Page 73 of The Orc Warrioress and the Elf Lord

Her breasts were positively stunning.

He swallowed again, looking at them, looking at how they were so round and so heavy and yet sat so high and regal on her chest. They softened her in some way, but then they were… they were breasts that commanded respect. He wanted to worship them, he thought. His mouth was dry.

“Everything you were hoping for?” she said archly.

“Oh, by the dawn, much more lovely than I could have dreamed,” he breathed.

She tried to laugh, but it seemed to get caught in her throat.

He met her gaze. “Are you all right? We don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, we do,” she said, and marched right over to him, putting her breasts right in his face where he was sitting on the bed.

He let out a moan, because he was now incapable of making rational decisions, he thought. He was lost. He gasped at her, raising his hand. “May I?”

“No, I’ve bared them to you because I don’t wish you to touch them.” She was sarcastic, but her voice was hushed.

He cupped her, gently with one hand. Her skin was soft and warm. He brought up his other hand to touch the other one, but he went directly for her dark green nipple, brushing it with his forefinger.

She hissed, and her nipple tightened prettily, and his groin tightened in response. He liked affecting her.

“I want… my mouth…”

“Yes, please,” she whispered.

So, he latched on to that little tight nipple, lathed it with his tongue and he toyed with her other breast as he did so, and she sighed and sank a hand into his hair.

He suckled the other one, too.

He settled back to gape at them. He weighed both of them in his hands. He pressed them together. He squeezed them. He toyed with her nipples. He gently pinched them. He ran little circles around them with his tongue.

All of that went on a while, as he cycled through all of these things again and again.

He began to think that he would never tire of this, that he could be perfectly happy doing this for the rest of his life.

He looked up at her from time to time to make sure she was all right, and she always had her eyes closed, a little smile on her face, and she was sighing prettily as he continued at her.

She touched his face, tracing his features, and he liked that, liked her touching his jaw while he had his mouth latched to her, liked her thumb against his eyebrow while he was kissing the valley between them.

At some point, he shed his shirt, too, but sort of absently, and then after that, she was touching his bare shoulders sometimes, too.

He said things, told her she had the most perfect bosom he’d ever seen, told her that loved the way she tasted, told her that he could be perfectly happy doing this for the rest of his life.

Then, at some point, she bent down and kissed him.

He got off the bed and pulled her up against him. He was just a tiny bit taller than her, and it made kissing nice, because their mouths were perfectly lined up. He liked the press of her breasts against his chest. He liked having his arms around her.

By the dawn, her waist was rather small. She had impressive shoulders and then this entirely wondrous set of breasts, but she was… his hands spanned her waist, and there was a daintiness to her. He sighed into her mouth.

She made an answering noise.

He broke the kiss so that he could go back to admiring her bosom. To looking at it. He thumbed her nipples. “These were getting a little bit relaxed,” he murmured. “We can’t have that. I like them nice and taut and suckable.” And then he bent down to take her into his mouth again.

She threw back her head and moaned.

He sat down on the bed again, and he pulled her down with him.

She straddled him, and that was perfect, because they were just there for him, and he could keep at them. The more he toyed with them, the more sensitive they seemed to be. She wasn’t simply sighing anymore. She was letting out long, low noises that seemed to come from the depths of her.