Page 33

“Here,” I whispered, guiding his fingertips to where I was already aching. “Like this. Just—just circle.”

He obeyed without a word, his movements light at first, then firmer as my breath caught and my hips rolled into his hand. A low sound escaped him, and he kissed my cheek, my throat, the hollow below my ear.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured. “Open and honest.”

I laughed softly, shaky. “Feels like I’m shaking apart.”

“You’re allowed to.”

He kissed the corner of my mouth, slow and sure, while his fingers worked in steady circles, coaxing more heat from me with every pass. I clung to his shoulders, breath hitching as he dipped lower, sliding through the wetness he’d drawn from me.

My thighs tensed around his wrist. He didn’t flinch—just shifted his angle slightly, brushing the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again until my legs were trembling.

“Keep going,” he said softly. “Tell me everything.”

It felt strange—unnatural, at first—to stay in control. To say out loud what I wanted instead of waiting for someone else to decide. But the more I spoke, the more it shifted inside me, the more I realized this wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t about proving anything. It was mine.

I let go of his hand, but he didn’t change his rhythm. He stayed exactly where I’d shown him, exactly how I’d asked, working soft, slow circles over my clit while heat built deep in my belly.

“More,” I said, voice low, shaky. “One finger. Gently.”

He kissed my thigh in response and eased a finger inside me. I didn’t brace for pain—I breathed through the stretch, held onto the feeling of fullness, of being listened to. Known.

“Another,” I told him when I was ready. “Slow.”

He groaned as he complied, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Issy…”

I didn’t flinch at the name. Didn’t hide. I pulled him up by the wrist and kissed him hard.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered against his mouth. “Keep going. I want to come like this—with your hand on me, because I told you to.”

His breath hitched. “Stars, say that again.”

I smiled, trembling now in the best way, hips rolling into his hand. “I want you to make me come,” I whispered. “Exactly the way I asked.”

His eyes darkened, like I’d lit something in him that ran deep and wild—but he held steady. Didn’t rush. Didn’t take.

His thumb slid back to where I was aching most, circling slow and tight while his fingers stroked deep and careful inside me. The way he moved was maddening—just enough pressure to keep me right at the edge but never pushing too far. He was holding me there on purpose, I realized. Waiting.

My hands gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscle there. “Don’t stop,” I gasped. “Please.”

He kissed the corner of my mouth, his voice low and reverent. “Not stopping. Not until you fall apart for me.”

The rhythm shifted just enough to tip me forward. He curled his fingers inside me, brushing something sharp and sweet that made my whole body jolt.

“There?” he asked.

“Stars—yes,” I breathed. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

I buried my face in his neck, moaning into his skin as heat coiled tighter and tighter. The sounds he made—soft groans, barely-there praises—pushed me further, made everything feel more real. More mine.

My hips rocked helplessly into his hand, chasing what I needed. He matched me stroke for stroke, never faltering, giving me exactly what I’d asked for.

And when it broke—when the pleasure crested and spilled through me—I didn’t shrink from it. I cried out, sharp and open, thighs clenching around his hand, my whole body arching as I came undone.

Uldrek held me through it, murmuring soft things against my skin that I couldn’t quite hear, just the shape of them: Yes. Good. I’ve got you .

My body shook in aftershocks, breath coming in gasps, skin flushed and damp. He didn’t rush me. Just held me, kissed my temple, his fingers easing out of me with aching gentleness.

When he lowered his head again and pressed a kiss to the underside of my breast, I groaned—less from the sensation than from the ache of being seen, felt, chosen like this. His mouth was soft, reverent. But then he paused.

I felt it, too. Dampness. A subtle wetness between my breasts, not born of arousal. My milk had let down—just slightly.

Embarrassment surged, old and immediate. I reached to cover myself, already bracing to apologize.

“I—I didn’t mean to—”

But Uldrek caught my wrist, gentle but firm.

“Don’t hide,” he said. “Don’t ever hide from me.”

He leaned forward, and before I could stop him, his tongue flicked across the swell of my breast, gathering a droplet that had welled there. His eyes met mine as he swallowed—slow, sure, utterly unbothered.

“This is part of you,” he murmured. “And I want all of you.”

My breath hitched. Something in me cracked open then, raw and startled. I had never been allowed to be whole in this space before. I had never been anything but something to be shaped—pleasing, useful, obedient.

But here I was, leaking and marked and touched and wanted.

He came over me then, slow and sure, bracing his weight on his forearms, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that was less about passion and more about grounding. Anchoring.

My legs opened for him without thought, just trust.

