Gorvor coaxes another screaming climax from me before coming deep inside me. Then he carries me to the bathing pool where we cuddle and kiss until his knot finally subsides and I can slip off him. We wash each other, reluctant to leave the warm embrace of the water. But I’m dead tired, so he bundles me up in a blanket and carries me back to bed, where he shifts me to the side and fits his hot, muscular body behind me.
I don’t complain—in fact, I sleep soundly and without nightmares again. And when I wake, the king is right there with me.
“Good morning,” he rumbles and rolls on his back.
He grabs my hips and lifts me on top of his chest, so I put my hands beneath my chin and get comfortable on my stomach, looking down at him.
I take a deep inhale, closing my eyes in bliss. “How is it that you smell so nice? I’ve only seen you use the same soap I’ve been using, and that’s not the scent I’m getting.”
He palms the backs of my thighs and caresses the soft skin there. “What do I smell like to you?”
I wiggle higher and put my nose right up to his neck. “Like I’m standing in the middle of the forest. With damp earth and fresh tree scents. But also of fire. Of a warm, cozy fire. It reminds me of—”
Biting my tongue, I stop myself and press my cheek against his shoulder, trying to hide my blush. I was going to say it reminds me of home, which is strange, because the only home I ever remember having definitely never smelled like that.
“Tell me,” he commands.
I swallow past a suddenly tight throat. “You smell like home.”
His hands still on my ass, and I get the feeling he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Orcs are so much more used to touching each other that his caresses aren’t really sexual, not now.
He hums deep in his chest. “To me, you smell of freshly baked honey cakes. The kind the cook only ever makes on my name day. And of sweet summer flowers.” He lets out a huff. “Every breath I take is a celebration.”
Tears fill my eyes, and no matter how much I blink, I can’t stop them from falling. When I sniffle and try to hide it, Gorvor lifts his head and looks down at me.
“Ah, little mate,” he says, sounding dismayed. “What did we say about crying?”
“No tears,” I hiccup. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”
Only I don’t. I cry harder, the emotions pouring out in a rush. Without a tissue to hide behind, I cover my face with my hands and try to slip away from Gorvor to keep him from witnessing my blubbering.
But he gently sets me on the bed by his side and pries my hands away from my eyes. He kisses away my tears and dabs at my face with the corner of the bedsheet, clumsy but earnest. And suddenly, I understand—he doesn’t hate crying, he just has no idea how to deal with me when I’m sad.
“Will you hold me?” I croak. “That will help me the most.”
Immediately, he wraps his big arms around me and tucks me against his chest. Under the wool covers, our cocoon is almost unbearably warm, but I wouldn’t leave it for the world. My sobbing subsides, and I hiccup, then wipe my tears and press a kiss in the center of Gorvor’s chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
A long, long time has passed since anyone held me when I was upset. I can’t even remember the occasion, and that brings fresh pain to my heart, because I haven’t let myself admit that I craved it. So much.
And now that I’m here, in the king’s bed, in his arms, I’m afraid of what it might do to me if he ever decides he doesn’t want me after all. To taste this closeness—not only the pleasure of sex but this intimate embrace, offering comfort—is wonderful, but losing it would rip me apart. Everything has happened so fast, with Gorvor insisting I’m his mate, but I don’t even know what it means, not really.
I want to spend the whole day here, pretending my past doesn’t exist, but my body demands I take care of it. I’m sore from our…fucking last night. The hot water helped, but as much as I wish to get Gorvor’s cock inside me again, I think giving myself some rest would be a good idea.
“Are you hurt?” he asks when he notices my wince as I get up from bed to use the privy.
“No,” I say quickly, but at his doubting look, I amend, “Not much. Just a little tender.”
His brows furrow, and he hunches his broad shoulders. “I didn’t want that. I was too rough with you.”
I return to his side and palm his face with both hands. “No. You were perfect. And I love how big you are. You filled me up so good. And it felt amazing.”
He grips my waist, but I dance away from him.
“I do need to use the bathroom first,” I tell him, blushing. “Then I’ll be ready for more.”
But when I duck behind the tapestry to relieve myself, the slide of the bolts and the door opening and closing send a jolt through me. After I’m done, I dart back out—and find the room empty.
Gorvor has left.
The pang of disappointment takes me by surprise. I was sure he was going to demand more, maybe even take the morning off to spend it in bed with me.
I wash and dress in fresh clothes that someone has brought for me. Orcs seem intent on cleanliness, which makes sense considering their much more sensitive noses, so I take care of myself as well, not wanting to be known as the filthy human. I’m different enough as it is, and all I want to do is blend in and make myself less conspicuous.
I don’t know why I expected more from the king. He must have important duties to take care of, much more pressing than attending to his mate’s whims. Still, my good mood sours.
I’m braiding my hair when the door swings open and Gorvor strides in, shirtless and looking too good to be allowed.
When have I stopped thinking about him as a brute and started being so damn attracted to him? The breadth of his shoulders no longer intimidates me, and the scars on his skin only spur my curiosity. His tusks don’t seem so scary anymore, either. I want to dig my fingers into his long black hair and press myself to his muscled chest.
He frowns as he sets his gaze on me. “Are you going somewhere?”
My mouth is full of hairpins, so I remain silent for a minute and finish sticking them into my braided crown. Then I look up at him from my perch on the bed. “I thought you’d left.”
I don’t want to sound whiny and petulant, yet I can’t help but pout a little. What else was I supposed to think?
