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“You're impossible,” I groaned, but it came out more like a moan, a soft surrender.

“Yes,” he said simply, dragging his mouth back down, tantalizingly close to where I wanted him most.

His large hands slid up, pushing the fabric of my tunic higher, exposing the soft curve of my stomach. I felt the rasp of his fingertips drag across my skin as he continued to inch the garment up, his mouth following the path his hands had set. He pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses over my navel, my ribs, my breasts, until finally, the fabric was gone, tossed aside with little ceremony, leaving me bare before him.

Vorgath pulled back for just a moment, taking in the sight of me sprawled out on the bed, his gaze smoldering as his breath grew heavy. His eyes traced over me slowly, lingering on the place where his mark stood out against my skin. In the flickering firelight, the scar was barely visible, a faint line just over my collarbone, but to orc eyes, it was unmistakable—a sign of his claim, his promise.

“You are...” He paused, leaning closer. “Beautiful.”

And like always, Ibelievedhim, not because of the words themselves, but because of the way he showed me—through every action, every touch, every heated gaze. It was there in the way his hands, rough with the strength of a warrior, softened when they reached for me. It was in the way he knelt before me now, kissing along my hip, reverent, determined.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he lowered his head, and I felt the first touch of his tongue, a soft, gentle stroke that made me gasp and arch off the bed. Vorgath growled, pleased with my reaction, his grip tightening slightly as he heldme steady, his tongue continuing its slow, torturous dance, each movement deliberate—savoring me.

I buried my hands in the sheets, trying to ground myself as my body trembled beneath his touch. He was always in control—steady, patient—but I felt wild, lost in the storm of sensation he was stirring within me.

“Vorgath, please,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper, but full of need.

He paused just long enough to smirk, his lips brushing against my sensitive skin as he murmured, “I thought you liked it when I took my time.”

“I—” My words faltered as he dragged his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes, and the world seemed to tilt around me. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. “I do.”

He chuckled softly, the sound dark and tempting, his hands sliding under me to pull me closer, even as his mouth continued its maddeningly slow exploration. I was caught between begging for more and luxuriating in the torment, lost in the heated tension. There was no urgency in his actions—only understanding. He knew me, knew what I needed, even before I did.

He slid one large finger inside me, and I moaned at the intrusion, my body clenching around him. He moved slowly at first, then faster, his finger curling and stroking in just the right way to make me see stars. He added a second finger, stretching me, preparing me. It was familiar now, the way he coaxed my body into accommodating his. The way we fit together.

And every time, it felt like the first.

I reached for him, wanting to feel the heat of his skin under my hands, to pull him closer, deeper. He growled low in his throat at my touch, his need mirroring my own. He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, and I whimpered at the loss, but then he was standing again, removing his trousers, revealing the full,powerful length of his body. The sight of him—bared, primal, and utterly mine—sent a new wave of heat surging through me.

Vorgath climbed onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress, one hand braced beside my head as the other dragged up my thigh, spreading me wider beneath him. His deep, molten eyes locked onto mine, a question hanging there, though we both already knew the answer.

“Yes,” I whispered, breathless. “Now.”

That was all he needed.

He lined himself up, the familiar weight of him pressing against me, and with a slow, all-consuming stroke, he sank into me, his low groan mingling with the sharp gasp that left my lips.

Our bodies seemed to meld together as he filled me. Every inch of him pulsed with restraint, reminding me that even though we had done this countless times, it was never rushed, never taken for granted.

Vorgath stilled for a moment, his forehead gently resting against mine, savoring the way I clenched around him. His breath was warm, ragged, grazing my parted lips. He waited, allowing me to adjust, before slowly pulling back and thrusting forward again, setting a deliberate, torturously slow rhythm that drove every sensation deeper.

“Does this…” He exhaled sharply, his voice a strained rasp, “Feel good,durlan?”

I couldn't form words, the pleasure locking up my ability to speak. Instead, I responded with a deep, needy groan that made his hips buck just a little harder. I reached up, my hands roaming the firm expanse of his back, tracing the scars and ridges of his skin. These were the marks of his past, of battles won and lost, each one a story that defined him. And now, I was woven into that story.

A part of him.

He thrust deeper, his movements building slowly, purposefully, and I felt the tightening warmth pool at the base of my spine, the pressure building impossibly higher.

“Vorgath, I’m—” I couldn’t finish, but he knew. He always knew.

His grip on my thighs tightened, rough hands pulling me even closer as he quickened his pace, the rhythmic slide of him inside me drawing pleasure from places I didn’t know could feel so alive.

“Yes,” he groaned, burying his face in my neck. “Now.” His pace quickened as he rolled his hips while thrusting deep, the raw intensity of him pushing me straight to the edge.

Pleasure spiraled out of me, engulfing my senses as my body convulsed around him. My back arched with a hoarse, breathless cry as the climax tore through me, waves of heat and sensation radiating from where we were joined.

Vorgath groaned deep in his chest, his pace never faltering as he chased his own release, his hips slamming against me. My hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as I rode out the aftershocks, my legs trembling on either side of him.