It’s been years since I’ve slept so well. My usual nightmares didn’t plague me at all. I’m warm, lying on something soft and comfortable, and the room is still dark, which means I haven’t overslept for once. I know I’ll have to get up soon and start work, but if I can get a moment of rest more, I’ll take it.
A hot exhale on my face is the first indication that I’m not in my own bed anymore. In a dizzying rush, everything that has happened in the past weeks comes crashing back, and I stiffen in place. The only explanation for the warmth I’m currently experiencing is…
The orc king.
I pry one eye open and find myself staring at a vast expanse of skin. Green, taut skin that covers the inhumanly large muscles of Gorvor’s chest. Because I am plastered to his side, and the warm pillow I thought I was resting on is actually his chest. My arm is draped over his belly, which rises and falls with each long breath, and my leg is hooked over his hip, brushing up against something hard and heavy.
Oh gods.
It’s worse than I imagined. I’d thought that maybe he’d taken advantage of me, groping me in my sleep, but no—I’m clinging to him while he rests peacefully. While we’re both naked. Completely, utterly naked.
Not that he seems to mind. As if sensing my agitation, the king shifts in his sleep and rubs his cheek over the top of my head. He curves the arm I’m lying on and grips my naked waist, drawing me closer to his side.
I need to escape. A moment to gather my thoughts, and I’ll be cured of whatever madness possessed me to allow this to happen.
Then the memory of what we did in the giant bathtub surfaces, and I settle down again. The sensations I’d experienced were unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and my insides clench as I think of repeating it. It’s no wonder men are so obsessed with sex. If my interlude with the merchant’s son was anything like last night’s moment with Gorvor, I’d be chasing the poor idiot down and insisting we get married. It’s probably lucky that he didn’t give me this kind of high. I didn’t like him, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be his wife.
Instead, I seem to have become this orc’s mate.
Trying to be stealthy, I peel my arm and leg off Gorvor and push myself into a seated position. Maybe I can get dressed and ready before he wakes up and demands anything from me. But I pause, staring down at him. The conflicting impulses inside me are waging war against each other—the proper, human-bred instinct to cover myself and the curious part of me that wants to know more.
More about this orc male who kept his promises last night. More about my own body—because he seems to know it better than I do, and that’s unacceptable.
I must be mad, because I let the curiosity win. Biting my lip, I slowly tug on the linen sheet that’s covering Gorvor’s cock. It feels scandalous to call it that, even in my mind, but that’s what he called it last night, so I want to, as well.
My brain stutters to a stop. The king is so much bigger than me, than any human, of course, so it makes sense that his cock is larger than a human’s. But compared to what I’d briefly seen between that human boy’s legs, this is…
Frightening.
I’d felt my pussy last night when Gorvor had guided me to pleasure myself with my finger. There is no possible way this thick member would ever fit inside me.
The large, green cock twitches slightly, growing more erect before my eyes. The shaft thickens, and the head distends, but the most amazing thing about it is the bulbous shape at the bottom, something I definitely didn’t see with that human guy.
What does it do?
The cock rises all on its own, jutting up at an angle, and I have to curb the sudden desire to touch.
“Do you like it?”
I jump, fumbling with the sheets. Gorvor lies still, exactly as before, but his dark eyes are open, and he wears that crooked, dry grin I’d admired last night.
“Oh!” I cover my breasts with one arm and drape my hair forward to help me hide my nudity. “I didn’t know you were— I didn’t mean to—”
One warm palm lands on my lower back, and Gorvor rubs slow, soothing circles on my naked skin. “No need to fret, little mate. You can look as much as you want.”
“I wasn’t looking.” I lift my chin, but I don’t move away from his touch. It feels good, and I like it.
The king chuckles. “No? Well, you can look now.”
I try to avert my gaze, I do. But it’s just so large. Biting my lip, I glance over to it again, fascinated despite myself.
“You’re worried,” he rumbles. “About how it will fit?”
Peeking up at him again, I give him a tiny nod. Not that I’m thinking about having sex with him. But the mechanics are…intriguing.
The pressure of his hand increases slightly, and he brushes it lower, over the top of my ass. No man has ever touched me like that. He traces the bumps of my spine with his thumb, then curls his fingers around my hip, giving the rounded, soft part of me a squeeze.
“If I tried to fuck you without making sure you were ready,” he begins, “I would hurt you. That’s true.”
I swallow thickly. “But—you won’t.”
It’s not really a question, not after last night when he’d kept his word.
“No, I won’t, Dawn.” He continues his slow exploration of me, almost absentmindedly, like he enjoys touching me but isn’t paying attention. “I will make sure you’re slick and wet for me.”
