her, the heady scent of Kaz’s skin, and the warmth that blazed from him.
And because he told her to, commanded her to, Atria allowed herself to sink even deeper into pure sensation. She threw open the psychic floodgates and allowed herself to feeleverything.It was with a shudder of relief that she tethered herself to him again.
This time, it wasn’t about losing herself. It was about joining him in that churning ocean — filling herself with him so she could give just as much of herself in return.
A tide of lust swept over her, each wave taller than the last, until she swore she could feel it rushing over her skin.
Her hands acted almost of their own accord as she blindly pulled off her clothing. Though she couldn’t see him beyond the thinnest edge of light limning his outline, she sensed him move a moment before he took her discarded shirt from her trembling fingers.
One heavily muscled arm brushed her side as he carefully placed it somewhere on the bed.
Her skirt went next. That too was placed on the other side of the bed. As she wiggled out of her panties and then her bra, Kaz moved around her, arranging the pillows and blankets in a way that made sense to him.
She’d done her best to make an approximation of a nest, but she didn’t have his instincts. Apparently pillows didn’t belong in a mound against what would be the headboard on a normal bed. Kaz placed them in heaps around, adding bunched blankets and clothing to make a shallow bowl with her at the center.
While Atria didn’t have the same instincts, she couldn’t deny how thrilling it was to have her terrifying, dangerous mate so concerned about their bed, their comfort. His loud purring was a rich note in her ears, a wordless reassurance that he was not only more aroused than she’d ever felt, but he was also fully, completely content.
Kazlovedthis. He loved that she was with him. He loved the way she smelled, how she looked. She could feel that warmth all around her, pulling her in. He wanted her as desperately as she wanted him. They were equal in damage and yearning, sensuality and insecurity, give and take.
They were still learning one another, yes, but they were also akin.
Her heartbeat thumped in her ears as she laid back in the plush nest. She could feel the soft material of his hoodie and t-shirt cushioning her head, and when she spread her legs in open invitation, her knees rested on fluffy pillows.
Her eyes were too weak to make out his face in the dark, but she felt his gaze raking over her naked skin.
Kaz’s purring dropped an octave.
She jumped a little when she felt the flesh of his thigh slide against hers. “I didn’t hear you take your jeans off.”
“Your mate is very stealthy,” he rumbled, situating himself so he was kneeling between her thighs.
Warm hands drifted from her shoulders, over her breasts, and down to her stomach. He sucked in a deep breath. It seemed impossibly loud in the dark.
“I want to mark you up. Make you smell like me. Leave you dripping with my come so everyone knows you’re mine. Would you like that, princess?”
The muscles of her core contracted as a deep, hungry ache set in. “Only if I get to reciprocate.”
His hands left her stomach. She felt them settle on either side of her as he bent low. Silky hair trailed over her skin as he ghosted his lips over one taut nipple, then the other.
“Oh, princess.” Kaz traced a line down the valley between her breasts with the tip of his tongue. “That was always the plan. I want you to make me yours. Claw me. Bite me. Fucking tattoo me. I don’t care. By the time we’re done, I want your juices on my face and my blood on your tongue.”
Gods.Atria’s eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips closing around her nipple and the slow, wet glide of his velvety cock over her thighs and stomach.
He completely ignored her rolling hips as he kissed, licked, and very carefully bit her breasts. It was maddening not just because it felt divine, but because she could feel the drag of his cock — and the tantalizing smoothness of the ball ends of his piercing — every time he moved.
“Kaz,” she groaned, torn between threading her fingers in his gorgeous hair or running her hands over his back, his arms.
His lips came off her nipple with a wetpop.“Shh.”
