I reach for her with movements deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to refuse or pull away if this isn't what she actually wants beneath the emotional overwhelm. But instead of retreating further, she allows me to draw her back into the circle of my arms.
"I've been an idiot," I murmur against her forehead, admitting the truth I've been denying for weeks. "Ursik's been telling me to stop holding back. Shae keeps saying you need someone to choose you instead of circumstances forcing decisions. Even Falla thinks I'm wasting time with unnecessary distance."
Her eyes widen with surprise and something that looks like hope. "What are you saying?"
"That I don't want to hold back anymore." The admission feels like stepping off a cliff, abandoning safety for terrifying possibility. "That watching you walk into danger tonight made me realize how much you mean to me."
"Kai..."
"That if you want this—want me—then circumstance and politics don't matter. You can have me right now, no strings attached."
Her answer comes in the form of her mouth finding mine again, but this time there's nothing desperate or panicked about the contact. Instead she kisses me with deliberate intent, lips parting under gentle pressure as the kiss deepens into something that tastes like choice and mutual need.
My control fractures completely as her tongue touches mine, soft exploration that makes heat pool low in my abdomen. Massive hands frame her face with reverence while I memorize the texture of her skin, the way her breath catches when I trace the line of her jaw with careful fingertips.
"I want to feel wanted," she whispers against my mouth, words barely audible but carrying weight that makes my chest constrict. "Not scared or trapped or like I'm someone's burden. Just... wanted."
"You are." The declaration emerges with conviction that surprises me with its intensity. "You have no idea how much I want you."
Her hands find the laces of my tunic, fumbling with fastenings made clumsy by emotional overwhelm and inexperience with orcish clothing. I cover her fingers with mine, helping guide the leather through eyelets until the garment loosens enough to pull over my head.
Cold air hits exposed skin for exactly one moment before her palms map the breadth of my chest, exploring scars and muscle definition with wonder that makes me feel like something worth discovering. Her touch burns paths across flesh that's been touched by others but never explored with this combination of curiosity and reverence.
"Your turn," I say roughly, hands finding the hem of her wool tunic.
She raises her arms in wordless permission, allowing me to peel layers away until bare skin glows golden in firelight. Her breasts are smaller than orcish females but perfectlyproportioned to her lean frame, nipples tight peaks that beg for attention I'm dying to provide.
"Beautiful," I breathe, thumbs brushing across sensitive skin that makes her arch into the contact.
We shed remaining clothing with movements that grow more urgent as bare skin meets bare skin, hands mapping territory that feels both foreign and familiar. Her lean muscles tell stories of survival and scarcity while my bulk speaks to different kinds of hardship, complementary strength that fits together despite obvious physical differences.
When she's completely naked, standing in firelight that paints golden highlights across windburned skin, I have to stop and simply look. She's gorgeous in ways that have nothing to do with conventional beauty standards—sharp intelligence in gray-green eyes, determined set to narrow shoulders, collection of small scars that speak to resilience rather than fragility.
"Second thoughts?" she asks with vulnerability that makes my heart clench.
"Never." I draw her against my chest, skin-to-skin contact that sends shockwaves through my nervous system. "Just trying to memorize this moment."
Her laugh carries surprise and pleased satisfaction. "We have time for memorizing later."
Then her hands are exploring lower, tracing the line of my abdomen until her fingers wrap around length that's been aching for her attention since the first night she stayed in my longhouse. The contact makes me groan against her neck, control fraying under gentle exploration that feels like worship and torture in equal measure.
I lift her easily, carrying her the few steps to my bed where furs and woven blankets create a nest of warmth and softness. She settles into the center with unconscious grace while I drink in the sight of her pale skin against dark pelts, firelight paintingmoving patterns across curves I want to explore with mouth and hands until she's breathless beneath me.
"Come here," she whispers, arms reaching for me.
I settle beside her carefully, hyperaware of size differences that could cause discomfort if I'm not mindful of my strength. But she pulls me closer with surprising insistence, mouth finding mine again as we sink into kissing that builds heat between us like banked coals bursting into flame.
My hands explore her body with reverent attention, tracing the architecture of ribs and hip bones while she arches into contact that draws soft sounds from her throat. When my thumb finds the tight peak of her nipple, her gasp makes triumph sing through my bloodstream.
"Like that?" I murmur against her collarbone.
"Yes," she breathes, fingers tangling in my hair. "Don't stop."
I have no intention of stopping. My mouth follows the path my hands have mapped, lips and tongue exploring sensitive skin while she writhes beneath attention that makes her breath come in sharp pants. When I take her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, her back arches off the bed with a response that goes straight to my cock.
"Kai," she gasps, hands clutching at my shoulders. "Please..."
"What do you need?" I ask against her breast, breath making her shiver.
