24. Laina
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LAINA
His weight settled the mattress, and every nerve in my body lit up. This was it. The moment I stopped running and let myself be caught. Let myself be claimed.
Brovish braced himself above me, his arms caging my shoulders, his hair falling forward to brush my collarbone.
His hands shook.
I’d watched those hands steady frightened creatures and lift me into my truck. Seeing them tremble now made my heart sing.
I reached for him.
My palms found his chest beneath his shirt. Warm skin over solid muscle. His pulse thudded beneath my touch.
“Laina.” My name rasped from him.
“I’m here.”
His hand slid to my side, spanning the space between my hip and the underside of my breast. The size of it registered; his palm covered half my torso. My breath stuttered, and heat pooled low in my belly.
He froze. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I arched into his touch. “I want more.”
His thumb traced a pattern below my breast, testing. His gaze tracked the movement like he was analyzing data.
“You’re so small,” he said with wonder.
“You’re very large.” I traced the edge of one ridge with my fingertip. “I understand the mechanics. The question is whether theory translates to practice.”
His mouth curved. “Is that a problem?”
“Others have done it. We can too, right?”
“They have.”
He leaned down and kissed me, our tongues tangling together. When he pulled back, his fingers found the hem of my shirt. With his gaze on mine, he drew the fabric up, his knuckles grazing my belly, my sides. I lifted my arms, and he pulled it over my head, tossing it behind him.
His gaze moved over me, and my skin warmed under the attention.
“You’re—I want to touch you everywhere.”
“Then do it.”
His hands moved to my bra, a front fastening one this time. He studied the clasp with the concentration he gave complex procedures, his fingers much bigger than the tiny hooks.
“This is unnecessarily complicated,” he muttered.
I laughed. “Would you like help?”
“No.” Determination settled in his jaw. “I’ll manage.”
His first attempt failed. The second made him growl under his breath, actual frustration from an orc who could care for small wounds on creatures the size of ponies.
“This is a test of worthiness,” he muttered. “Your people have designed it to eliminate unsuitable mates.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
The third attempt succeeded. His victorious expression made me smile so big my face ached.
He eased the bra out from underneath me and dropped it over the side of the bed.
Then he leaned back on his heels and looked.
The clinical side of my vet brain kicked in, but there was nothing clinical about the way he traced one finger along my collarbone, down the center of my chest, stopping above my navel.
“Your turn,” I said.
He gave me space to sit up. I helped him remove his shirt and pants. And I reached for the knot holding his loincloth in place, my fingers clumsy with need.
The fabric fell away.
Seeing him completely bare, his body responding to me, made my mouth go dry.
His shaft was proportional to the rest of him. Substantial. Ridges ran along its length, and at the base, a small projection curved upward.
“That’s…different,” I said.
His ears darkened. “Is that a problem?”
I traced one finger along a ridge, watching his breathing change. “I’ll let you know.”
His laugh came out strangled.
I explored further. The ridges were firm but yielded slightly under pressure. The spur was jointed and capable of movement. When I brushed against it, he made a sound low in his throat.
“Does that hurt?” I asked.
“No.” His hand covered mine, stilling it. “But if you continue, this will end much faster than I want it to. I want to make you fall apart first.”
Heat flooded through me.
He pressed me back into the pillows, his body covering mine. His mouth found my neck, my collarbone, and the hollow of my throat. Each kiss felt like a brand.
“Tell me what you want,” he said against my skin.
“You.”
“I need something more specific.”
My brain scrambled.
“Your mouth,” I said. “On me.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
His smile pressed into my shoulder. “Say it anyway.”
“Brovish—”
“Say it, Laina.”
I grabbed his hair, tugging until he lifted his head to look at me. “I want your mouth between my legs. Is that specific enough?”
“Much better.”
He kissed his way across my breasts, my belly, my hip bones. His hands slid my underwear down my legs and off.
Then he settled between my thighs, his breath warm against my center.
“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he said.
“I will.”
His tongue traced me, and he focused on what made me gasp, what made my hips lift.
I tried to stay quiet, but my moans and cries slipped out.
I gripped his hair tight, and when he rumbled against me, the vibration shot straight to my clit.
He stroked my breasts with one hand, rolling the nipples, while sliding a finger of his other hand inside me. His groan rang out, and he lifted his head.
“Damn, you’re wet. All this for me?”
I could only nod. I was too far gone, too far into this moment to speak.
The build came steady and relentless. His tongue circled, pressed, retreated. My thighs trembled. My breathing went ragged.
When I came, his name shot up my throat.
He brought me down, but he didn’t stop there.
“Again,” he said.
The second time shattered me completely.
I lay there afterward, trembling, my limbs loose and heavy. He kissed my inner thigh, and moved up my body to kiss my mouth.
I tasted myself on his lips.
“Now,” I said when I could form words again. “I need you now.”
“We should discuss logistics first.”
My laugh came out breathless. “You want to talk about logistics now?”
“You’re very small. I’m—”
“Very large. I’m aware.” I cupped his face in my hands. “I trust you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“We’ll go slow. Communication throughout. I’ll tell you if something doesn’t work.”
He studied my face, and his shoulders loosened.
“There are…considerations related to our anatomical differences,” he said. “The ridges will create additional sensation. When I’m fully aroused, my second cock vibrates. It’s meant to stimulate you.”
“I understand the function.” My vet brain supplied several species with similar adaptations. My everything else brain focused on how that would feel. Amazing. It was going to be wonderful. “Good to know.”
His mouth twitched. “Good to know?”
