Page 31 of Fated to the Orc

I want it.

No. Ineedit.

I reach for him, wrapping my hand around that thick, pulsing shaft again. “Your turn,” I say breathlessly, eager to feel him in my mouth.

Varkul grabs my wrist instead, his eyes filled with heat.

“No,” he says. “Our turn.”

Then he lifts me off the bed like I weigh nothing.

I knowexactlywhat’s coming next.

Evelyn

Varkul lifts me effortlessly,like I weigh no more than a feather. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and I feel his cock press against my entrance — thick, heavy, and so damnhard.

“Do you think you can take me?” He asks, his forehead resting against mine. Despite the hunger in his voice, there’s a thread of restraint. Ofconcern.

He could simply take me. He could claim my body as his. He’s stronger than I’ll ever be. But instead, he’s asking.

“Yes,” I whisper back. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

A low, satisfied growl. “Good. Because once I take you, my little mate… I don’t intend to stop.”

My body clenches at those words. I don’t want him to stop. Notever.

The orc lowers me down onto the edge of the bed. His cock presses against my entrance, thick and heavy, and my breath falters.

Varkul slides the tip along my folds, slow and deliberate, teasing me until I’m trembling. My nails dig into his arms.

“Please,” I gasp.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with restraint.

“You won’t”

He watches me for a moment longer, like he’s memorizing every detail of my face — and then he pushes in.

My mouth falls open. My breath stops.

He’s huge.

The stretch is incredible, almost too much — but it’s just perfect. My body yields to him inch by inch, taking him deeper, making me fuller than I’ve ever been before.

The pressure, the fullness… it’s completely overwhelming, and I can’t help the needy sounds that slip from my lips.

The orc warlord groans as he sinks deeper into me, his jaw clenched tightly, beads of sweat on his brow.

“You were made for me,” he rasps.

Tears prick my eyes. Not from the pain, but from the sheer intensity of him. Ofus.

When he bottoms out, buried to the hilt inside of me, we stay still for a moment. Just breathing. Just feeling.

Then he starts to move.

Slow, deep thrusts at first. Testing, letting my body adjust to him. And then faster. Harder.

---