Page 71 of Her Orc Healer

Only the aching throb of want building deep in my core as he knelt there between my legs, looking like he might tear the whole world apart just to keep me open for him.

Kazrek’s hands skimmed slowly up my thighs again, this time with more intent—more weight behind the touch. When his thumbs reached the crease at the top of my thighs, he paused.

His gaze never left mine as he lowered one hand between my legs, sliding his fingers through the slick heat there. His touch was exploratory at first—just the pads of his fingers gliding through my folds, spreading me open, learning the shape of me. He didn’t rush, didn’t chase the obvious. He took his time, mapping every reaction, every twitch, every stuttered breath.

He found the right spot—my breath hitched, my hips lifted—and he made a quiet, pleased sound deep in his throat. His thumb pressed there, circling slowly, and I nearly sobbed.

Then—one finger, thick and careful, pressed inside.

My body seized around him with a sharp gasp. He waited. Let me breathe. Then a second finger followed, stretching me wider, deeper. The stretch burned in the best way—filling, claiming. I was already moving against his hand, hips tilting in desperate rhythm, needing more friction, more pressure, more him.

“Kaz—”

“I know,” he breathed, mouth brushing against my thigh. “I’ve got you.”

He worked me open with slow, steady thrusts, his thumb still circling, coaxing my body into readiness. I was unraveling beneath him, the pressure building fast, sharp and sweet and impossible to hold back.

And just when I thought I might fall apart again—

He pulled his fingers free.

I whimpered, the loss sudden and cruel, but he was already shifting lower, already gripping my thighs to spread me wide once more.

And then his mouth was on me.

The first sweep of his tongue made my whole body jolt—sharp, electric. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open, steady, as his mouth moved against me in slow, devastating strokes. There was nothing tentative in the way he licked me. He knew what he wanted, and it was me.

I cried out, one hand flying to the back of his head, threading into his thick hair. He groaned when I pulled, the sound low and dark, vibrating through me like thunder in my bones. He liked that. The way I tugged. The way I trembled.

He buried his face deeper, licking me in long, deliberate passes before narrowing the focus—suckling at my clit with unbearable precision, like he was trying to imprint himself on every nerve ending I had. His tusks grazed against the soft skin of my thighs, and instead of fear, all I felt was need—sharp and clawing.

“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for.

Kazrek didn’t stop. If anything, he redoubled his efforts, hands tightening on my thighs as he pulled me closer to the edge.

I was shaking now.Unraveling. My legs tried to close, overwhelmed by the intensity, but he held me there—firm but careful—his thumbs stroking soothing circles into the meat of my thighs even as his mouth worked me mercilessly.

The pleasure was rising fast, bright and fierce, impossible to contain.

“Kaz—Kazrek—I—”

The orgasm slammed into me like a wave hitting stone—shattering, blinding. I cried out, back arching, hands fisting in his hair as my whole body locked up, then shook apart around his mouth.

He didn’t stop.

He licked me through it, slow and patient, until I couldn’t take any more. I whimpered, breath hitching, thighs trembling—and then he lifted his head. His mouth was wet with me, his eyes burning, chest heaving.

“Rowena,” he rasped, voice so low it scraped across my skin. I didn’t know if it was a warning, a plea, or just my name made sacred on his tongue.

I reached for him, dragging him up by the back of his neck, kissing him hard. I tasted myself on his lips and didn’t care—I wanted him inside me, now,now.

He groaned into my mouth as I fumbled for the laces of his trousers, tugging hard, impatient. He shifted, helping, bracing on one arm while the other freed himself with quick, practiced movements.

And then—he was there.

Hot. Heavy. Thick. He shifted above me, guiding himself to my entrance, the thick head of him sliding through the slick heat between my thighs. But when he pushed forward, I tensed—hips locking, legs tight around him without meaning to. My body wanted him, ached for him, but the sudden stretch, the pressure—it hit something deep and old in me. The part that always held on too tight.

Kazrek stilled immediately. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Just braced himself over me, his breath warm where it ghosted across my cheek.

---