Before she could respond, his mouth was on her.
It was different this time. Before, in the watchtower, he'd been teaching her. Showing her what her body could do. This time, he was taking, licking into her with single-minded focus, his tongue pressing and circling and stroking until she couldn't think. His tusks pressed against her outer lips, framing the heatof his mouth, and the combination of smooth and hot and dangerous made her shake.
One thick finger pressed at her entrance. Pushed inside.
She was already embarrassingly wet, and he slid in easier than he had before. The stretch was still significant, but her body remembered this, welcomed it.
"More," she gasped, surprising herself.
He growled against her, and added a second finger.
Now there wasstretch. Real stretch. His fingers were so thick, and two of them together filled her in a way that bordered on too much. She felt herself clenching around him, trying to adjust.
"Breathe," he murmured against her sensitive flesh. "Let your body open. Don't fight it."
She forced herself to relax. To breathe. And slowly, the discomfort eased into pleasure. Into a building need that made her want to move against his hand.
He stroked inside her, curling his fingers. At the same time, his tongue worked her bud, circling with maddening precision. She tried to close her legs on instinct, but his free hand clamped down on her inner thigh, spreading her wider, tusks grazing the soft skin there as he sucked harder. The pressure built sharp and fast, coiling low in her belly.
"I can't—" She gripped his hair, pulled. "Ralvar, I—"
"Come for me," he commanded. "Let go. I have you."
Her back arched off the furs, and she heard herself cry out his name, no longer caring who heard. Her cunt clenched hardaround his fingers. Every contraction dragged another whimper from her throat; she couldn't stop them.
He kept working her, tongue lapping slower now but no less firm, fingers stroking through the spasms instead of pulling out. Her whole body locked, then shuddered violently once more, a second, smaller peak ripping through the aftershocks until she collapsed back into the furs.
He eased up just enough, giving her a heartbeat to breathe, but his thick fingers stayed buried deep, curling lazily, stretching her open in slow, deliberate circles.
"What—" She gasped as sensation sparked through oversensitive flesh. "What are you—"
"Preparing you." His voice was strained. "You need more. You need to be ready."
Her thighs trembled around his shoulders, soft and heavy, the generous curve of her hips spilling over his grip. He had one massive hand splayed across her lower belly, thumb brushing the plush swell just above her mound, holding her steady while the other hand worked inside her. Two thick fingers now, then three, scissoring slowly, coaxing her body to yield more space. The stretch burned sweetly at the edges, a reminder of how much bigger he was, how much more there would be soon.
"Oh—" The sound punched out of her. "Oh, gods—"
He stroked into her with those three fingers, slow and deep, and her body answered in a way she hadn’t expected. The initial sting had melted into thick, insistent pressure—every ridge of his knuckles dragging along her walls, every curl pressing rightwhere she was most sensitive. It wasn’t gentle anymore; it was full, heavy, crowding out everything else. Her hips rocked up to meet him before she could think, chasing more of that impossible stretch.
"There," he rumbled, voice thick with approval, breath hot against her inner thigh. "Your body knows what it wants. Listen to it."
She couldn’t have stopped if she tried. Her clit throbbed against the occasional graze of his tongue, but it was the fullness that undid her, the way her inner walls had to stretch and stretch around him, fluttering helplessly, trying to grip something even bigger.
Her breath came in short, ragged hitches. Her belly quivered under his palm, every muscle tightening as the peak rushed up.
Then it hit.
Not a slow roll, but a sudden, brutal clamp. Her cunt seized around his fingers in hard, erratic spasms, so tight she felt the resistance in his knuckles. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, vibrating against her skin; she felt his shoulders tense, felt the way his grip on her hip tightened like he was fighting to stay controlled.
She could only manage broken little gasps as her whole pelvis jerked once, twice, grinding down onto his hand. Her thighs clamped around his head, soft flesh trembling violently, heels digging into his back.
When the spasms finally started to slow, he didn’t pull away immediately. He kept his fingers buried, stroking gentlythrough the last helpless twitches, letting her feel every inch of how open she’d become.
Only then did he ease out, slow and careful, one thick finger at a time. The sudden emptiness made her gasp again, a soft, needy sound she couldn’t swallow.
"Please," she heard herself whisper. "Please, I need—"
"I know what you need." He rose over her, positioning himself between her thighs. The heavy weight of his cock pressed against her entrance. "If it hurts—"
