"It's..." She didn't have words. "You're..."
"I know." His voice was rough with something that might have been uncertainty. "If you've changed your mind—"
"No." The word came out fast, fierce. "No, I haven't. I just—" She looked up at him, met his eyes. "I don't know how... I mean, I'm not sure I can..."
Understanding dawned in his expression, softening the hard lines of desire.
"You can," he said quietly. "But we will go slowly. And if at any point you truly cannot, we stop." He lowered himself over her again, bracing on one arm while his free hand stroked her cheek. "I will not hurt you. I would rather die unfulfilled than cause you pain."
"Some pain is—" She bit her lip. "I've heard it's normal. Thefirst time."
"Perhaps. For humans with humans." His thumb traced her lower lip, tugging it free from her teeth. "But I am not human. And I will not accept 'normal.' I will prepare you until your body welcomes me. Until there is nothing but pleasure." His voice dropped lower. "Trust me."
She did. That was the thing she couldn't quite believe. After everything—after a lifetime of being given reasons not to trust, after the grief she'd just witnessed pouring out of him—she trusted this orc warrior absolutely.
"I trust you," she said.
He kissed her again, softer this time. A promise rather than a demand.
Then his mouth began to travel.
He kissed her jaw. The hollow of her throat. The pulse point at the base of her neck. He drew back just enough to hook fingers under the hem of her tunic. One smooth tug, and it was gone, tossed into the shadows. Cool air hit her bare skin, and then his gaze raked over her.
"Gods," he breathed. "Look at you."
She fought the urge to cover herself. Instead she watched him watch her, cataloging the flex of his jaw, the faint flare of nostrils as he drew in her scent. His hands rose slowly, settling on her ribs with startling gentleness, thumbs tracing the undersides of her breasts in lazy arcs. When his thumbs finally brushed her nipples, the contact was so light it felt like static, then firmer, circling until the peaks drew tight under the callused pads.
He bent then, breath ghosting over one breast before his mouth closed around the nipple. Not a gentle suck at first; a firm pull, lips sealing, tongue flat and broad as it dragged over the tip. Then the careful scrape, one tusk sliding along the sensitive underside, the other bracketing so she felt caged by him even in this small way.
She bit down on her knuckle to stifle the moan that rose in her throat. The guards were still out there somewhere in the darkness, and sound carried far in these hills.
He lifted his head, eyes glinting in the low light. "Quiet," he whispered against her skin, though there was a thread of satisfaction in his voice. "Though it pleases me that you must fight to stay silent. It tells me I am doing this right."
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Her free hand found his shoulder, fingers digging into the dense muscle there as he continued his slow exploration. Every touch was unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world, as if danger wasn't lurking beyond the cave's entrance.
Perhaps that was the point. Perhaps this was its own kind of defiance.
He lavished attention on her breasts until she was writhing, until her hips were moving of their own accord, seeking pressure she couldn't find. Then his mouth moved lower. Across her ribs. Over the soft curve of her belly.
She tensed instinctively when he reached the fullest part of her stomach—old shame flaring even now—but he pressed his lips to that softness with reverence.
"Here," he said against her skin. "Here is where I want to bury myself. Here is abundance. Here is life." He kissed her again, open-mouthed, tasting her. "In my clan, women like you are celebrated. Courted. Fought over. If the warriors at Northwatch could see you now—"
"Ralvar—"
"—they would weep with jealousy that you are mine." He lifted his head, met her eyes with fierce intensity. "You are not too much. You are exactly enough. You areeverything."
She felt tears prick at her eyes. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me believe you."
"Because I speak the truth." He kissed her stomach once more, then moved lower still. "And because I will prove it to you. Every day. Every night. Until the lies you were taught cannot survive in the face of what you know."
His breath ghosted over her center, and Delia's hips jerked.
"I gave you this pleasure before," he said. "But I need you ready. Open. I need—" A rough sound escaped him. "I need to taste you again."
