20. Evelyn
Evelyn
Varkul lifts me effortlessly, like I weigh no more than a feather. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and I feel his cock press against my entrance — thick, heavy, and so damn hard .
“Do you think you can take me?” He asks, his forehead resting against mine. Despite the hunger in his voice, there’s a thread of restraint. Of concern .
He could simply take me. He could claim my body as his. He’s stronger than I’ll ever be. But instead, he’s asking.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
A low, satisfied growl. “Good. Because once I take you, my little mate… I don’t intend to stop.”
My body clenches at those words. I don’t want him to stop. Not ever .
The orc lowers me down onto the edge of the bed. His cock presses against my entrance, thick and heavy, and my breath falters.
Varkul slides the tip along my folds, slow and deliberate, teasing me until I’m trembling. My nails dig into his arms.
“Please,” I gasp.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with restraint.
“You won’t”
He watches me for a moment longer, like he’s memorizing every detail of my face — and then he pushes in.
My mouth falls open. My breath stops.
He’s huge.
The stretch is incredible, almost too much — but it’s just perfect. My body yields to him inch by inch, taking him deeper, making me fuller than I’ve ever been before.
The pressure, the fullness… it’s completely overwhelming, and I can’t help the needy sounds that slip from my lips.
The orc warlord groans as he sinks deeper into me, his jaw clenched tightly, beads of sweat on his brow.
“You were made for me,” he rasps.
Tears prick my eyes. Not from the pain, but from the sheer intensity of him. Of us .
When he bottoms out, buried to the hilt inside of me, we stay still for a moment. Just breathing. Just feeling.
Then he starts to move.
Slow, deep thrusts at first. Testing, letting my body adjust to him. And then faster. Harder.
The sound of skin against skin fills the air. The bed rocks beneath us, but I barely register it. I’m too focused on the way he feels inside of me, on the way his hips grind against mine with each thrust, on the way his hand wraps around the back of my neck like he needs to feel every part of me.
Every stroke hits a place inside of me that sets my body on fire. I cry out with every thrust, meeting his rhythm, clinging to him like he’s the only thing holding me to this world.
“You’re mine,” he growls, thrusting harder.
“I’m yours!” I gasp. “I’m yours, Varkul!”
“Again!”
“I’m yours,” I moan. “Only yours!”
He growls and leans down, biting into my shoulder. He claims me, and something primal inside of me responds instantly.
We are not just two bodies moving together — we are two souls locking into place.
Varkul pounds into me relentlessly, wild, feral, perfect. I want it. I want every brutal, perfect, throbbing inch of him. His cock hits a spot inside of me that shatters me.
I scream his name loudly as my orgasm rips through me, a blinding, pulsing wave that leaves me completely breathless.
The orc warlord follows moments later. With a roar that I feel in my very bones, his hips slam into mine and then he explodes inside of me. Thick, hot, endless.
I feel every pulse of it, every deep flood of warmth as his seed fills me completely.
Varkul stays inside of me, panting against my shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around me. I hold him just as tightly, because I never want to leave this moment.
Never .
And then, as the adrenaline and endorphins slowly start to fade, I realize what I’ve done.
Did I just do exactly what Dr. Kelly wanted me to?
Did I just get knocked up by an orc?
Did I just doom all of orc-kind?