Page 25 of One Forbidden Night with Her Orc Boss

Slowing down, I put all my focus on her pleasure, listening to her breath, repeating all the things she likes. Grinding against my face, she comes. Buries her face against the base of my shaft and calls my name. “Such a good girl. That’s how it’s done.”

As soon as she’s done contracting, I roll her off me and spin to crawl atop her. Her arm rests over her face as I kiss along her collarbone. Then along her jawline, licking up the wetness—a mix of saliva and precum. “You’re delicious. Sweet. Juicy. Mine.”

Arm off her face, she gasps at my side, pulling me into her. “I want more. I need you inside me.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words since the cliff.” And with that, I thrust into her wet, needy pussy. It clenches with each thrust, making me feel both like a king and so weak that she holds such power over me.

We move together, a symphony of our own making, quiet so as not to wake Lucy, but more alive than when I’m dangling from the top of a mountain. Her hands scratch along my back, and I want to roar at the pleasure each scrape brings me.

Palming her breasts, I’m amazed yet again that I’m here. With my mate. Her fingers drag their way down to my ass, pushing me in against her harder. “That’s it. Take your pleasure.” There’s something so delicious about getting to teach Tasha about how to take pleasure for herself. I move how she wants, responding to each tug and push until her back is arched and she’s panting her second orgasm. Thrust harder, making sure she’s satisfied, I come, tucking my face into the crook of her neck, roaring my pleasure into the pillow.

Tasha won’t let me go as she whimpers her aftershocks of pleasure. Stroking her hair, I tell her again just how good she is, how well she takes me.

“You’re not just saying that?” she asks.

“We just had the best sex of my life. Please don’t be embarrassed now. You’re my mate. I want to lick every inch of you. Suck you until you cry in pleasure.”

Her kiss is earnest, but I feel the need to prove myself. Pulling away from her sweet lips, I plant myself between her thighs again, and lick her clean.

“Brann!” she whisper yells, panic in her voice amuses. “Too sensitive.” She tugs my hair, but I continue, because she’s my mate and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove my unfettered devotion and love to her.

Epilogue

Tasha

6 months later

Lucy’s performancein the community play as a sheep is adorable. She bleats loudly, spins in a circle, as if chasing her tail, and tries to eat the puffballs of wool glued to her costume. Adorable chaos.

I’d be lying if I said I made her costume. Brann sat up with her every night, gluing and sewing the wooly puffballs and floppy ears together. He even borrowed a bejeweling device and made her sheep a jeweled collar, which I will probably never get her to take off.

Sitting in the audience, Brann next to me, his hand on my belly in that possessive way of his, is a moment of pure surrealness. Some days, I still wonder how I got here, but then I shift, trying to make my hips more comfortable, and when I twist and make eye contact with Brann’s golden eyes, I remember.

Sex with one’s boss before starting a new job seems like a fatal mistake for said job. But the rollercoaster got me what I never dreamed I could have—a growing family.

Applause goes up at the end of the play. I jump to my feet, forgetting that jumping is a bad idea as of three weeks ago. Gravity tugs on my bladder as I stand there, clapping and hooting at the top of my lungs for the magical farm animals, particularly a little sheep with a jeweled collar.

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