Page 26 of Her Rugged Orcs

Eira's breath comes in short gasps against my mouth, her fingers still tangled in my hair, when a low, dangerous growl cuts through the air. The sound raises the hair on the back of my neck – primal, possessive, threatening. Dren.

I break the kiss but keep Eira pressed against me, my large hands spanning her ribcage. She trembles slightly as I turn my head toward the entrance.

Dren stands in the shadows, his silver eyes gleaming like deadly stars in the darkness. Rain drips from his long dark hair, running down his brown-green skin in rivulets that catch the firelight. His muscles are coiled tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The way he looks at Eira makes something primitive stir in me – recognition of another predator eyeing what's mine.

But there's more than just want in his gaze. There's pain there, raw and deep, that makes my possessive grip on Eira falter. The beast within me wars with itself – wanting to protectwhat's mine but understanding the hunger in his eyes all too well.

Thunder crashes outside, matching the tension crackling through the air between us. None of us move. None of us speak. The only sounds are the rain, the crackling fire, and Eira's quickened breathing against my chest.

19

EIRA

Adeep growl echoes through the ruins, and I turn my head to see Dren, water dripping from his dark hair. His eyes lock onto mine, and something dangerous flashes across his face.

My heart pounds as he approaches. He says nothing, but his presence fills the space between us all. His hand reaches out, touching my shoulder from behind. A shudder runs through me at the contact.

The realization hits me like lightning - I want them. All of them. Right now. The raw desire coursing through my veins is overwhelming and unfamiliar. The thought of being with all three of them should terrify me, but instead, it fills me with a wild sort of power.

"I won't choose," I declare, my voice steady despite the thunder of my heart.

"This isn't a game, Eira," Murok warns, but his eyes betray his hunger.

I lift my chin. "No, it's not. For once, I'm making my own choice."

"We don't share," Grash growls, his fingers tightening on my waist.

I laugh, sharp and clear. "You don't get to decide that." I turn my head to meet Dren's intense gaze. "None of you do."

"This is dangerous," Dren murmurs, his first words since entering, but his hand doesn't leave my shoulder.

"I've lived in danger my whole life." I step back from Grash's grip and Dren’s touch, facing all three of them. "I'm done being owned." My chin lifts. "If you want me, it's on my terms."

Murok leans forward, his blue eyes glinting. "And what are your terms?"

"All or nothing," I say, watching their faces. "I won't be a prize to fight over."

The air grows thick with tension as they exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them. For once, I'm not the one being controlled – I'm the one in control.

"You think you can handle three orcs?" Murok asks, his tone challenging.

I smile, feeling the power coursing through me. "I think you're the ones who need to worry about handling me."

My heart hammers as I turn to Dren first. His eyes widen the faintest fraction. I step forward, my fingers brushing his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his tunic. His breath hitches, a rare sound from the quiet orc.

"On your back," I command softly.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, his gaze searching mine. Then, without a word, he lowers himself to the stone floor, his dark hair splaying out around him. I remove my silk dress, letting it pool to the floor, and then I kneel over him. My hands brace against his chest. His eyes never leave mine, intense and unblinking, and I feel the tension in his body, coiled but restrained.

I tug at the ties of his pants, my fingers trembling slightly despite my determination. His cock springs free, thick and heavy, already hard for me. I let out a shaky breath, my ownarousal evident between my thighs. I adjust myself over him, guiding him to my entrance, and sink down slowly, inch by inch. The stretch burns in the best way, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

Dren’s hands twitch at his sides, but he doesn’t touch me, letting me take control. I begin to move, rocking my hips, my fingers digging into his chest for balance. His breath comes faster now, his eyes darkening with desire. I lean forward, my hair brushing his face.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, but he doesn’t try to take over. I set the pace, slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation. My pleasure builds with each thrust, my body tightening around him. When I finally come, my back arches, my head thrown back, and I cry out, the sound echoing through the ruins. Dren’s hips jerk upward as he spills inside me, his hands finally gripping my thighs, holding me in place.

I collapse against his chest, my breathing ragged, and feel his lips brush the top of my head.

I push myself up, my legs still trembling, and move toward Murok. He’s leaning against a crumbling pillar, watching me with a smirk. "Impressive," he says, his tone light but his eyes dark with hunger.

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