Gorvor walks to the bed, towering over me. He bends down and runs his thumb over my lower lip, something like amusement and affection lighting up his dark eyes. Up close, I notice his black eyelashes and the warm, earthy browns of his irises. My heart stutters, and warmth coils in my belly at his attention.
“Don’t worry, Dawn,” he rumbles. “I’m here.”
Then he kisses me, his rough tongue invading my mouth, seducing me slowly with each thorough lick. I’m panting by the time he pulls back and wordlessly offers me a cloth bag with something bulky in it.
I take it, curiosity getting the better of me. It makes a clinking sound, and when I open the top, I find three jars inside.
Handling them with care, I place them on the messy covers. “What are these?”
Gorvor sits next to me and taps the first jar, filled with crushed herbs. “This is the fertility tea. The herbalist insisted I take it when I came asking for this.” He points to a small pot of greenish goop.
“And what is this?” I ask, looking up at him.
His lips twist in a wicked smile. “A salve. For your pussy.”
Heat slams into my cheeks, and I jerk my hand back from where I was reaching for the pot. “What?”
“You said you were sore,” he explains, “so I got you something to soothe the pain and help you heal.”
“Oh.” I cover my face with my hands, mortified and touched at once. “Thank you.”
He tugs my hands away and gives me another devastating kiss. Then he breaks the connection and motions at the third jar. “That one is different.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. He shifts closer to me and lifts me into his lap. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck, and his big palms land on my ass, pulling me closer. The hard ridge of his erection presses against my thigh, letting me know how much he wants me.
“It’s a tea to keep you from getting pregnant,” he murmurs. “She almost didn’t want to give it to me, but I insisted.”
I stare wordlessly up at him. That he would get me such a thing…
Gorvor’s smile tugs up on one side. “Everyone is keen for their king to produce many heirs. Fat little babies, ready to learn all they can.” He brushes his fingers over my cheek and tucks my hair behind my ear. “But I know you might not be ready. I hope you will not drink this tea but I want you to have the choice.”
His expression seems pained, as if it’s physically hurting him to admit this. My heart swells, and I bury my face in his neck, overwhelmed.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For thinking of me.”
Nobody has ever put me and my wishes first. Not my parents, not the innkeeper I worked for, and certainly none of the men I’d had the displeasure to meet. But this huge orc… He understands me better than anyone.
I loosen my grip on him and peer up through my eyelashes. “Will you…”
I want to say the words, but they won’t leave my lips. It’s too scandalous, even after everything we’ve done together.
He takes my chin and lifts it. “What is it?”
Oh, why not?
“Will you help me apply the salve?” I blurt, flushing all over my skin.
He hums, and his grip on my waist tightens. “Is that what you want? For me to take care of your pussy?”
I nod, breathless. “Please.”
He tosses me on the bed with one effortless push, and I land on the pillows, giggling. His eyes glitter with heat as he picks up the small pot.
“Lie back,” he commands. “And close your eyes.”
I start to protest—I want to see whatever he’ll do to me—but he taps my ankle impatiently, waiting for me to obey. Huffing, I lean back and close my eyes.
Instantly, all my other senses intensify, and I experience every touch, every scent as if it’s magnified. Gorvor slides his palms up my calves, pushing up the skirts of my dress. Then he guides my knees apart, and I gasp at what I imagine I must look like, bared to him completely.
He leans in, and his hot breath on my sex is the only warning I get before he spreads me with his fingers and licks a long line over my pussy. I cry out, trying to close my legs, but he’s there, wedged rudely between my thighs.
“Shh,” he says. “Let me do this for you.”
He licks my pearl, teasing it with flicks of his tongue, then pushing me higher with long, luxurious laps. I plead to have his fingers, too, or his cock, but he doesn’t give me what I want.
“Later,” he promises between sucking my bud. “I will fill you up, and you will take it, but first, you need to heal.”
He brings me to a climax, coaxing it out of me in an embarrassingly short time. At this point, I don’t have to force myself to close my eyes—I’m spent and happy to lie back and let him do all the work.
The fresh scent of herbs invades my nose, and I realize he must have uncapped the salve. The first touch of his fingers to my oversensitive pussy has me jerking in surprise. The salve is cool against my hot flesh, and it tingles slightly. Whatever is in it is more potent than just the herbs I scent—I’ve heard whispers of mages still hiding in the forests of Bellhaven, but I’d thought that was just a rumor.
Maybe some of the stories circulating through taprooms in the human world are true after all.
Gorvor teases my pussy, then gentles me with a hand to my belly and spreads the ointment all over my tender flesh. He pushes one long finger inside me, and I swear he hooks it up at just the right spot, drawing a gasp from me.
“You’re an evil orc,” I complain, finally peeking at him. “You’ll leave me as needy as I was before this.”
He chuckles. “And I will be uncomfortable all day with a hard cock, thinking of your tight little sheath.”
I bite my lip, an idea forming in my mind. I wait for him to finish his task. He smooths my skirts back down and gives an almighty sigh.
“I must return to my duties,” he rumbles. “Even if I wish we could remain here for days, fucking and sleeping.”
I sit up and take his hand. “But can your duties wait a while longer?”
He smiles, and for the first time, I notice a slight dimple in his cheek, beneath the black stubble. “What did you have in mind?”
A shiver runs through my body, but I make myself say the words out loud. “Will you let me…lick you? Like you did with me just now?”
