Page 36 of Savage Devotion (Orc Warrior Romances #2)
Reverence. The way he touches me suggests something sacred, not in the formal religious sense but in the deeper recognition of significance. Physical intimacy that honors what exists between us rather than simply expressing it.
"Are you certain?" The question carries layers about this moment, this choice, this irrevocable step into an intimacy that will change everything that follows.
Always asking. Even here, even now, still offering me the chance to retreat or reconsider. The consideration itself provides the answer: someone who questions rather than assumes, who prioritizes my choice over his desire, has already earned whatever trust I offer.
"Completely."
No reservations. The certainty that's been building through weeks of partnership and conflict and gradual recognition finally crystallizes into absolute clarity. This choice, this man, this future we're constructing together.
His hands continue their exploration, tracing patterns across my skin that turn goosebumps into pathways of sensation. Each touch carries intention, communicates without words the depth of his feeling. The water supports us, its warmth a counterpoint to the growing heat between us.
He takes his time, allowing anticipation to build rather than rushing toward a conclusion.
Fingertips trail along my collarbone, pause at the sigils there, then continue downward with the same reverence he might give to sacred text.
The comparison isn't accidental as my body has become something holy to him, worthy of careful study and profound respect.
When his mouth follows the path his hands have traced, the sensation doubles. Warm water and warmer breath, gentle pressure and the promise of more. My head falls back, supported by the river's embrace, as he maps the landscape of my shoulders and chest with lips and tongue.
The luxury of time stretches before us, an evening without demands or expectations beyond what we create.
His exploration continues downward, hands spanning my waist before continuing their journey.
The water's resistance turns every movement into a deliberate choice, making each touch something we move toward rather than something that simply happens.
I reach for him my hands learning the topography of his body with equal care.
The scars that mark his torso tell stories I've heard in fragments.
Each ridge of healed flesh carries memory, but under my fingers they become something new, something ours.
The tattoos that cover his arms pulse faintly with his heartbeat, responding to my touch with a glow that illuminates the water .
The water around us glows faintly where our bodies touch, responding to the magic that exists between us.
Not just the physical connection but something deeper, something that encompasses the bond we've forged through conflict and commitment.
The river accepts our presence, its currents flowing around us rather than against us, as if the very landscape recognizes the significance of this moment.
Kaelgor's hands find my hips, grounding me as his mouth continues its journey. When he finally reaches the place where my thighs meet, the anticipation has built to something nearly unbearable. His breath against that most sensitive part of me makes my entire body tighten with want.
The way he touches me here carries the same reverence as everywhere else, but with an added intensity that speaks to the depth of his desire.
His tongue finds the center of my need, and the world narrows to that single point of contact.
The water supports me as my body responds to his attention, waves of pleasure building with each deliberate movement of his mouth.
My hands find his shoulders, grounding myself as the sensations grow more intense.
He reads my body's responses with the same precision he brings to battlefield tactics, adjusting pressure and rhythm to match what I need in this moment.
The river's embrace and his mouth's attention combine to create a world where nothing exists beyond this connection.
When the pleasure crests, it does so gradually, a wave building from deep within rather than crashing from without.
My cry echoes off the stone walls, becomes part of the river's song, another voice in the chorus of memory this place carries.
Kaelgor's arms support me through it, holding me steady as my body trembles with release.
Our bodies fit together with a rightness that echoes the commitment we've made in every other way. The river's current flows around us, its warmth matching the heat that builds where we're joined. Each movement carries intention, communicates without words the depth of what exists between us.
His rhythm builds gradually, matching the pace the water sets. We move together, our bodies finding harmony as the passion explodes. The river's voice joins ours, the sound of water over stone becoming part of the music we create.
When release comes, it comes together as a shared cresting that leaves us breathless and connected.
The water supports us as we recover, its warmth a gentle contrast to the intensity of what we've just shared. Our bodies remain entwined even as the waves of pleasure recede, we aren’t willing to break this physical connection.
Afterward, we float together in water that cradles rather than demands, starlight painting patterns across the surface that shift with every slight movement.
"No going back." The words echo the thought I had during the ceremony, but carry different weight now. Not warning but promise, the recognition that some choices reshape everything that follows.
"No going back." Kaelgor's agreement carries satisfaction rather than resignation.