Page 38 of The Orc's Protection
The explicit words from his usually formal mouth nearly undo me. “Yes,” I breathe. “Please, yes.”
He lifts me easily, repositioning me so I’m lying back on the couch with him kneeling between my legs. The shift in dynamic—him looming above me, clearly in control—sends my pulse spiking hard and my breath coming faster, heat pooling low in my belly at the sight of him like this: vast and certain and entirely focused on me, like I’m the only thing in his world worth this level of attention.
“These,” he says, fingers hooking in the waistband of my leggings, “need to go.”
Yet he waits for my permission. I lift my hips to help him slide them down my legs along with my underwear. The cool air against my heated skin makes me shiver, and suddenly I’m completely bare before him while he’s still wearing jeans.
His eyes darken further as he takes me in. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, his large hands sliding up the inside of my thighs, spreading them gently. “And already so wet for me.”
I should be embarrassed by how obvious my arousal is, but the hunger in his gaze burns away any self-consciousness. When his thumb brushes against my center, my hips jerk involuntarily.
“Sensitive,” he observes with clear satisfaction. “Good. I want you to feel everything.”
He starts slowly, one thick finger sliding through my wetness, learning the shape of me. The gentle exploration is maddening—not quite enough pressure, not quite where I need it most. When I whimper in frustration, his answering chuckle is dark with promise.
“Patience, little teacher. I’m studying.”
“Vraag, please—”
“Please what?” His finger circles my entrance, teasing. “Tell me what you need.”
“More,” I gasp. “Touch me. Make me—”
My words dissolve into a moan as he finally gives me what I need, his thumb finding the bundle of nerves that makes stars burst behind my eyelids while one thick finger slowly pushes inside me.
“So tight,” he growls. “Even for one finger. We’ll need so much preparation before you can take me fully.”
The reminder of what’s to come, the size difference we’ll have to navigate, sends another wave of heat through me. His finger moves slowly, carefully, letting me adjust to the intrusion. It’s thicker than a human finger, the stretch noticeable even with just one.
“Okay?” he asks, watching my face intently.
“Yes,” I manage. “More than okay.”
He adds a second finger, and the stretch increases. There’s a moment of discomfort before pleasure takes over, especially when he crooks his fingers and finds a spot inside me that makes me cry out.
“There,” he says with satisfaction. “I can feel you tightening around my fingers. You like that.”
It’s not a question. His enhanced senses can probably detect every flutter, every clench of my body responding to his touch. The knowledge that he can read my responses so clearly is incredibly arousing.
He sets a rhythm, fingers moving inside me while his thumb works my clit, that quickly has me climbing toward release. The rumble in his chest grows louder, vibrating through me where our bodies connect.
“I can smell how close you are,” he murmurs. “Can hear your heartbeat racing. Your body is telling me everything, little teacher. And it’s saying you’re about to come for me.”
His words are the thing that breaks me, low and deliberate, as if he’s been saving them. The pleasure crests so fast I don’t have time to brace for it, my whole body pulling tight before it shatters. I cry out his name, my hips rocking against his hand, chasing every last pulse of sensation he’s willing to give me.
He gives me all of it. His fingers don’t stop, don’t rush. They stay with me, reading every shudder, drawing out each wave until I’m trembling and boneless and his name is still on my lips. Only then does he ease back, slow and unhurried, as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, watching me come apart in his hands.
When I finally come back to myself, I find him watching me with an expression of pure satisfaction.
“That was…” I struggle for words. “Incredible.”
“That was just the beginning,” he promises. “When we finally join completely, it will be even better. But this—” he slides his fingers free, and I flush at the evidence of my arousal coating them, “—this was perfect for tonight.”
He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting with an expression of pleasure that makes my spent body stir with renewed interest. “You taste as good as you smell,” he says. “I could feast on you for hours.”
The image his words create makes me shiver with anticipation.
“Soon?” I ask hopefully.