"I want you," I whispered against his mouth. "All of you."

He pulled back slightly, his expression serious. "I'm bigger than a human. It might be uncomfortable at first."

"I know." I touched his face, tracing the line of his jaw. "I trust you."

Those words—simple, honest—seemed to affect him deeply. His eyes darkened, and he leaned into my touch like a plant seeking sunlight.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said, positioning himself between my thighs.

I nodded, drawing him down for another kiss as the blunt head of him pressed against me. He entered slowly, giving me time to adjust to the stretch. It was intense—a fullness that bordered on discomfort at first—but not painful. He watched my face carefully, pausing whenever I tensed.

"All right?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

"Yes," I breathed. "More."

He pressed deeper, a groan escaping him as he filled me completely. For a moment, neither of us moved, adjusting to the sensation of being joined so intimately.

Then I shifted my hips, a silent request for him to move. He did, withdrawing slightly before pushing back in, establishing a slow, steady rhythm that had me gasping with each thrust.

"Good?" he asked, his face tense with concentration.

"Yes," I said, my hands finding his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex beneath my palms. "More. Harder."

He complied, his pace increasing, the sound of our breathing and the soft creak of the bed filling the room. The pleasure built again, different this time—deeper, fuller, more encompassing.

"Tell me," he urged, his voice rough. "Tell me what you need."

"You," I gasped. "Just—don't stop."

His hand slid beneath my thigh, lifting it to angle me deeper against him, and the next thrust made my whole body jolt.

I cried out, clutching at his shoulders.

His rhythm faltered only for a moment—like he’d memorized that sound, committed it to memory—then continued with purpose, driving into me in long, rolling strokes.

The stretch still made me ache, but it was a delicious ache, a reminder that I was alive, that I could feel this much and still want more.

"That's it," he said, his voice ragged. "You take me so well, Issy. You feel—" he broke off with a groan, bracing himself with one arm as his free hand slid between us.

I arched into his touch as he found that same rhythm again, his fingers circling my clit while his cock thrust deep and steady inside me. The pleasure coiled tight in my belly, sharp and sweet and impossibly full. I couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to.

"Right there," I whimpered. "Don't stop. Please—Uldrek—"

"I’ve got you," he said, and I believed him.

My second climax hit hard and fast, tearing through me like a tide. I sobbed his name, my whole body locking tight around him, trembling through every pulse of pleasure.

And then—

The mark on my shoulder flared. Not painfully, not bright—but unmistakably warm, as if someone had lit a tiny flame beneath my skin. Uldrek choked on a groan and collapsed into me, his hips stuttering.

“I felt that,” he panted. “Stars, I felt that.”

I nodded, dazed. “It glowed.”

He looked down at me, eyes wide, wonder-struck. “It’s never done that before.”

And then he was kissing me again, open-mouthed and reverent, as he thrust once more, deep and unyielding, and came with a shudder that shook the bedframe.

Neither of us moved for a long moment afterward.

The cottage was silent, save for the slow cadence of our breathing. His body blanketed mine, heavy but welcome, our limbs tangled. My skin still hummed with the echo of what had passed between us—raw, deliberate, honest in a way that left me breathless for reasons beyond physical need.

Uldrek exhaled softly and rolled to his side, one arm still looped loosely around my waist. He kissed my forehead and murmured something low in what I thought was Orcish.

I brushed back a strand of hair clinging to his brow. "What did you say just now?"

He blinked slowly. "Old battle-blessing. Orc patrols say it after surviving a fight."

"I didn't know this counted as combat," I teased gently, my voice hoarse.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “The most noble of all battles.”

I laid my head against his shoulder, letting his warmth soak into me. The world narrowed to the creak of floorboards settling in the rafters, the soft rustle of the cotton coverlet as he pulled it over us, and the distant murmur of wind moving through branches just outside the window.

We were drifting toward sleep when it happened.

A flicker of silver light, barely brighter than moonshine, caught my eye. One of Hobbie's protective charms—tucked into the window frame—had sparked to life for just a moment.

Uldrek noticed, too. He sat up, muscles tensing as he watched the window. The charm remained dark now, innocuous against the weathered wood. But the air in the room felt different—hushed, as if holding its breath.

Nothing followed. No further flares, no disturbance. Just that single warning pulse, like a ripple across still water.

After a long moment, Uldrek settled back down beside me, drawing me closer against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, but I could feel the slight change in his breathing—the warrior's instinct that never quite slept.

"We still have time," I whispered into the darkness.

His arms tightened around me. "Then we won't waste it."