Page 74 of Owned By the Hvrok

He was massive behind her, solid as stone, his bare chest like a wall of muscle carved from deep blue marble. Everything about him wastoo much—too big, too strong, too alien.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered, swallowing hard.

Right now, it didn’t matter that she couldn’t see his face.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand a word he said.

It didn’t even matter that he hadboughther.

What mattered was the feeling of his hand—callused, wide, hot-as-lava and impossiblyprecise—sliding higher.

Until he found her.

And still, he didn’t speak.

Just breathed.

Justtouched.

And she…

She let him.

Because she didn’t know what else to do. It felt good.Sogood. Better than anything she’d had from the men she’d known on Earth.

He was responding to her.

To the way she arched into his touch, to the stifled gasps she couldn’t control, to the way her breath hitched each time his fingers traced somewhere more sensitive.

He adjusted.

Teased.

His movements were maddeningly slow, like he wasplayingher: each shift of pressure, each pass of his fingers calibrated to draw out another tremor, another sigh—like she was an instrument and he’d already mastered how to make her sing.

And when his fingers finally found that most sensitive point, when the pads of them brushed, circled, pressed with devastating precision, her body betrayed her completely.

She gasped.

Soft. Broken.

Gone.

God.

She wanted to say something. Protest. Swear. Moan. Anything.Fuck.

But nothing made it past her lips because her whole body was humming, trembling, tuned to the rhythm of his hands and the steady, inescapable warmth of his body behind her.

She was so vulnerable. Sohelpless.

But it didn’t scare her anymore.

Not with him.

He could’ve crushed her. Commanded her. Broken her.

But instead, he was coaxing something else out of her entirely.

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