His fingers brush the side of my breast, and my nipples pebble into hard, aching points. Maybe that’s why I dare to voice my next question.
“How?”
His gaze sharpens. “You want me to show you?”
My hands tremble as I lower them, letting him see all of me. “Maybe. But not—not that.” I glance at his huge cock. “Um, not yet.”
Smiling wolfishly, he replies, “Oh, no, you’re not getting that. Not until you beg.”
I bristle at the implication that I would ever beg for sex. But then—perhaps I would. If it was as good as what I experienced last night, maybe Gorvor could reduce me to begging. I will never know until I try.
The king doesn’t pounce on me like I expected. He continues that sensuous stroking, caressing my skin. He pauses on my ass and slips lower, cupping me with his big palm. I squirm in place.
He smiles wider, his tusks glimmering in the low light. “Easy.”
I want to demand that he speed up. This waiting is excruciating, but instead of giving in to my impatience, I resist.
“Good,” Gorvor purrs. “Now lie on your back.”
Shivering, I do as he asks. He rears above me, and a spike of fear shoots through me. He could so easily force me to do what he wants—or crush me. But the steady, heated look in his eyes tells me he’s not about to go feral and hurt me. For some reason, this orc is intent on showing me what I’ve been missing out on, and I want to let him.
“First, I’d make love to your mouth.” He lowers his head and brushes his nose over my cheek, inhaling. “You smell so good.”
I brace my palms on his chest—not that I could push him off, even if I tried—but I need an anchor, and his warm skin and the shifting muscles beneath it are so appealing. His scent invades my senses, scrambling my thoughts, or maybe that’s the way he presses slow kisses to my jaw, my cheek, the corner of my mouth.
Then he kisses me, and it’s the first real kiss I’ve ever experienced. Yes, I’ve had pecks and fumbling, sloppy kisses, but this puts them all to shame. Gorvor takes my lips with complete confidence, his tongue slipping in to caress mine. I’d been afraid his tusks would get in the way, but they’re just a part of him. I return each kiss as best I can. I slip my hands around his neck and hold him close, and Gorvor makes a pleased, growling sound in his throat that spurs me on even further. I open for him, allowing him to plunder my mouth, and the warmth from his kiss melts the rest of my reluctance.
He chuckles deeply and moves on from my mouth, and I protest, fisting his long hair and dragging him back for another kiss. That sensation inside me intensifies, as if some bond has formed between us that relishes our closeness.
“You wanted me to show you something,” he says between kisses. “But now you want me to kiss you all morning?”
“Mm,” I hum. “Can’t we do both?”
“We could,” he replies. “But not today. Right now, I need you wet and hot and not afraid.”
When he lifts his head, his expression is serious. So I give him a small nod and loosen my fingers from his hair. He kisses my neck, my shoulder, and travels down to my breasts. I squeak and try to cover them with my hands, but he shakes his head, takes my wrists, and pins them to either side of my head.
“No hiding, Dawn.” His words are rough, a sharp command. “We don’t hide from each other.”
“All right,” I breathe.
He lets me go and leans down to take my nipple in his mouth. I gasp, squirming under him, and he teases me, sucking and licking. He brings his palm up to my other breast and pinches my nipple between his fingers. He rolls and tugs on it, and every touch sends pleasure straight to my core, building pressure that needs release.
“Gorvor,” I pant, “please.”
I don’t know what I’m asking for, apart from wishing for that glorious feeling I experienced last night.
“I’ll take care of you,” he promises. “I can smell how wet you are already.”
Embarrassment rises in me, and I try to close my legs, but he has wedged himself between them.
He raises his head from my breasts and sends me a stern look. “What did we say?”
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
He keeps me in suspense and remains still. Instead, he raises one black eyebrow, waiting for my words.
Finally, I cave and spread my thighs wider. “No hiding.”
“Good girl,” he rumbles. “That’s it.”
Without warning, he pinches both of my nipples, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed. I don’t know if it’s possible to achieve that blissful feeling with him just teasing my nipples, but I need him lower, now.
With a dark laugh, he rains kisses over my soft belly, and with the way he dips his tongue in my navel, I get the first idea of what he intends to do.
“Oh,” I gasp when he digs his strong fingers in my thighs and hikes them up. “I don’t know—”
His hot breath falls on my pussy, and words desert me. I’m all trembling anticipation and awkwardness, worried he might not like what he sees down there.
But Gorvor’s dark gaze meets mine for a brief second. “You’re gorgeous. All over. So wet for me already, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“You have,” I protest. “You’ve done plenty of touch—ah!”
I yelp as he runs one blunt fingertip through my pussy, spreading the slickness over my lower lips. He doesn’t push inside me or touch my pearl, and the anticipation has me shifting my hips again, until he pins me down with one hand, sending me an admonishing glower.
