Page 171 of Halfling
Gulping, she used her arm and hand to plump her breasts, teasing them with finger and thumb. He rumbled as he watched, eyes gone molten gold. Though his nostrils flared and his cheeks grew ruddy, he never hastened his hips, instead keeping to those maddening little thrusts that pushed her to the brink.
“Orek…” she moaned, not ashamed of the whine in her voice. She needed him.
He made a pleased rumble before slowly, so slowly, lowering his head to her. He kissed her lips then down her throat to her chest. With his eyes fixed on hers, he covered her hand with his to feed her breast into his greedy mouth, where he sucked and laved at her. He worked her with teeth and tongue, alternating between breasts and sucking kisses and nipping laps.
Sorcha threw her head back, hips rolling to find more friction.
He stopped. He did every time she tried to push him into going faster, harder. She whined and keened, but he only began again when she lay still for him. He drew her to the edge only to deny her, and after the third time of this, Sorcha was growling herself.
She dug a hand into his hair, nails scraping his scalp. “I want you, mate,” she whispered hotly at his ear.
A groan ripped from his throat, and then his mouth was on hers, swallowing down her cries.
“What do you want, my mate?” he rasped. “Everything I am is yours.”
“I want everything—but start with your cock.”
He huffed a laugh, and she felt his grin on her skin. “Anything, my heart,” he whispered, and then that big green cock of his was pressing at her entrance.
Sorcha choked on her moan, the feeling of him conquering his way inside always thrilling. Finally, she would be full of her mate—all she’d wanted to be all day.
He seated himself with firm rolls of his hips, working a little deeper with each stroke. His head fell to her chest when his hips came flush with hers, cock buried to the root inside her. Sorcha clenched her muscles around him, earning her a purring growl.
“Hold onto me,” he said, and she’d only just thrown her arm around his neck when he pulled out to the head and slammed back inside.
Sorcha screamed, the ache and pressure and slideso good.Their hips slapped together again, again, in a rhythm that would’ve moved her across the table if she weren’t gripping him tight. She dug her fingers into the meat of his shoulder, mouth open on a silent scream as he pounded inside.
He gave her no quarter, hand full of her backside to make her meet every thrust. Her breasts bounced as he worked her, scraping her nipples across his hot skin.
She clutched at him with every drag, her body begging his not to go, and welcomed him back with every stroke. She wept for him, their slick and spend dripping over Sorcha’s thighs and the wet sounds they made echoing off the stones of the kitchen.
Unable to bear it any longer, Sorcha clasped his hips with her legs as tight as she could and bore down. He growled into her hair, thumb capturing her clit between it and his thrusting cock.
More stars than the night sky exploded in Sorcha’s vision. She came apart on a wailing cry, body going rigid in ecstasy.
Her mate held her tight and himself still as she came, milking his cock, until he too could stand it no longer. Rhythm stuttering into a frenzy, he set his elbows on the table, clutched her hair in his hand, andrutted.
She heard the wet slap of their spend hit the floor, and she shuddered with another release as her mate flew apart above her. Fangs bared, tendons popping at his throat, Orek snarled as he pumped her full of him, the hot gush of his seed scorching her from the inside out.
She was full. So full. But she’d never get her fill of him.
It was a long while before his hips went completely still, little aftershocks and twitches of pleasure echoing in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
When he picked himself up from her chest, Orek wore a satisfied smile, his eyes gone soft again.
“Welcome home, my love,” she murmured.
“My mate,” he purred. “There aren’t enough human words to say how much I love you.”
“You show me. Every day, with everything you are.”
He kissed her long and deep, tongue dancing with hers just as they’d danced around the bonfire.
When he did pull back, Sorcha found a dangerously playful grin on his lips. “Are you ready, my heart?”
“Ready for what?”
“For everything.”
Setting her up on wobbly legs, Orek tugged the ribbon from their hands, then gently pulled off their remaining clothes. He tied her hair back with the ribbon before carrying her, naked, into the parlor, where he laid her down on a plush rug in front of the roaring hearth.
And it was here, and then the settee, and then the stairs, and then finally their bed, many times in their bed, that he showed her, proved to her, as he had every day and would every day, what it meant to be his mate.
The End
