Page 40 of Her Orc Blacksmith

I barely finished the sentence before his mouth was on mine again, lips parting, tongue sliding against mine, and I moaned softly, fingers digging into his shoulders like I needed him to steady me, to keep me grounded or else I might float away in the storm of feelings that were rushing through me. I had never been kissed like this. It wasn’t just passionate—it was…intentional. Like he was telling me without words all the things I had never dared to dream someone would say.

My back arched against the cold stone as he pressed me harder into the wall, his hand moving from my waist to the small of my back. His other hand went to my hair, fingers tangling in theloose strands that had escaped my bun. He tugged gently, just enough to make me tilt my head back slightly, giving him better access to my lips.

And he took it, his mouth moving fiercely against mine with a possessive edge that left me breathless. I’d never felt so wanted…never. That realization hit me like a hammer to the chest—not in a painful way, but like a truth I hadn’t allowed myself to see until now, in this moment, with this orc who held me as though he'd die if he let go.

I was alive. I was alive, and I could feel again. Want again. Be wanted.

Vorgath pulled back just enough for me to see his eyes. They were molten now, dark and intense. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, and I could see the restraint in his tense jaw as though he was waiting for me to stop him, to tell him this was moving too fast.

I didn’t want to stop.

My hand slid down his arm, tracing the dips and grooves of his muscles, until it reached his hand still clutching my waist and dragged it up, up, along my side, until I pressed his palm against my breast. His massive hand cupped me, fingers splayed wide, and I marveled at how perfectly I fit in his grasp, like I was made to be there. He brushed his thumb across the peak, sending a jolt of pleasure through me, hardening my nipple beneath his touch.

A small gasp escaped my lips, and Vorgath growled low in his throat, his eyes never leaving mine as he did it again, slower this time, deliberate. His thumb circled the bud, teasing it until it stood taut and aching, begging for more. I arched into his touch, pressing myself firmer into his hand.

He took the invitation, squeezing gently, testing the weight and softness. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure coursing through me, pooling low in my belly, making me ache.

“Vorgath...” His name left my lips like a secret, whispered into his mouth as I leaned up to kiss him again.

He met me eagerly, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that matched my own. His hand continued to work its magic, kneading and caressing, his thumb brushing against my nipple again and again until I was panting into his mouth, my body alive with sensation.

His other hand trailed down my side, tracing the curve of my waist and hip before sliding around to grip my backside. He pulled me tight against him, and I could feel the hard length of him pressed against my stomach, extending up to almost nestle between my breasts. Seven save me, he was enormous—his arousal a thick, solid presence. I shifted slightly, rubbing against him, and he groaned into my mouth, his grip tightening. His hips moved instinctively, pushing against me, and I could feel the sheer power and size of him. It was intoxicating, the knowledge that he wanted me this much, that I could drive him to this point of need and desperation.

His hand moved from my breast, trailing down to the laces of my bodice. With a deftness that surprised me, he began to unlace it, his fingers working quickly and expertly. I could feel the cool night air against my skin as the fabric loosened, and then his hand was sliding inside, cupping my bare breast, his thumb brushing against my nipple.

I moaned softly, arching into his touch. His mouth left mine, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, lingering on the sensitive spot where my shoulder met my throat. I tilted my head back, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, his teeth grazing my skin, his tongue soothing the sting, until finally, his mouth moved lower, kissing the swell of my breast, his tongue circling my nipple before drawing it into his mouth. I cried out softly, my fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to me as he suckled and teased.

“Vorgath,” I gasped, my head falling back against the wall, my breasts bared to him and anyone who dared to walk past.

He looked up at me then, eyes dark in the shadowed alleyway. “You keep saying my name,durlan.”

I laughed breathlessly. “It's your fault,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper. “You keep doing... that.”

A small smirk played on his lips, and he leaned in, his breath hot on my ear. “Doing what?”

I shivered, goosebumps prickling my skin. “Making me feel... everything.”

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through me. “Good.”

His hand moved from my breast, sliding down my side, tracing the curve of my hip. He gripped the fabric of my skirt, slowly pulling it up, inch by inch, his fingers brushing against my thigh. I held my breath, anticipation coiling in my stomach. His touch was deliberate, each movement calculated to drive me wild.

And it was working.

My heart pounded in my chest, my body aching for more. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into the leather of his tunic. His hand moved higher, pushing my skirt up around my waist, his fingers tracing the edge of my undergarments. I sucked in a breath, my eyes fluttering closed.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, brushing against the soft curls. I bit my lip, a small gasp escaping as he delved deeper, his fingers finding the sensitive bud that ached for his touch. I squirmed, my hips moving instinctively, seeking more. He leaned in, his tongue sliding against my lower lip. I opened for him, our tongues tangling as he continued to tease me, his fingers moving in slow, torturous circles.

“More,” I pleaded, my voice a breathy moan.

He growled, his fingers moving faster, applying more pressure. I squirmed, my hips arching to meet his touch, the sensation building as he stroked and teased. Each circle sent jolts of pleasure through me, making my breath hitch and my body tremble.

I gasped, my breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “Vorgath… I… I’m…”

He nodded slightly, his eyes locked onto mine, and it was as if he could see every part of me—not just the surface, but the depths I kept hidden, the fears and hopes I barely dared to acknowledge. For a moment, everything else faded—the sounds of the festival outside the alley, the world itself—all that remained was his touch, unraveling every thread of composure.

My body tensed, coiling tighter and tighter until I burst into a wave of pure sensation, a cry slipping past my lips. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his tunic as his touch sent me spiraling over the edge.

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