Chapter 15 #2
His tusk grazed her skin, not quite breaking the surface, and she shuddered against him, her hips moving in a rhythm that made his blood burn.
Yes. This. More.
He tore impatiently at her dress and heard it rip, but all he cared about was the delicate softness of her skin beneath his hands. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to send a jolt straight through him.
Need. Want. Mine.
He lifted her higher against the wall, tugging the ruined dress away to reveal her small, perfect breasts.
He took one rosy peak into his mouth, and her taste exploded on his tongue as her head fell back against the wall.
He laved and sucked and nipped until she was writhing against him, soft little cries escaping her lips with each pull of his mouth.
He shifted to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. His hand moved down, exploring the curve of her hip, the soft swell of her belly, the dip of her waist.
Her breathing grew ragged, her movements more frantic. Her hips rocked against him, seeking a friction she couldn’t quite find.
“Please,” she whispered, and he let her slide down the wall, dropping to his knees in front of her.
Her eyes widened as he looked up at her, meeting her eyes. And in her gaze, he saw everything he’d ever secretly craved—acceptance, desire, and something so much deeper it made his heart ache.
Mate.
He pulled the ruined skirt of her dress down over her hips, revealing slender thighs and a tangle of fiery curls already damp with arousal. His Beast roared at the scent of her desire.
“Need to taste you,” he growled, spreading those pale perfect thighs.
She cried out, her hands tangling in his hair as his tongue found the sensitive nub hidden within her folds.
A sharp, shocked sound that was music to his ears escaped when he circled it with his tongue.
He explored every slick inch, learning what pleased her.
Her taste intoxicated him, a sweet, musky flavor that went straight to his head.
Her hips bucked against his mouth, her movements growing more desperate as he drove her higher and higher. He worked a finger inside her tight little channel, and she gasped his name, a sound of pure need that drove his own arousal higher. She was so wet, so perfect.
“Khorrek. Oh gods. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t, his tongue flicking and swirling as his finger pumped in and out. She cried out his name as her orgasm washed over her, her muscles clenching around his finger in rhythmic pulses that made his own body ache with need.
He held her through it, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs as she trembled against him, her hands still fisted in his hair. When her breathing evened out and her trembling subsided, he smiled up at her
Her eyes were dazed, her lips swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. She looked well-loved. Satisfied.
Mine.
A fierce, primal satisfaction surged through him. He had done this. He had given her this pleasure.
“I…” She started, then stopped, her cheeks flushing even darker. “Wow.”
A smile tugged at his lips. A real smile. Not the sardonic smirk he usually employed, but a genuine smile that felt both foreign and right.
“I’m glad you approve,” he said, his voice still rough with desire.
“Approve doesn’t begin to cover it.” She tugged lightly on his shoulders, urging him to stand. “That was… educational.”
His smile widened. “Educational?”
“I didn’t know I could feel like that. Maybe I couldn’t with anyone else.”
His Beast growled its approval as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, leaving the ruined gown on the floor.
He placed her gently on the mattress, then straightened, looking down at her.
At all of her. Her hair, a wild auburn tangle against the white pillows.
Her perfect little breasts with the rosy peaks still swollen from his mouth.
Her body, soft and inviting and perfect.
“You’re beautiful,” he said roughly.
She smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “So are you.”
He was an orc. A monster. A weapon. But when she looked at him like this, he believed her. He believed he could be more.
He joined her on the bed, his hands roaming her body, memorizing every curve. Every soft place.
She was so different from him. So small and delicate. So breakable.
That thought suddenly cut through the haze of desire and he froze, his breath suddenly harsh in the quiet room, and she gave him a worried look.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t,” he said roughly, and pulled away despite every instinct screaming at him to stay. To claim her.
“Why not?”
“Because I could hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that. I don’t know that.” He sat up, putting distance between them. “I’ve never… with anyone. I don’t know how to be gentle.”
“You haven’t been anything but gentle with me.”
He gave a bitter laugh as he looked down at her. At the signs of his possession on her mouth and breasts. A moment ago they had pleased him, now they were a harsh reminder of his strength.
She sat up as well, and put a soft hand on his shoulder, her touch like a brand against his skin. “
“Khorrek—”
“I said no.” He stood, turning away from the sight of her, flushed and wanting. “I have to stand guard. You should rest.”
“Don’t do this,” she said quietly. “Don’t pull away because you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Liar.”
He was lying. They both knew it. But the alternative—losing control, hurting her, proving that he really was the monster Lasseran had created—was worse than any lie.
“Get dressed,” he said, his voice harsh. “I’ll have food brought to you.”
Then he walked out of the room before she could argue further. Before he could give in to the temptation to crawl back into that bed and do exactly what his body demanded.
The lock clicked into place behind him, and he leaned his forehead against the cool wood, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
What have I done?
He’d tasted heaven and then forced himself back into hell. And the worst part was knowing he had made the right choice. The only choice.
Because he was a weapon. And weapons didn’t get to have heaven.