Page 20

We slam into each other, the force of our frustration and pent-up longing fueling the collision.

Our mouths meet in a bruising kiss that is all heat and desperation, every ounce of anxiety poured into that heated contact.

She gasps, fingers twisting in the leather straps across my shoulders, and I press her back against the table laden with herbs.

The lantern’s glow trembles as I pull her back against me. Her breath catches—softer this time, unsteady with want instead of fury. My calloused hands trace the length of her spine, then splay at her waist, anchoring her as if I might lose her in the heat between us.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmur against her jaw. My tusks skim her cheek as I speak. “If this isn’t what you want?—”

“I want this,” she whispers, the words trembling but sure. “I want you.”

She cups my face, her fingers brushing the scar beneath my left eye. That simple touch, so unafraid, burns through me like a sacred fire. The look in her eyes isn’t just desire—it’s defiance and faith. In me.

I growl, deep and low, not out of anger but reverence. Then I take her mouth again.

This time, it’s slower—drawn out, deliberate.

I savor her. Her lips open to me, warm and pliant, her body molding to mine as if it’s always known this shape, this need.

My hands roam—over the curve of her hips, the slope of her thighs, the fabric separating us a nuisance I intend to strip away inch by inch.

I slide her tunic upward, baring skin that makes my chest seize. Sun-kissed and flushed, her belly trembles beneath my touch. She gasps when my calloused fingers graze just beneath her breast, and I pause, letting her decide if I go further.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes, arching toward me. “Please.”

I press my mouth to the underside of her jaw, then down her throat, letting my tusks drag along her skin until she shudders beneath me.

My tongue finds the hollow of her collarbone and lingers there, tasting salt and something uniquely her—sun and wildflowers and defiance.

Her nipples pebble through the linen, and I reach between us, tugging the fabric down until I see her—bare, flushed, beautiful.

Her breath hitches again when I take her breast in my palm, thumb brushing over the hardened peak. She moans softly, her hips shifting beneath me. Her fingers trail down my abdomen, unbuckling the heavy leather at my waist with purpose I didn’t expect.

“I want to see you,” she says, voice low. “All of you.”

I sit back on my knees, my cock already straining painfully against the bindings of my pants.

Her eyes widen as I begin to undo the ties.

When I finally let the garment fall away, she stares—not with fear, but with awe and something hungry.

My cock is thick, dark, veined, the head already slick with need.

Her gaze dips lower, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“I’ve never…” she starts, cheeks coloring.

“I know,” I say, voice rough. “You don’t need to say it.”

“Will it… fit?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

I chuckle, but there’s no mockery in it—just reverence. “I’ll make sure it does. I’d never hurt you, Lirienne.”

She nods once, swallowing hard. I reach for her again, settling between her thighs. I slide her undergarments off, dragging them slowly down her legs, taking my time to admire the soft, glistening heat waiting for me.

“Fuck,” I rasp, breath catching at the sight of her pussy, flushed and already wet.

Her thighs tense when I lower my head, but I give her one long look, waiting for a word, a nod. When she grips my shoulder and bites her lip, I dive in.

She cries out when my tongue meets her, a sweet, strangled sound that has my cock throbbing with need. I groan against her folds, tongue parting her slick heat, exploring her with greedy precision. She tastes like sin and surrender, like the sweetest offering I’ve ever been given.

“Ghorzag,” she gasps, fingers tangling in my hair. “Oh gods?—”

I wrap my arms around her thighs, holding her open, grounding her as I lap at her with a hunger that feels endless. Her pussy clenches with each flick of my tongue, and when I find the bundle of nerves at her center and suck gently, her back arches in a perfect bow.

“You’re shaking,” I murmur, dragging my mouth up her stomach, tasting the trail of her climax. “I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“I—I want you to,” she says, breathless, pulling me up until we’re chest to chest again.

Our bodies align as I position myself at her entrance. My cock throbs as I rub the head through her folds, watching her eyes flutter closed.

“Breathe,” I tell her. “Stay with me.”

She nods. I ease into her slowly, my jaw tightening as her slick heat stretches around me. Inch by inch, I push forward, giving her time to adjust. She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders, but she doesn’t tell me to stop.

“Lirienne,” I choke out. “You feel—fuck—you’re perfect.”

She clutches my arms, thighs trembling as I bury myself to the hilt.

