That he asked when he clearly could have taken did something to my chest. Made it feel tight and warm and confusing.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He untied the silks with surprising dexterity for someone with hands the size of dinner plates, the fabric falling away to pool at my feet. I fought the urge to cover myself, standing therein nothing but my underwear. practical cotton because I’d been expecting boring Urran, not... this.
“So small,” he murmured, his rough palms skimming my shoulders, my collarbones, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “So soft.” His hands moved lower, cupping my breasts with a gentleness that seemed impossible for someone his size. His thumbs circled my nipples through the fabric of my bra, and I gasped. “But not fragile. No, you’re not fragile at all.”
“I’m—” I started, but forgot what I was going to say when he unhooked my bra with one hand. “How did you—? That took me three tries this morning…”
“I’m a warrior, little mate. I know my way around fastenings.” The smug satisfaction in his voice should have annoyed me. Instead, it made me laugh, some of the tension leaving my shoulders.
“Did you just make a joke? Are you capable of humor?”
“I contain multitudes,” he said solemnly, then lowered his head to my breast, his breath hot against my dark skin. “Now stop talking and let me worship what’s mine.”
“Bossy.” The word came out like a breathy whisper that turned into a moan when his tongue lapped at my nipple.
He lifted me like I weighed nothing, which should have been impossible because I was not a small woman, but apparently orc strength operated on different physics than the rest of us.
He laid me across the bed with a gentleness that made my throat tight, then knelt before me, his massive frame somehow fitting between my legs as he hooked his fingers in my underwear.
“May I?” he asked again, and God, the fact that he kept asking was going to be my undoing.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please.”
He pulled my underwear down slowly, his golden eyes fixed on my face like he was memorizing every expression. When I was finally bare before him, he sat back on his heels, just looking.
“You’re staring,” I said, fighting the urge to close my legs. “It’s weird. Stop being weird.”
“I’m appreciating,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.” His hands spread my thighs wider, and I should have felt exposed, vulnerable.
Instead, I felt powerful, watching this behemoth of a creature gaze at me with naked hunger. His fingers traced patterns on my inner thighs, reverent against my brown skin. “Your scent drives me mad,” he growled, lowering his face between my legs. “My mate. My treasure.”
The first touch of his tongue against me sent electricity up my spine. I arched, crying out as he growled against my flesh, the vibration traveling through every nerve ending. His tusks pressed into my inner thighs, the slight pressure somehow heightening every sensation as his tongue delved deeper.
“Okay, so this is good,” I gasped, fingers clutching the bedding. “This is very good. Ten out of ten. Would recommend.”
He chuckled against me, the vibration making me whimper. His tongue circled my clit then laved broad strokes that made my toes curl. He was broader and rougher than any I’d experienced, which made me think of where else he was built different.
One massive finger pressed inside me, then two, stretching me in a way that was just on the edge of too much but somehow exactly right.
“You taste of honey and fire,” he murmured against my flesh, and even through the haze of pleasure, I thought that was actually kind of poetic for a guy who’d beaten up my previous fiancé. “Let me hear you.”
The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, ripping through my body with such force that I screamed his name. My thighs clamped around his head as I shuddered, but he didn’t stop.
He growled, the sound reverberating through my oversensitive flesh, and kept working, kept those thick fingers moving inside me until I was coming again, tears streaming down my face from the intensity.
“Please,” I sobbed, not sure if I was begging him to stop or continue. “Please, Rakthar, I can’t take much more.”
“You can,” he said, finally lifting his head, his mouth glistening. “And you will. Many times tonight.”
He rose above me then, and I watched through half-lidded eyes as he stripped off his own clothing. His body was a map of scars and muscle, each mark telling a story of battles won. And his cock?—
“Oh my God,” I said faintly. “That’s not going to fit. That’s physically impossible. I took biology. I know things.”
He was intimidatingly large. Different from any human anatomy I’d encountered, contoured in ways that made my brain stutter trying to process it, and I was suddenly very aware of how small I was in comparison.
Rakthar’s expression softened, and he leaned down, capturing my mouth in a surprisingly tender kiss that tasted of me and something darker, spicier.
