He bit off his words and lowered his mouth to me with a groan, and I stopped protesting. Stopped breathing. Stoppedthinking.
Brakkor’s tongue was everywhere—wide and ridged, dragging through my folds, flicking against my clit, pressing inside me. He feasted, groaning against me like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. His fingers joined in, stroking, curling, teasing me, and when he growled, the vibration sent another wave of pleasure crashing through me.
“Fuck, you’resowet,” he murmured, and when he turned his head, his tusks scraped along my inner thigh. “So sweet. I could eat this pretty cunt all night.”
I whimpered, my hands flying to his hair, my hips rocking against his mouth. I should’ve been embarrassed. Ishould’vebeen mortified by how eagerly I was riding his face, by the wet, obscene sounds filling the room.
But I wasn’t. Because hewantedthis. Because he wasenjoyingit, his growls of approval sending shivers down my spine.
When his fingers curled inside me again, pressing against that spot, I came unexpectedly with a cry, my back arching, my thighs trembling around his head. He didn’t letup, his tongue lashing my clitoris and my cleft, as I rode out the orgasm, my fingers tangled in his hair.
“Brakkor—Please?—”
He chuckled darkly. “Not done with you yet, Kitten.”
And then he was licking me again, his tongue dragging through my folds, his fingers stroking,stroking?—
“I can’t!” I gasped, my body oversensitive, my hips twisting away from him. “I don’t want—this is too… Oh God, please, Brakkor!”
He finally lifted his head, his lips glistening, his dark eyes locked on mine. “And what do you want, Joss? Tell me.” His voice was rough with approval. “I like that in a female.”
I swallowed, my cheeks burning. “You.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I want?—”
“My cock, Kitten?” He sat up, his hands going to his belt, his gaze never leaving mine. “You want my monster cock to fuck your wet cunt?”
I should’ve been shocked. I should’ve been offended. But it was a night of firsts, a night ofJocelyn reclaiming herself. And the way he’d said it—like he wasproudof me for asking—made me bold.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I want that.”
His grin was wicked as he kicked off his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free. I stared. He washuge—thick and ridged, the head already glistening with pre-cum—and for a moment, panic flared. But then he was lying back on the bed, pulling me over him, his hands guiding my legs to straddle his hips.
“Here you go, Kitten,” he murmured, his cock probing at my ass. “Use my cock like the good little girl I know you are.”
I bit my lip, my hands pressing against his tattooed chest as I reached behind me and grasped his cock. He made a noise that might’ve been a strangled groan, but his gaze never left mine. Approving. Trusting.
I positioned him at my weeping entrance and slowly rocked backward, sinking onto him. The first ridge stretched me deliciously, and I gasped.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his hands gripping my hips. “You wanted orc cock? Take it as hard as you can.”
I felt…empowered. As wicked as he was. Holding his gaze, I rocked against him, taking another inch, then another, my breath coming in short gasps. For each inch I lost, rocking forward, I gained two when I slid back. Brakkor’s cock wasnothinglike a human’s—the ridges dragged against my walls, hitting every sensitive spot, teasing my core, making my mouth water from the pleasure.
My gaze focused on the tattoos between my fingers—intricate black swirls against green skin—as my hair tumbled down around my shoulders to brush against his chest, and I took more of this male’s thick, ridged cock.
Then, as soon as I was fully seated, another orgasm burst over me, as I knew it would. I threw back my head and came with a loud gasp, rocking my hips against him. This was the part of sex with an orc I had been most looking forward to; some kind of biological trick their species had developed to make fucking easier. Better. I loved it.
When mythirdclimax began to fade, and I blinked back into focus, Brakkor was staring up at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
His dark eyes burned, his tusks glinting in the soft light as he held himself still inside me, his fingertips digging into my thighs hard enough that I wondered if I might bruise—and knew that if I did, I’d wear them as badges of honor. The sight of him—all that green muscle and ink, his chest heaving, his cock throbbing deep inside me—sent another shiver through my oversensitive body.
I grinned, shy and a little giddy, and something in his expression shifted. His nostrils flared, his grip on my thighs spasming before one hand shot up to tangle in my hair. The sharp tug made me gasp as he yanked me down, crashing our lips together.
The kiss was filthy; his tongue swept into my mouth, and I tasted myself on his lips, his growl teasing my tongue. I moaned into him, my hands splaying against his chest, feeling the way his heart hammered beneath my palms.
Then his hips rolled upward, driving his cock deeper, and I broke the kiss with a whimper.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You feel so good, Joss. So fucking tight.”
His fingers stayed twisted in my hair as his other hand slid up to my breasts, his thumb brushing over my nipple, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. I rocked against him experimentally, testing the angle, and his cock dragged against that perfect spot inside me. My breath hitched.