“I told you I’d show you how I’d get you ready for me,” he says. “This is how.”
A tremble starts in my chest, a shiver of expectation I can’t seem to calm. “Gorvor, please. I don’t know what to do.”
He rears up and presses a rough, possessive kiss on my mouth. “You don’t have to do anything. Let go for me.”
He slowly pushes his big finger inside me, and I take him easily, slippery as I am. I glance down my body, and the sight of his green-skinned hand against my pussy is so erotic, I gasp, feeling almost as if this is happening to someone else. Surely, this kind of pleasure doesn’t exist in my world, not when I’m—
“Dawn,” the king says. “Look at me.”
I lift my gaze to his face, which is taut with tension. Our eyes locked, we stare at each other as he feeds another finger inside me, stretching me. My eyelids flutter, but I don’t look away. He’s telling me something with every touch, every heated kiss.
I’m here. This is no dream, no illusion. This scarred, powerful male wants me. The heavy weight of his cock rests against my hip, and he rocks up slightly, like he can’t help himself. At the same time, he fucks me with slow strokes of his fingers, hooking them up like he’d instructed me last night.
The pressure inside me builds, but I need more—I don’t know if I can finish just from him teasing my pussy.
I open my mouth to tell him that, but he gives me that wicked grin and lowers himself between my legs again.
“What are you doing?” I ask, craning my neck.
“Eyes on me,” he commands. “I want you to see everything.”
With that, he plunges his fingers deeper inside me and runs his tongue over my bundle of nerves. The sensation is so shockingly intense, I cry out and try to squeeze my legs shut, but he’s there, he’s so big and rude and coarse, and he’s making me feel things I’ve never experienced before, and I hate him a little for it.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “Should I stop?”
“No!” I throw my head back and cover my face with my arm. “Do it again.”
His chuckle fans hot breath over my pussy. “Do what, Dawn?”
Oh, the evil, wicked orc.
I lower my arm and glare at him. “Lick me.”
And he does. He does exactly what I ask of him and drags the flat of his hot tongue over my pearl again and again, then latches his lips on it and sucks. And I scream, pleasure breaking over me in waves, each thrust of his thick fingers prolonging my climax. Gorvor pushes a third finger into my squeezing pussy, and the feeling is incredible.
“See how well you take me,” he growls. “You’ll take my cock as well.”
He caresses me until I shiver and melt back into the sheets, spent and satisfied. Then he pulls his hand away, brings his fingers to his mouth, and licks my wetness off them.
I gasp at the lewdness of it, but he grins at me, satisfaction clear on his face.
“You taste like honey,” he says. “I knew you would.”
With all that pleasure coursing through me, I can’t even be properly outraged. “You’re terrible.”
He reaches between my legs again and swipes his fingers through my slick folds. “Ah, but good, too?”
I bite my lip and look up at him. “Yes. Very good.”
This time, he doesn’t lick his fingers clean. Instead, he wraps his hand around his cock and gives himself a firm stroke from root to tip. He hisses and sits back on his heels, displaying himself for me. “Will you watch me?”
I scramble upright and push my hair away from my face. “Yes.”
He jerks his hand over his cock in hard, almost rough movements. With his other hand, he palms the bulge at the bottom, squeezing it in time with his strokes.
“What is that?” I ask, drawing closer.
Gorvor slows and moves his hand to let me see. “My knot. You’ll take it when we fuck, and it’ll lock inside you, keeping us together.”
The thought of it draws a gasp from my lips. “For how long?”
He strokes his cock again, and a drop of his cum appears on the tip of his thick head, creamy and white. For some reason, my mouth waters at the sight, and I lift my gaze up to the king’s face before I do anything stupid. Like lick it.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “No one has ever taken my knot.”
I stare at him. “No one? You’ve never…fucked anyone before?”
I force myself to use the words he’s using, to name the act without embarrassment.
Gorvor gives me a dark chuckle in answer. “I have. But only my mate can take my knot.”
Oh my.
The thought of him pleasuring some other woman fills me with irrational, burning jealousy. I want to wipe those women from his mind and only have him think of me. He didn’t even want a human mate—he’d said as much when he’d first brought me to his room. But I’m here, and now that I’ve experienced what he has to give, I’m not so keen on leaving anymore.
“Can I try?” I ask, not wanting to lose my nerve. “Touching you, I mean?”
Gorvor’s mouth opens on a harsh exhale. “Aye. You are my mate. And I am yours.”
That statement fills me with so much vicious satisfaction. No one else will do this. This hard cock is all for me, and I will learn to bring him as much pleasure as he did to me. Because I want him to feel like I do—breathless with want. Trembling for a touch.
