For the first time in years, I wanted something badly enough that not having a plan wasn’t a reason to let go.
I reached for him instead of waiting, sliding my hands beneath his shirt to stroke his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath.
The kissing escalated. His hands moved from my hair to my shoulders, and down my back. Mine moved too, finding the hem of his shirt and pulling upward. He helped, reaching back to grab the fabric and tug it over his head in one motion.
I pressed my palms against his bare chest, pulling in the heat of him. I’d been watching footage of this man for weeks, trying to find the truth, and it was in front of me all the time.
My jacket came off next, followed by my shirt. The fumble of sleeves and fastenings made it more real.
His hands went to the clasp of my bra, finding the hooks with more dexterity than I expected from someone his size. The fabric loosened and I helped, sliding the straps down my arms.
He froze.
I watched his face as he looked at me, and the expression there made heat swirl low in my belly. His eyes darkened, his breathing changed, and for a long moment he just stared like he was committing my shape to memory.
His hands came up. When he cupped my breasts, a moan ripped up my throat.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly.
He brushed my nipples with his thumbs, using the lightest possible touch, and I arched into his hands. He did it again, circling, watching my face to see what I liked. When I gasped, he made a growl low in his chest.
His head lowered.
On the first touch of his mouth, I dug my fingers into his shoulders. Hot and wet, his tongue circled one nipple before his lips closed around it and he sucked. The edges of his tusks scraped lightly against the sensitive skin of my breast, a reminder that this male was all orc.
He took his time with one breast and then the other, his mouth and hands learning me with the same attention he brought to everything he did. When he grazed his teeth across one peaked nipple, I whimpered.
At some point I started to tip backward from the intensity of this moment, but he caught me, one arm behind my back, holding me steady while he continued.
He drew back and stared at me, his gaze open in a way I’d never seen.
He shifted his position, his hands guiding me to lie back on the bench. His hand cradled the back of my head, lowering me down rather than letting me drop. The bench was narrow, and he braced one hand on the floor beside me.
Tugging the towel off his neck, he placed it beneath my hips.
He removed my pants slowly, watching my face, not my body. He was checking in, using the only language he spoke naturally, observation instead of words.
I felt small on the bench, while he was enormous as he moved lower to crouch between my knees. I wasn’t intimidated by our size difference. I felt safe instead of trapped.
Before he did anything else, he glanced up, making eye contact. A beat of stillness settled around us, his way of asking.
I didn’t look away.
He accepted it and lowered his head.
His mouth found the inside of my thigh first and kissed, which wasn’t where I had expected. He took his time, kissing his way up.
When his mouth finally reached where I wanted it, I stopped thinking in complete sentences.
The first stroke of his ridged tongue was devastatingly slow, a broad swipe that made every nerve ending I had concentrate on that one place. I gasped, my hips jerking up, and his hand on my belly pressed down with enough weight to steady me without restricting movement.
He made a sound against me, something between a groan and a growl, and I felt the vibration of it everywhere. His breath was hot, his rough tongue hotter, moving in long, deliberate strokes that suggested he planned to take his time.
My fingers found his hair, tangling in the dark strands. I tried not to pull but couldn’t help it when his tongue did something that made coherent thought impossible. He didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the small sound he made suggested he liked it.
His tongue circled my clit, learning exactly what pressure I needed. Not too light and not too hard. Then he flattened his tongue and licked from bottom to top in one stroke that made my thighs shake.
I was panting now, small gasping sounds I couldn’t control. His other hand slid up my thigh, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there.
