Page 25
“You are so certain—”
His chuckle was dark, triumphant. “‘Tis impossible for an orc to breed with a human, unless…”
“Unless?” I gasped, my hips rocking against his hand as his fingers curled, the pads of them brushing against that rough spot deep inside me, the one that made my vision blur. The one that only he had ever been able to reach.
“Unless they are Mated,” he rumbled, and then his mouth sealed over my clitoris, his tongue working in tight, soft circles as his fingers curled—deep, then shallow, then deep again, hitting that spot over and over until I was panting, my nails digging into his scalp.
“What—what is Mated?” The words were barely coherent, my body coiling tighter, tighter, my thighs shaking around his shoulders.
He pulled back just enough to lick me again then murmur, “The most remarkable experience, to hear my brother and sister speak of their Mates—the person chosen for them by the gods themselves.”
“The gods—”
Maardok’s fingers twisted inside me, his thumb pressing down on my clit, and I shattered.
Pleasure crashed over me in a wave so violent I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the scream, my back bowing off the bed as my cunny pulsed around his fingers, my thighs clamping around his head.
But rather than giving me a chance to recover, Maardok merely hummed in what sounded like victory and bent down again.
His tongue lashed at my clit as I came, his fingers curling again and again, dragging out every last tremor until I was sobbing, my body wrung out and trembling.
And then I felt it, triggered by my orgasm the same way it had been triggered by my pleasure of the kiss; the hot rush of milk letting down, dripping from my breasts, pooling between them, sliding down my ribs. Maardok groaned, the sound vibrating against my oversensitive flesh, and I knew he could smell it.
And liked it.
“Fook Cataline, ye’re perfect,” he rasped, his breath hot against my soaked folds. His fingers slowed but didn’t withdraw, still buried deep as his thumb traced lazy circles around my clit.
“I could feast on ye all night.”
I was still trembling, my body boneless, but when his tongue dragged through my folds again, I jolted, a fresh wave of desire curling low in my belly.
“Maardok—” I rasped, my voice raw. “I cannot—”
“Ye can,” he murmured, his tusks scraping against my thigh as he nuzzled closer. “And ye will, dkaar.”
His fingers crooked inside me again, and I muffled my cry, my hips jerking helplessly.
“You—too much—”
“Never,” he growled, and then his mouth was on me again, his tongue flat and broad as he lapped at my entrance, gathering my arousal before swirling it around my clit. His fingers pumped in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his thumb pressing down in just the right place, and I could feel another orgasm building, impossible and inevitable all at once.
“I care for ye verra much,” he rumbled against my flesh, the words sending another shudder through me. “And the fact that another male sired yer bairns does no’ make me love them any less.”
Love.
Love Ewan, love this babe.
The confession hit me like a blow to the chest. My vision blurred, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. No male had ever—ever—spoken to me like this. As if all that mattered was our future.
Tell him tell him tell him!
But I’d seen his disbelief when I hinted the babe could be his.
Still, he was offering me a future, something I desperately wanted.
So…
“Maardok, I will go with you—”
