His sword leaned against the wall beside him, the blade glowing faintly with enchanted light. She stared at it for a moment, fascinated by the way the magic pulsed through the metal like a heartbeat. It was enormous, the kind of weapon that would normally require two hands to wield, but she had seen Morgath carry it with one hand as if it weighed nothing. The design was simple and brutal, all function and no decoration, and she knew she’d never be able to steal it even if she wanted to. She’d barely be able to lift it, let alone use it.
Morgath walked to the fireplace and knelt in front of it, beginning to stack logs. She watched him work, her eyes tracking the movement of his hands as he arranged the wood and struck flint to start the flames. Within minutes, the fire was crackling and spreading warmth through the room.
“I thought orcs don’t get cold,” she said.
He glanced at her over his shoulder, the skull catching the firelight and making the empty eye sockets seem even darker.
“It’s not for me. It’s for you.”
She rolled her eyes and walked over to the couch, dropping onto it with less grace than she intended.
“How considerate.”
He didn’t respond. He just stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then reached down and pulled his shirt off in one smooth motion.
Audrey’s breath caught in her throat.
His back was a canvas of tattoos, the intricate patterns spreading across his shoulders and down his spine. But it was the scars that really caught her attention. They were everywhere, crisscrossing his skin. Some were thin, others were thick and jagged.
His muscles moved under his skin like something out of an anatomy textbook, every line and curve perfectly defined. She couldn’t look away. He was the strongest, most physically perfect male specimen she’d ever seen, and her body was reacting to that fact whether she wanted it to or not. She forced herself to swallow and look away before he could catch her staring.
He walked toward his bedroom without another word.
She found her voice just as he reached the door.
“You’re just going to leave me here like this?”
He paused and looked back at her, his hand on the doorframe.
“What do you want from me? It’s late. Good night.”
The door slammed shut behind him, and Audrey was left alone in the living room with nothing but the crackling fire for company. She sighed and pulled her legs up onto the couch, wrapping her arms around her knees. The fire was nice, and she found herself staring into the flames and losing track of time.
She could hear Morgath moving around in his room. The sound of water running told her he was showering, and she tried not to think about what he looked like under the water. Then the water stopped, and she heard the creak of his bed as he collapsed into it.
Audrey made a mental note to be careful when she contacted her team. If she could hear him this clearly, he could definitely hear her. She couldn’t risk him overhearing something that would blow her cover.
An hour passed. The fire burned low, and she thought about adding more wood, but her body felt heavy and tired. She finally pushed herself off the couch and walked to her bedroom. She changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of soft pants, then climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
The room was dark. With no electricity, there was no light from the street outside. She could hear the wind rustling through the pine trees, and the distant sound of an owl calling. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her mind was still racing. She tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position, unable to stop replaying the day in her head.
She was just starting to doze off when she heard it. A grunt, low and deep, followed by a moan that made her eyes snap open. She lay perfectly still, her heart hammering in her chest, and listened. There it was again, muffled but unmistakable. She threw back the blankets and got out of bed, crossing to the wall that separated her room from his. She pressed her ear against the wood and held her breath.
Morgath was grunting and moaning, the sounds coming through the wall with near perfect clarity. Her face burned hot as she realized what was happening, but she couldn’t make herself pull away. She stood there with her ear pressed to the wall, listening to every sound he made. Her own body responded in ways that made her want to scream with frustration.
She bit her lip hard enough to hurt and forced herself to step back from the wall. This was insane. But even as she thought it, her feet were carrying her to the door. She eased it open and tiptoed to his door.
She knelt and pressed her eye to the keyhole.
A candle burned on his bedside table, casting a warm glow across the room. She could see his bed, and him lying in it with his fist wrapped around his massive cock. The skull was gone, sitting on the floor beside the bed, but his face was hidden inshadow. She could make out the outline of his jaw and the way his dark hair fell forward across his forehead, but nothing more.
Her breath came fast and shallow as she watched him stroke himself. His movements were quick and rough, almost violent, and his cock was the most obscene thing she’d ever seen. It was huge, as thick as her forearm, and just as long, with veins running along the shaft, and a broad head that was flushed with blood. He arched up into his own hand, his muscles flexing and releasing
Audrey felt wetness pool between her legs.
Morgath came with a muffled grunt. She watched as thick ropes of seed spilled across his stomach and chest. It seemed to go on forever, coating his skin in white. When it finally stopped and he sat up, his cock was still hard and heavy. His seed dripped onto the floor as he stood.
She felt her own body clench with need.
