Page 88 of Her Orc Protector

In answer, I slipped out of my shift, letting it join the dress at my feet. I stood naked before him, skin prickling in the cool air but warmed by the heat in his gaze. "Very sure."

He made a sound low in his throat—half growl, half groan—and reached for the ties of his trousers. I watched, breath caught, as he stripped them away. The thin barrier of his smallclothes followed, and then there was nothing between us but air and moonlight.

Uldrek stepped closer, hands settling on my waist, pulling me against him. The feel of his skin against mine sent a jolt through me—the familiar magic of flesh meeting flesh, of being wanted, of wanting in return.

His mouth found my neck, my shoulder, the sensitive spot just below my ear. I gasped, arching into him, fingers tangling in his hair to keep him close.

"The water," I managed, though speaking felt like swimming through honey. "Turn on the water."

He nodded against my skin, pulling back to reach for the pump. With a few strong strokes of his arm, water began to flow from the spout above, steam rising in the cool night air. He adjusted the rune, ensuring the flow would continue, then turned back to me, eyes dark and hungry.

I stepped into the stall, beckoning him to follow. The water hit my shoulders, my back—warm, almost hot, a shock againstmy cooled skin. Uldrek joined me, crowding close in the narrow space, his hands immediately finding my hips, my waist, the curve of my breasts.

"Stars, Issy," he breathed, watching water sluice down my body. "The way you look—"

I silenced him with a kiss, deep and demanding. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, skin to slick skin. I could feel every hard plane of his body, every ridge of muscle, every scar—and between us, his cock, hard and insistent against my stomach.

My hand slipped between us, finding him, stroking slowly from base to tip. He groaned into my mouth, hips jerking forward involuntarily. I smiled against his lips, enjoying the power of it—the way this strong, controlled man came undone at my touch.

His own hands weren't idle. One tangled in my wet hair, angling my head for deeper kisses. The other traced lower, finding the seam between my thighs, the heat and wetness there that had nothing to do with the shower's spray.

"Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slid into me, finding me already slick and ready. "You're so wet for me."

"Always," I gasped, rocking against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. "I always want you."

He worked me with skilled fingers, circling my clit with his thumb while one finger, then two, pumped inside me. I clutched at his shoulders, legs trembling as pleasure built low in my belly, coiling tighter with each stroke.

But even as our bodies moved together, something felt off. His kisses grew more urgent, almost frantic, but his eyes—those eyes that normally held mine, that saw through me, saw into me—kept skating away. Looking at my neck, my breasts, my shoulder. Anywhere but directly at me.

I tried to catch his gaze, one hand on his jaw to tilt his face toward mine. "Uldrek—"

He spun me suddenly, pressing me face-first against the shower wall. His chest molded to my back, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other braced beside my head. His mouth found my shoulder, my neck, the sensitive spot behind my ear.

“Let me,” he murmured, his cock pressing insistently against my lower back. “Let me take you like this.”

I caught my breath, torn between desire and confusion. This position, with my back to him—it was new. Different. And not necessarily unwelcome—the thought of him taking me from behind sent a fresh wave of heat spiraling low in my belly. But it also meant he wouldn't have to look at me. Wouldn't have to meet my eyes or face whatever he was avoiding.

Still, I wanted him. Wanted this. Whatever was happening between us emotionally, our bodies still spoke the same urgent language.

"Yes," I breathed, arching my back, pressing against him in invitation. "Please."

He groaned, teeth grazing my shoulder as his hand slipped between my thighs again, checking that I was ready. I was—almost embarrassingly so, my body responding to his touch with eagerness that bordered on desperation.

"Brace yourself," he murmured, lining himself up behind me.

I spread my hands against the shower wall, water running down my arms, between my fingers. The first press of him was exquisite—a slow, thick pressure that had me gasping, pressing back to take more.

"Fuck," Uldrek hissed, hands tightening on my hips as he sank deeper. "You feel so good, Issy. So fucking perfect."

The stretch from this angle was sharp, bordering on too much. But that edge of discomfort only heightened the pleasure, made me whimper, squirm, take him deeper.

"Alright?" he asked, pausing to let me adjust.

I nodded, beyond words. The feel of him inside me—stretching, claiming, filling—was overwhelming. Perfect. Everything I needed.

He began to move, slow at first, careful thrusts that had me moaning with each drag and slide. His hands roamed my body, one cupping my breast, the other sliding down to circle my clit in time with his thrusts.

"That's it," he murmured as I pressed back against him, meeting each thrust with equal urgency. "Take me. Take all of me."

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