“Oh gods,” she whispers, eyes glassy. “You’re so deep.”

I groan, pressing my forehead to hers. “I know. You’re taking me so well.”

For a moment, we don’t move. I let her adjust, let her body recognize mine. Then she shifts her hips and moans.

“That’s it,” I grit, starting to thrust slowly. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Full,” she gasps. “It’s… intense. I can feel everything.”

“That’s because you were made for me,” I growl, voice low and rough. “Your pussy—gods, it’s gripping me like you don’t want to let go.”

Her breath shudders. I thrust again, deeper this time, and her eyes roll back.

“Harder,” she pleads.

I obey. My hips snap forward, and the slap of skin against skin fills the tent. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, matching each driving stroke. Her walls flutter around me, and I know she’s close again.

“Come for me,” I snarl. “Let me feel you.”

She cries out, her body seizing around my cock, trembling through her release. The sight of her—eyes wild, mouth open, body arched in pleasure—undoes me.

I thrust a few more times before my own climax barrels through me, fierce and unstoppable. I bury my face in her neck and groan as I spill inside her, hips bucking, every muscle taut.

Caught in the throes of sensation, we cling to each other, anger giving way to relief, fear turning into a vulnerability we share with no one else.

For a heartbeat, it feels like a sacred vow—far deeper than the alliance the clan demanded.

Here, in the hush between gasps, we confront the raw truth: we are more than chieftain and captive bride, more than orc and human.

We are two souls colliding in the midst of chaos.

Eventually, our frantic pace slows, the crescendo ebbing into a trembling aftermath.

Her body sinks against mine, heartbeats thudding in unison.

My forehead presses to hers, sweat mingling on our skin.

No words come, but none are needed. We stay like that for a long moment, breaths ragged, the lantern’s soft light throwing our shadows against the tent walls.

As the haze of passion lifts, reality seeps back in.

My arms still wrap around her, I feel her breathing steady, but the tension returns like a creeping chill.

The clan’s crisis hasn’t vanished. The sabotage is still real, the water still tainted.

The War God’s rumored wrath hovers over everything, and we have just tangled ourselves in a new, complicated bond.

She lifts her head, eyes shining with a mix of wonder and unease. “Ghorzag,” she whispers, voice thick. “What did we just?—?”

I close my eyes briefly. “Something neither of us planned.” My own heart hammers, the enormity sinking in. I’m the chieftain, and this act carries massive consequences. If the clan discovers how deeply our alliance now runs, suspicion might intensify rather than ease.

She seems to read my thoughts. Carefully, she lifts herself from my arms, tugging the edge of a blanket to cover her shoulders. “They’ll suspect,” she murmurs, half to herself.

“They already suspect everything,” I say, bitterness creeping in. “And this… might give them new fuel.”

Her face pales. “I never wanted to make things worse.”

I push upright, forcing the swirling mess of emotions aside.

“We’ll handle it.” The words feel hollow, but I try to inject confidence.

Carefully, I reach for her hand. “What happened here… it doesn’t solve the sabotage or the clan’s panic.

But it changes—” I pause, grappling for the right words. “It changes us.”

She nods, biting her lower lip. “It does.” Her gaze flickers with a swirl of tenderness and worry. “I won’t regret it,” she adds, softly. “No matter what happens.”

My chest tightens at the admission, a warmth flooding me. “Nor will I.”

Yet the sense of urgency remains. I can’t linger in this fleeting intimacy while my clan is in peril.

Swallowing hard, I begin reassembling my clothing—buckling my vest, adjusting the bracers on my wrists.

My mind already churns with how to handle the tainted cistern and quell rumors that might explode once the clan learns their water is unsafe.

Lirienne mirrors my motions, dressing quietly. The air between us still vibrates with unspoken longing, but the pragmatic orc in me recognizes we have no time to dwell. Once fully clothed, she turns to me, arms wrapped around her middle as if to ward off the chill.

“Stay,” she says, voice trembling. “Just… for a moment.”

I yearn to. But a chieftain’s duty won’t allow it. “I must reassure the clan before chaos takes root.” My tone is gentler than usual, though. “But I promise you—I’ll come back.”

She searches my eyes, then nods. “All right. And Ghorzag… please be careful.”

A grim smile forms on my face. “Always.”