Page 112 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
The spur clung to my clit, vibrating.
My entire body locked up. “Oh.”
“Too much?” His voice came out strained.
“No. No. Don’t you dare stop! It’s amazing.”
The vibration intensified, combining with the fullness, the ridges, and the relentless rhythm. The sensation was so acute I couldn’t process it.
“Look at me,” he said.
I forced my eyes open.
He watched me like I was the only thing in existence. His restraint had started fracturing. I could see it in the tension of his jaw and feel it in his white-knuckle grip on my hips.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he said.
“You.”
“Say my name.”
“Brovish.”
“Again.”
“Brovish.” It came out broken.
His control shattered.
He thrust up hard while his small cock vibrated against me.
Again. I drove myself down onto him, over and over.
I bucked against him. Rode him as hard as he was riding me.
We came apart.
My body clenched around him as wave after wave crashed through me. I cried out.
He followed, my name echoing around us. Warmth flooded inside me as he pulsed, his hands holding me against him.
We collapsed together, both trembling, gasping for air.
He stayed inside me while we caught our breath, his hands tracing patterns on my back.
Eventually, he lifted me off him, gentle despite my whimper of protest. He laid me on the bed and walked into the bathroom. When he returned with a warm cloth, he cleaned me. The care in his movements made my throat tighten.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
My brain catalogued soreness (the good kind), satisfaction (profound), and belonging (undeniable).
“I feel wonderful.”
He opened the bedroom door and climbed back into bed, pulling me against him. I tucked myself into the curve of his body and kissed his chest, laying my head on his shoulder.
Sofia flew into the room and landed between our legs with an indignant peep.
I burst out laughing.
