Page 68 of Her Orc Protector

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. A nervous laugh escaped me. "I don't know. Whatever you want to do, I suppose."

He stilled, his hands withdrawing from my waist. He sat back on his heels, putting a deliberate space between us.

"That's not how this works, Issy," he said quietly. "Not with me."

Heat rose in my cheeks—embarrassment, confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, this isn't about what I want to do to you. It's about what you want." His eyes held mine, steady and unflinching. "All of it. Every touch. Every moment. I need you to be here with me, choosing it. Not just allowing it."

The words struck something deep in me, something raw and unexamined. I'd spent so long accommodating, anticipating, performing. When had anyone ever asked what I wanted? When had I ever been expected to know?

"I—" I faltered, suddenly uncertain. "I don't know if I can."

"Can what?"

"Tell you." I swallowed hard. "I've never... No one's asked before."

Something flickered across his face—understanding, perhaps, or anger on my behalf. But his voice remained gentle. "Then we'll figure it out together. Tell me where. How. If you want me to stop, we stop. If you want more, you say so. But it has to come from you. Not because you think it's what I expect."

I stared at him, this man who had become so much more than a shield or a lie or a convenient protection. This man who saw me—really saw me—and was asking me to see myself.

"I don't know where to start," I admitted.

He smiled slightly. "How about with what feels good? What you like?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. This was harder than facing the Council, harder than filing the declaration against Gavriel. This was admitting to wanting. To having desires of my own.

"I like it when you kiss me," I said finally, the words coming out small but clear.

"Where?" he prompted.

"Everywhere." I swallowed again. "My neck. My breasts. When you're gentle, but not… not like I'll break."

He nodded, encouraging. "What else?"

The dam began to crack. Words spilled out with increasing confidence. "I like your hands on my waist. The way you look at me like you're memorizing everything. I like when you're close enough that I can feel your heartbeat."

"Better," he said, his voice roughening slightly. "Anything else?"

I sat up, moving to my knees so we were face to face. "I want to see you. All of you."

His eyes darkened. "That's fair."

He stood then, unfastening his trousers with steady hands. When he pushed them down, along with his underclothes, I couldn't help the small intake of breath. He was fully erect, thick and long—a reminder of what he was, what we were to each other now.

But there was no expectation in the way he stood before me. No silent demand. Just openness, vulnerability even, as he allowed me to look my fill.

"Your turn," he said gently. "If you want."

And I found that I did want. I stood, my fingers going to the ties of my skirt. With a deep breath, I loosened them and let the fabric fall, pooling at my feet. I stepped out of it, now wearing only my undergarments.

Uldrek's gaze traveled over me, but he made no move to close the distance between us. He was waiting, I realized. For me to come to him.

So I did.

I closed the space between us, my hands finding his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. "I wantto touch you," I said, my voice stronger now, more certain. "I want to learn you."

His eyes never left mine as I explored him—the breadth of his shoulders, the curve of his spine, the swell of muscle in his arms. When my hands reached his sides, he twitched slightly, a hint of a smile appearing.

---