“Show me how,” I tell him.
The king takes my hands and wraps one around his shaft, the other around his knot. He squeezes to show me how much pressure he wants, and I imitate his movements until he growls in approval, his hips rocking up lightly.
“You’re so thick,” I whisper in awe.
My fingers can’t even reach all the way around his shaft, let alone the knot at the bottom. But for once, I’m not afraid—if he says I can take him, I believe him. I stroke my palm up his cock and swipe my thumb over the wetness at the tip, spreading it around to slick my palm. At the same time, I squeeze his knot, feeling the tension inside it. To have that locked in my pussy… It would keep us together, trapping his semen inside me.
And gods, the thought is erotic, forbidden.
I gaze up at Gorvor to find him staring down at me, his lips parted, his stern brow furrowed. He looks like he’s in pain, and I slow my movements, worry coursing through me that I’ve somehow messed up.
“Don’t stop,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.
Then he takes me by the back of my neck and hauls me in for a kiss, a claiming that has me whimpering into his mouth. He drinks in the sound, and it’s like something snaps inside him, some tether that has been holding him back. He lifts me easily in his arms, his hands splayed on my ass, and pulls me in so our bodies are flush. Jerking his hips into my tight grip, he fucks my hands over and over while rocking me in the same rhythm, as if he’s imagining plunging inside my pussy.
His cock thickens in my hand, and then he’s coming, spurting his seed all over my hands, my belly, my breasts. He roars, throwing his head back. The tendons straining in his neck are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I caused this. I made him come apart, and it’s glorious. Last night, he did this to himself, but I was too absorbed in my own sensations to really notice. Now I take stock of every little detail—the rise and fall of his massive chest, the sticky warmth of his cum, the possessive squeeze of his fingers on my ass.
Slowly, his breathing returns to normal, and he drops his head to my shoulder on a long exhale. His cock, semi-hard in my grip, seems spent, and suddenly, I don’t know what to do. I should clean myself off, but he’s still holding me, and I don’t want him to know how I feel. He would probably laugh if he knew I’m putting so much value in a simple act of bringing each other pleasure.
Only there’s nothing simple about it. I’ve never done anything like this, and it feels like my world has shifted. That I trusted him with my body, with my safety, is incredible for me, and I’m not sure how to express that with words.
“Oh, little mate.” Gorvor slowly lets go of me and deposits me on the bed. “Come on. Let’s wash together.”
It turns out I needn’t have worried. From the way he wraps his arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side, to how he helps me into the bathing pool and gently washes my body, the king shows me with his actions what human men try and fail to say with their flowery speeches and poetry. He’s patient with me, and by the time we’re done, I’m almost ready for another round of pleasure-making.
But he helps me put on my dress and ties the laces in the back. His deep-brown leather pants and weapons belt are a perfect outfit for a warrior, but this time, he doesn’t bother with his linen tunic.
“We are going on a hunt,” he informs me. “I will see you again in the evening.”
I stare at him, apprehension rising in me. “Am I not going with you?”
He lifts one eyebrow. “Can you hunt?”
I shake my head, almost embarrassed to admit it. My life back in the human world would have been much easier if I’d mastered the craft. I could have provided for myself.
“Then you’re not coming,” he says, his words final.
He opens a chest, draws out several daggers, and sheaths them on his weapons belt. Next comes his quiver of arrows, which he slings on his naked back, and a wicked-looking curved knife with an intricately carved bone handle. The king stands, picks up an unstrung bow from its holder on the wall, and walks over to me.
“See you tonight, little mate.”
He leans down and inhales deeply, rubbing his cheek against mine. It’s an intimate gesture, comforting without being sexual, and my poor, neglected heart gives a lurch. Without thinking, I go up on my tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his jaw. He gives me a warm smile and leaves, closing the door softly behind him.
The room sinks into silence, the earthen walls dampening all sound. I’m alone for the first time in weeks, so I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the tapestry covering the privy niche.
First, my throat closes up, and I swallow to get rid of the sensation, but it won’t budge. My life has been turned on its head, and I haven’t had even a moment’s peace to process it all. My eyes sting with hot tears, so I dash the edge of my sleeve over them, but it doesn’t help.
When will the king show his true nature? His words are surely deceitful, and they have me feeling things I have no business even thinking about. I’ve heard the stories. Orcs aren’t kind. They aren’t gentle. They take what they want by force, and doubting their ways will only bring me more grief later. It’s likely only a matter of time before he snaps and hurts me.
The tears come, fast and silent. I curl up on the king’s bed, his delicious scent rising around me, and I cry—for myself, for all the fear I’ve experienced, for the strange feelings that Gorvor has evoked in me.
My life will never be the same.
And I don’t know what to do.
