Chapter 3 #2
“Yes.” He stands and reaches over his back, dragging his shirt off in one motion, and I forget what I was going to say next.
Gray-green expanse, slabbed and scarred, a stoneworker’s shoulders, that low-banked heat pouring off all of it.
Then he thumbs open the waist of his trousers and pauses, watching me, one eyebrow up, and if this is his idea of asking permission, the answer has been yes since the stew.
“If you stop now,” I say, “I’m telling the betting pool everything.”
The trousers go, and I stop breathing for a second.
His cock is proportionate, which is to say mathematically impressive, and I’m still not emotionally ready.
It’s long, heavy, deep forest green. It’s curved up slightly, and thick enough I know my fingers won’t meet around it.
The head is broad and flared, with a firm ridge crowning it that the binder never covered either, but I’m one hundred percent down for it.
There’s a bead of moisture at the tip, and for one genuine moment, I wonder if it’s going to fit.
If I had planned for this, I probably should have trained.
“Wren.” He rumbles my name and wraps a fist around his cock, slowly stroking it and watching my eyes follow his hand. “Tell me how you want me, thess’venna. Say it.”
“I want you.” I push up, pat the couch next to me, and reach for him. “Sit. I want to drive first. If I’m going to be ruined, I want it on my own steering.”
He sits, and before I climb up, I wrap my hand around his cock. I was right, my fingers don’t touch. His head tips back, and suddenly, he’s at a loss for words.
Turns out you can switch the quiet one all the way off with just a hand. Good to know.
I climb into his lap. For a moment, I wonder about logistics, and then just go for it. I lower myself over him, and he steadies me with one hand.
“Fourteen months,” he groans. “One hundred and six doors. And then the door opens, and it’s you.
” He lines his cock up with his free hand, and I lower down until the broad head parts my pussy lips.
I imagine I’m dripping down his shaft, and my legs shake as I resist dropping all the way as he continues.
“I am going to say this once while I can still build sentences, so keep it. I would have waited fourteen years.”
“It’s mine,” I whisper. “Every word.”
Then I sink down onto him slowly. The stretch is more than I expected, and there’s a moment that borders on pain and pleasure until the ridge on his cock slides against the perfect spot. I moan as my body yields around him in increments.
His cock drags along every inch, and I squeal in delight. By the time I’m seated on him completely, we’re both making sounds, his a broken groan, and mine is nothing but vowels.
“You set the pace,” he grits out. “I’ve got you.”
I set a slow pace first, his grip steady at my waist, taking none of my control and all of my weight.
Each roll of my hips makes me moan in pleasure and my eyelids flutter.
Holy fuck, if I had realized how great this was going to be, I would have jumped him yesterday, thirty minutes of meeting time be damned.
I give an experimental bounce on his cock, and the zing of pleasure straight to my toes makes me go wild on his cock. I hold onto his shoulders, and the room fills with wet sounds and the creak of the couch.
When I lean forward and kiss him, the bottom drops out of the world. Everything turns to static, and the only thing that matters is this moment. Our tongues swirl together while I fuck him, and suddenly I know the sex isn’t this good because he’s an orc. It’s all about him.
I break off the kiss and gasp, “Harder. You won’t break me. I’m sturdy.”
He shudders, all of him. “You’re precious,” he corrects, and then uses my hips to haul me down onto his cock. He’s driving up into me with a force that makes sparkles of color burst along the corners of my vision. The flared ridge of his cock catches a magical spot on every thrust.
He barely sounds winded. “Every sound you’ve made tonight is mine. This one”—a grind, right at the deepest point, and the noise that leaves me is barely human—“this one is my favorite. I’m going to spend years listening to it.”
“Years.” I’m clinging to his sweat-slick shoulders, half delirious with rapture.
His hands go loose on my hips, and I take over again. For a while, I rock against him, learning what my own weight can do, the catch of that ridge lighting that same spot again and again. The sounds coming out of my mouth are one continuous moan.
“Look at you.” He watches me move on him, and his hands stay loose. “Taking what you want from me. I could watch this forever.”
I grind down harder, and he groans deeply enough that I feel it in my fingertips.
“Listen to how wet you are,” he says. “I’ll be hearing that sound for the rest of my life, and it still won’t be enough.”
“Fourteen months,” I manage, because apparently it’s the only fact I have left.
“Fourteen months.” His voice is starting to come apart at the edges. “You were worth every day of the wait.”
I answer in demands that stop being sentences. “Faster.”
He complies.
“Deeper.”
Done.
“Don’t stop talking.”
“Not a chance.” It’s a growl against my throat. “You want words, thess’venna? For you, I have all of them.”
Somewhere far back, the part of me that has spent a lifetime staying composed while other people fall apart gives up. I let go completely. I close my eyes and ride him as pleasure turns me mindless.
When he lifts me, I barely notice. His cock is still inside me, and then my back is on the carpet with one ankle on his shoulder. The new angle turns me into an animal. I claw at him as he fucks me harder.
“There,” he groans, watching my face as he repeats the thrust. “Right there.”
He’s braced on one forearm, and his free hand is in my hair as he pounds me into the carpet. My hands claw at his shoulders, and the third orgasm tears me apart. I clench around him hard and cry out so loudly I’m sure they heard me in the lobby.
He drives into me until I’m a whimpering mess, and right when I think I can’t take any more, his rhythm breaks.
He comes with a roar I feel all the way to the soles of my feet, and then he’s unloading deep inside me.
I feel every pulse of it, heat flooding into me in heavy spurts, filling me until it has nowhere to go.
The last coherent thought I have is that the whole island would riot if they knew. The quiet one is the loudest man I’ve ever heard.
When I come to, he’s on his back and I’m somehow sprawled over him. His cum leaks out of me onto my thigh, a slow warmth, and I make no move to clean up. This is filthy and amazing.
His heartbeat is slowing under my ear. He’s stroking my hair with one hand and my back with the other.
“So,” I say, when my brain reboots. “You talk.”
His voice is all gravel now. “Only for you.”
“The island thinks you’re silent.”
“The island does not matter.” His arms circle around me. “You do.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I kiss his chest. A deep rumble of contentment from him warms me, and I smile against his skin.
I have no idea how this is going to work out, but no one has to make decisions tonight.