“What do you want me to say? That I’m fascinated? Because I am. That I want to sit up and study you like a science experiment. Mostly, however, I want to experience it. I’m impatient, and if you don’t get inside me soon I’m going to—”
He kissed me again, swallowing whatever threat I’d been about to make.
When he pulled back, his eyes had darkened. “I need to prepare you first.”
“I’m ready. I won’t break.”
“I won’t risk you.”
I could see the conflict in his face, his need warring with caution. He’d claimed me with his mouth, proven I belonged to him in that way. But this next step required something neither of us could take back.
“Compromise,” I said. “I set the pace. You follow.”
He searched my face. “You’re certain?”
“Completely.”
I pushed at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back. Then I climbed into his lap, straddling him.
From here, I could see his pupils had blown wide, the flush across his cheekbones, and his careful restraint.
I reached between us, wrapping my hand around him. He jerked, his fingers tightening on my hips.
I positioned him at my entrance.
The first press made us both freeze. It was too much. Not enough. I couldn’t tell which.
I sank down slowly, my body yielding around him. The stretch burned, but not painfully.
One ridge slipped inside, then another. Each one a distinct sensation that made my breath catch.
Halfway, I paused. My thighs trembled.
“Breathe,” he said.
I’d forgotten to.
His hands slid from my hips to my lower back, supporting but not pushing. Patient even though I could feel the tension thrumming through him.
I sank lower.
His fullness overwhelmed me, my body taking in the stretch and pressure and subtle texture of the ridges creating friction I’d never experienced.
When I finally settled completely in his lap, we both stopped breathing.
Every defense I’d built over the years was gone. I was completely open to him. Completely his.
“Laina.” My name broke on his lips. “You feel—”
I couldn’t speak at all.
We stayed like that, joined and trembling, while my body adjusted to the size of him. To the shape of him inside me.
His smaller cock coiled up and glided through my wetness to my clit, where it latched on. Heat rolled through me. I was going come. It was going to be huge. And I was going to shriek. I knew it.
“Fuck,” I groaned, my eyes rolling back in my head.
“Move,” he said, pleading, not a command.
I lifted slowly and sank back down. His second cock extended to accommodate the movement, sucking and tugging on my clit. Rolling it. A subtle vibration worked its way up through the core and grounded itself deep inside me.
“Fuck!”
I was bucking against it already, struggling not to come right away. Brovish was barely gliding inside me and I was nearly undone.
“Yes, fuck,” he groaned, his face creased with the strain of holding himself back.
His head fell back against the pillow, exposing the long line of his throat.
I moved again. And again. Finding the rhythm that worked, the angle that made us both gasp.
His hands supported my weight when my thighs burned. He helped me rise, letting me fall.
The ridges dragged against my inner walls with each movement, creating sensation that built and built until I worried I’d shoot through the roof when I came.
And his small cock…
“Faster,” I said. “Push up against me when I drop down.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
He thrust up to meet me, and the change in depth made stars burst behind my eyelids.
We found a rhythm together. My hands braced on his chest. His fingers dug into my hips.
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.
Her small body radiated disapproval as she turned in tight circles.
Brovish reached over me to stroke her spine. “We apologize for the door. It was necessary.”
Sofia peeped again and burrowed between us.
“She’s going to hold this grudge for days,” I said.
“She holds all grudges for days.”
I smiled against his skin.
The cottage settled around us. Our space, our bed, and our new life together.
“I’m staying,” I said.
“In my cottage?” he asked.
“Here. At the rescue. With you.” I tilted my head back to look at him. “This is where I choose to be.”
His arms tightened around me. “When an orc makes that declaration, it’s binding. You can’t take it back.”
“I don’t want to take it back.”
He kissed me, slow and thorough. When he pulled away, his eyes held something I recognized but couldn’t name yet.
Love, maybe. Or the beginning of it.
Sofia peeped, demanding attention.
“She believes we’re finished with the declaration moment,” Brovish said. “And that we should focus on her comfort now.”
“She’s not wrong.” I stroked her back, and her purr vibrated against my palm. “Though I’d like to stay like this a while longer. Tangled together in your bed. In our bed.”
“Our bed,” he said, testing the words.
“If you’ll have me.”
His laugh rumbled through his chest. “Laina. I claimed you. There’s no if remaining.”
Sleep pulled at me, but I fought it. I wanted to exist in this moment for as long as I could.
“Tell me something about you,” I said.
He was quiet for a moment. “I wrote your name in my notebook the first night you came here. Before I knew if you’d return. Even then, I understood what you’d become to me. Now I know it’s better than I imagined.”
I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in.
“I love you,” I said.
He cupped my face, tilting it up so I had to meet his eyes.
“To orcs, love is a claiming bond as well,” he said.
“Does that frighten you?”
“No.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, and my mouth. “It makes me certain. You’re mine. I’m yours. What we’re building here will last.”
Sofia shifted between us, making a sound of contentment.
Through the window, I could see the dark shapes of the enclosures. Cooper would be sleeping in a tree by now, his healed wing tucked against his body. Abagail’s twins would be curled against their mother. Gerald would lay near the fence, and the fizzlings would be grounded and content.
And here I was. Home.
Grief had made me cling to my father’s home. I’d chosen this life for myself.
Brovish’s breathing evened into sleep, his arm heavy across my back.
I closed my eyes.
Morning would come soon enough, with rounds to make and creatures to tend. My mother would follow me around, taking her own small steps across the distance between us. The rescue would grow, and change, and demand more of me than I’d thought I had to give.
But tonight, I’d stay right here.
No need to run.
I’d already arrived.