Chapter 38
Hanna
The prospect of finally being with my male scorched my brain blank to the point that my vision almost whited out.
“I... yes,” I gasped.
He hunched over me, blocking out all my light as he hovered, burying his face against my throat. I heard a quiet whisper of, “You smell so fucking unbelievable,” against my skin, and heat rose even more in my cheeks.
At this rate, I was going to pass out from heat stroke, but I didn’t care. Small nips at my jaw, fangs just a little too tight and just slightly dangerous. He could hurt me, but he never would, so it wasn’t fear that was rushing through me. It was longing.
I wanted him to bite harder. I wanted to wear his mark.
But before anything else could happen, he shoved my top over my head, unsnapped my bra and licked one of my nipples.
I hadn’t been prepared to be bared to him so soon, but before I could even feel self-conscious—which I wasn’t sure that I would since this was Savla after all—he bit my nipple hard enough for my back to arch.
“Open your eyes,” he growled, and I did. He stared at me for a long moment before he said. “You’re so fucking wet for me, but not enough. You’ll need all of it and more.”
I swallowed hard, and he eyed my throat bobbing before meeting my gaze again, his own intense.
“You smell ready for me. So delicious. Like you’re close to losing your mind. Is that right?”
I nodded, unable to speak. But I was able to squirm under him, and his pupils dilated until they swallowed his irises whole.
“You smell like you were made for me, Zoga,” he groaned, and my pussy spasmed hard around nothing as he buried his fangs into the flesh of my shoulder.
Who the hell is this and what happened to my Savla?
As far as I was aware, my mate was a shy male who barely cuddled me before this moment. Now he was driving me insane with his teeth, tongue and fingers. His hands framed my face, thumbs trembling just slightly, as if he’d been holding himself back for years and finally—finally—let the dam break.
“Mine,” he growled against the bite. “To touch. To worship,” he nipped my skin again, and I cried out, almost missing his last words. “To fuck.”
He gave the base of my throat a hard suck, releasing it with a loud pop. I shuddered as he leaned back enough to tug his shirt off. The sight knocked the air right out of me.
Holy fucking shit. My male is fine.
He was—dear Goddess Mother. He was carved.
All hard lines and quiet strength, muscles shifting under skin that glowed warm in the forge light. Broad chest, powerful shoulders, a torso shaped by years of being a warrior. Every inch of him looked like something sculpted, built, earned.
My fingers hovered before I even realized I’d reached for him. “Savla…”
His breathing hitched, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven pulls. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I can’t stop,” I whispered, literally unable to pull my eyes away from the body he’d bared to me so easily.
Heat roared through me—the kind that wasn’t just magick but something deeper, hungrier. He stepped toward me, and I instinctively tried to back away on the table, but failed. My pulse hammered against my skin as he caged me in with his arms, but he didn’t touch—not yet.
My fingertips grazed the line of muscle along his ribs—firm, warm and unreal. He shuddered. Actually shuddered.
“You’re…” I swallowed hard. “You’re incredible.”
“That’s not—” He broke off with a breathless laugh, like he couldn’t even string the sentence together. “Zoga, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
I traced upward, following the cut of muscle along his stomach, the defined ridges there and the tension coiled under my touch. Every line of him tightened, as if he were trying not to drag me against him.
“Then show me,” I whispered.
He inhaled sharply—a wild, unsteady sound—and then his forehead dropped to mine.
“I’m trying not to lose control.”
“This is you not losing control?” I breathed.
That broke him. Completely. His mouth crashed against mine again, hotter, deeper and desperate in a way I’d only ever imagined from him.
His hands went back to what they’d been doing before—warm, strong, almost reverent, skimming along my back while the other was at my breasts, cupping and shaping—and when he pulled me flush against him, I felt everything.
The muscle. The sheer power of his body. The quiet restraint he was fighting like hell to maintain. He groaned—low, dark, undone—and kissed me again, and the world dissolved into heat and magick and the feel of his body pressed hard against mine.
And I knew, with dizzy, terrifying certainty, that I would never see him the same way again. He pulled away to look into my eyes, and with his gaze never leaving mine, he spread my legs open with his knees. He dragged in a slow, deep breath, closing his eyes, like he needed a minute.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
I watched him stroke himself through the fabric of his pants.
I’d been around him long enough that I wasn’t unaware that he had erections around me, but the ridge of his cock always made me pause.
He was... large. And I supposed that was unfair.
He was an orc, after all. But my tongue swiped across my lips as I stared down at it now.
His cock was already leaking through his clothes.
I wanted to touch him. I wanted to do everything with him. Anything he asked for, he could have.
A moment later, his face was in my cunt, my skirt around my hips, and my underwear was slick against me. He pulled it to the side with ease. I’d been so distracted by him that I hadn’t been watching where he was looking.
His eyes drifted shut as he lapped, sucked and pressed kisses against me.
I couldn’t tell whether he was doing this for me or for himself, but I arched in a surge of the purest pleasure and trembled, gasped and begged for more.
He pulled at my clit, stroked every fold with his tongue, and bit my inner thigh.
The noises he made were slightly terrifying. Animal. They should have made me flinch, but… “Please,” I keened.
I fisted my hands in his hair, grinding his face against my pussy. But my ass was in his hands, and he controlled my every movement.
“Do you like this?” he growled against me.
“I— Yes.”
“Good,” he purred, breathless, and I made fists next to my hips as he ate me—orclike, with fangs, feral, the rough flat of his wide tongue scraping against me over and over, teasing my leaking pussy until I was puffy, pink and taut, an overstretched string begging to be snapped.
I chased the end of it, pressed my heels into the meat of his shoulders, feeling the pressure swell inside of me, building up until… nothing. Frustrated, I writhed, desperation filling me. He was ruining me.
Then I felt it. The slide of his thumb through my slit, the thick first joint slowly pressing into my sopping pussy...
“Tight,” he muttered, but he pushed it deeper, then bent it just a little, and the pleasure crested so high, I knew I was there. Everything broke all at once.
And I was keening, screaming, and probably smothering him with my thighs. But that didn’t stop him from continuing. He sucked on my clit, lapped at my pussy until I was a whimpering mess, and I’d fallen back onto the table.
I was almost certain there was a piece of wood digging into my back, but I couldn’t feel anything. There was too much bliss.
He gave one last bite against the side of my pussy, strong enough to make me yelp. It would probably leave a mark and instead of any other reaction that I could have had, the thought made me grin like a loon.
“You just want to be fucked, don’t you?” His tone was ominous, but I just exhaled in relief as he pushed down his pants.