Page 42

Vorgath's eyes never left my face as he pushed deeper, watching my reactions carefully, gauging how my body responded to him. His other hand came up to stroke the side of my face, a contrast of tenderness against the sinful pleasure building below.

“See?” he rasped, his voice barely containing the strain. “You're already taking me so well... but this is just the beginning.”

I moaned, unable to form a coherent response. Instead, I rocked my hips against his hand, desperate for more, desperate to fully give in to the sensation.

His finger began to move then, sliding in and out of me with a pace that was almost torturous. He added a slow, twisting motion that made me clench around him, my breath hitching again as that unbearable heat coiled low in my belly, growing hotter and tighter with every stroke.

“You're doing so well,durlan.” The way the word rumbled from his throat made warmth spread through my chest even as the ache intensified.

His thumb brushed deliberately against the swollen bud between my legs, and stars—actualstars—flashed beneath my eyelids.

“I... I can’t—” I gasped, arching into his hand, feeling myself unraveling again at the edges. He tugged gently on my hair with his other hand, the sharp sensation only adding to the recklessness bubbling inside me.

“You can,” Vorgath whispered, his tusks brushing against my temple.

With another twist of his thumb, the pressure snapped, releasing a torrent of heat and pleasure that rushed through me, wave after wave. My body tightened around his finger, gripping him as if I couldn't bear to let go, every nerve igniting in a firestorm of sensation. I cried out, the sound swallowed by the night's cool air and the solid wall of muscle that was Vorgath, holding me steady as I shattered in his arms.

My head fell back, my breathless laughter once again bubbling up uncontrollably. “By the Alders, Vorgath…”

He withdrew his finger slowly, reverently, as if savoring every second. His hand stayed warm where it rested against my hip, grounding me as my pulse slowed, returning me to reality.

“If that was practice…” I began, still out of breath, “I’d like a lifetime of it.”

He chuckled low in his throat but shook his head. “You’ll tire of lessons if you’re not careful.”

I raised an eyebrow, emboldened by the heat still pooling low in my stomach. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Vorgath kept his hand firm on my waist and leaned in, his lips hovering just above mine, his breath hot. “We’ll see just how strong that claim holds up when the real work begins,durlan.”

I shivered at the promise behind his words. His tusks brushed against my cheek, hinting at future pleasures I could barely begin to contemplate.

But then, with a sigh that had weight to it, Vorgath took a small step back. His body still radiated that intoxicating warmth, but now there was resolve etched into his features, even deeper than the scars that marred his skin. He helped me straighten my skirt and then lace my dress, tucking all parts of me away again.

“Come,” he said, guiding me away from the shadows of the alley and back into the ambient glow of the festival. “You should rest.”

I frowned, reluctant to lose even an inch of him. “Rest?”

“Aye.” His deep voice rumbled against the backdrop of the crowd, now more distant as the stalls and fire-eaters continued their revelry without us. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I blinked up at him. “For what?”

His lips twitched up in a knowing smile—the kind of smile that was rare from him, but when it appeared? Well. It set my entire body ablaze all over again.

“For more practice,” he finally replied.

I stared at him for a moment, my mind still foggy, muscles weak but eager, pulsing from everything that had just happened. A laugh—soft, tired but undoubtedly content—escaped me as I shook my head.

“Well, I suppose practice does make perfect,” I teased.

Vorgath’s eyes glimmered in the soft light of the festival, and for a fleeting moment, I could see it—just under the surface of his quiet, stoic demeanor. The craving. The pulling weight of restraint and the tug of something he wanted just as much as I did.

But instead of giving in to it, he merely nodded, that ghost of a smile still on his lips as he placed a warm, steadying hand at my back and guided me through the drifting crowd.

One glimpse over my shoulder, back at the shadowed alley, and I knew something inside me had irrevocably shifted. The forge wasn’t the only thing feeling the heat these days. The idea of what tomorrow might bring made my pulse kick up all over again. And oh, Seven… I wanted to see just how many more lessons there were to learn with him.

Or, at the very least, how many times we could go over the first one.

Chapter 17