Page 46 of Protective Pucking Orc

When I stripped out of my PJ pants and reached for the oversized robe, I wasn’t thinking about the showerhead anymore.

Still, standing outside the door to his room, my hand lifted to knock…I hesitated. Then I hesitated a bit more, shifting my weight, the floorboards cold beneath my feet.

If I just barged in there, what would he think of me? Would he mind how horny I was, just thinking of his strength and kindness and⁠—

The door burst open, yanked inward as Dakvaar blurted, “What’s wro⁠—”

He froze when he saw my hand, still raised to knock, and his gaze slowly slid down my body. I knew the robe was too big and gaped in the front, revealing my cleavage. I knew it made me look small, which wasn’t a way I usually thought of myself.

Dakvaar’s dark eyes burned as they raked over me, his massive chest rising and falling with each controlled breath. The dim hallway light caught the ridges of his bare torso, the way his muscles shifted beneath his green skin as he stood there, frozen.

His boxers hung low on his hips, the fabric straining against the thick outline of his cock—long, heavy, the ridges visible even through the cotton. A tattoo coiled up his left arm, black ink swirling in intricate patterns that seemed familiar somehow.

His claws flexed against the doorframe, the only sign of how hard he was fighting to stay still.

I let my gaze linger on the bulge between his legs, my pulse kicking up. ¡Ay Dios, he was huge.

His tongue flicked out, ridged and broad, dragging against the sharp edge of his tusk before he rasped, “What are you doing here, Sofia?”

The sound of my name in that rough, gravelly voice sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted my chin, meeting his glare with one of my own. “I’m checking on you for a change.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m fine.”

“Yes…” I let my eyes trail over him again, slower this time, taking in the way his abs flexed, the way his cock twitched beneath the fabric. “You most certainly are.”

His grip on the doorframe turned white-knuckled. I could see the battle in his eyes—the hunger, the restraint.

The need.

So I made the decision for him.

I surged forward, throwing myself against him. His chest was solid, unyielding, the heat of his skin searing through the thin fabric of my robe as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my mouth to his.

The moment our lips met, everything changed.

His tusks scraped my cheeks as his mouth claimed mine, his tongue sweeping in—wide, ridged, hot—filling me in a way no human’s ever had. I moaned into him, my fingers tangling in his hair as he growled, deep and guttural. The sound vibrated through me, straight to my core.

His hands landed on my waist, then slid up my back and down my sides, his claws scraping lightly through the robe before he shoved the fabric aside, his calloused palms branding my bare skin.

I gasped as his hands mapped me—my ribs, my spine, the dip of my waist—before dragging me flush against him. The robe gaped open, my breasts pressing against his chest, my nipples tightening at the contact. His skin was rougher than a human’s, the ridges of his torso catching on my sensitive flesh as he kissed me like he was starving.

His thigh nudged between my legs, and I melted against it, my hips rolling instinctively. The pressure against my clit was perfect—hard, unyielding, exactly what I needed. I rocked against him, my breath coming in short, desperate pants as his hands roamed my body, one tangling in my hair, the other gripping my ass, guiding my movements.

“Fuck, Sofia—” His voice was a growl against my jaw, his hips jerking slightly, his cock straining against his boxers. “You’re so wet⁠—”

I whimpered, my body tightening, my clit throbbing against his thigh. My pussy was sliding all over his hardness, wasn’t it? Just covering him with my wet need.

His hands slowed, his touch turning deliberate, his fingers tracing the ridge of my spine, the curve of my waist, the swell of my hips. Every stroke sent sparks through me, his claws pricking just enough to make me gasp.

His mouth left mine, trailing kisses along my jaw, my throat, his tusks scraping lightly as his tongue flicked against my pulse point.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Use me, dkaar. Take what you need.”

No, I…

That wasn’t why I’d come to his room, surely? But in that moment, after that command? I couldn’t remember my own name, much less why I was here.

So I did as he’d ordered. I rode his thigh, my hips rolling, my breath hitching as the pressure built, his hands guiding me, his mouth never leaving my skin. His fingers slid up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, and I cried out, my body coiling tight⁠—