He smiles, that quick flash of teeth and the subtle gleam of a tusk. “And not enough of you,” he says, his hand already working at the button of my jeans. “I’ve been thinking about this. About you. About how you’d feel under my hands, how you’d taste.”
The words send a shock through my system. I’m already wet, already aching, the thin fabric of my underwear the only thing between his hand and where I need him most.
“Bedroom,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly unsteady. “Now.”
He nods, already lifting me off the table, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. I should protest. I’m not exactly light, and we’re three floors up. But there’s something about being carried, about the strength in his arms and the focused heat in his eyes, that makes my brain go quiet in a way that has nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with the man currently carrying me up the stairs.
His bedroom is exactly what I expected. Sparse but not sterile, with the organization of someone who appreciates efficiency. A bed that’s probably standard for an orc but looks enormous from my perspective, a dresser with more drawers than any one person needs, a window with the curtains drawn against the early evening light. He sets me down carefully, and for one brief moment we just look at each other. His chest rising and falling with each breath, my fingers still curled in the waistband of his jeans.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice low. “Tell me how to make this good for you.”
The request hits me harder than any declaration would have. He’s asking, not assuming. Giving me space to name what I want, to take control of what happens next.
“Everything,” I say, the word coming out more forceful than I intended. “I want everything. Your hands, your mouth, you inside me. I want to feel you everywhere.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Surprise, maybe, or wonder. Then his expression settles into focused heat. “I can do that,” he says, and reaches for the hem of my shirt. “Let me?—”
“Wait.” I put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “You first. I want to see you.”
He nods, understanding what I’m asking. With careful, deliberate movements, he removes his clothes. Jeans first, then his boxers, then, with a quick flash of that mischievous smile, his socks. He stands before me completely naked, and my mouth goes dry.
He’s magnificent. Broad through the shoulders and chest, tapering to narrow hips, his thighs thick with muscle from years of working on his feet. His cock stands proudly from a nest of dark hair, already hard and leaking at the tip, the size of it making my stomach flip with a mix of want and nervous anticipation.
“You’re staring,” he says, and there’s that note in his voice. Careful neutrality that doesn’t quite hide the heat underneath.
“I’m appreciating,” I correct him, already reaching for the button of my jeans. “Your turn.”
He helps me undress, his movements careful, almost reverent. When I’m finally naked, standing before him with my hair falling loose around my shoulders, he makes a noise. Not quite a groan, not quite a growl. It sends a shock of heat straight to my core.
“So beautiful,” he says, his voice rough. “I’ve been thinking about this. About you. About how you’d look like this.”
The words cut off as I reach for him, my hand wrapping around his cock. He’s hot. Hotter than I expected, the skin velvety over the hardness underneath. He’s also enormous. Myhand doesn’t come close to spanning his length, my fingers barely meeting around his girth. The size difference between us, already apparent in our height and build, is nowhere more evident than here. His massive frame, my smaller one, his cock thick enough that my fingers don’t meet.
He sucks in a breath when I stroke him, slow and exploratory. His hips jerk forward slightly, seeking more contact, and I feel a surge of power at his response. At the way his eyes go half-lidded, the way his jaw clenches.
“Mei,” he says, my name rough in his mouth. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.”
I smile, stroking him again. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” His hand comes up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “And I want to taste you first. I’ve been thinking about that. About how you’d taste, about the sounds you’d make.”
The words send another wave of heat through me. My body responding, my hips moving of their own accord as he guides me to the bed.
“Lie back,” he says, his voice gentle despite the focused heat in his eyes. “Let me take care of you.”
I do as he asks, settling against the pillows as he kneels between my legs. He takes his time, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, his breath hot against my skin. The anticipation is almost unbearable. Then the first touch of his tongue makes me gasp, my back arching off the bed. Hot, wet, exactly where I need it.
He smiles against me, and then he’s really going at it. His tongue flat against my clit, then pointed as it slides lower. Then forked as it explores my entrance. The sensation is overwhelming. Heat building at the base of my spine, my hips moving without conscious direction, my hands finding his hair and holding on as the pleasure builds.
He’s good. Better than good, with an attention to detail that makes sense given how he approaches everything else. He pays attention to my reactions, adjusts his technique based on the sounds I make, the way my body moves under his hands. When I gasp at a particular motion, he does it again, harder. When my thighs start to tremble, he holds them open with those big hands, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
“Tovek,” I manage, my voice breaking. “I’m close. I’m going to?—”
“Yeah?” he says against me, the word sending vibrations through my already sensitized flesh. “Show me.”
And I do. My orgasm crashes through me with unexpected force, my back arching off the bed, his name in my mouth as pleasure floods my system. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t give me time to recover. Just keeps going, his tongue relentless as he drives me toward a second peak that’s already building.
“Too much,” I gasp, my hips trying to move away from the overwhelming sensation. “Tovek, please?—”
