Page 52 of The Orc's Princess Bride
“Ulric,” she whimpered, arching beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair.
He chuckled, the sound muffled against her skin. “So responsive,” he murmured, his hand sliding between her thighs. “Already so wet for me.”
He drove her even higher, stroking her clit and sliding two thick fingers inside her. The heat between them grew, a wildfire that couldn’t be contained. She arched her hips against his hand, seeking more.
His massive cock throbbed against her thigh, and she could feel his body trembling with the effort of restraining himself. But tonight, she didn’t want restraint. She wanted him to unleash his Beast, to claim her with the primal ferocity that she knew lurked just beneath the surface. She wanted him to lose control.
“Claim me, Ulric,” she whispered. “Make me yours. In all ways.”
He growled, a deep, guttural sound that sent a thrill through her. He removed his fingers, replacing them with the thick head of his cock. He pushed inside her slowly, stretching her with every inch. Her breath left her in a ragged gasp as he filled her completely. Her body clenched around him, trying to adjust tohis girth. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure mixed with pain, a perfect storm of sensations.
She dug her fingers into his back, urging him deeper. “More,” she pleaded. “I need all of you.”
He obliged, withdrawing almost completely and then thrusting back inside, harder and deeper than before. Her entire body shook with the force of his movement, but she welcomed it, relished it. This was what she wanted—to be taken, to be possessed, to be his.
His pace increased, each stroke faster, harder than the last. He gripped her hips, tilting her body up to meet his, hitting a spot inside her that made her cry out his name. He held her there, driving into her relentlessly. She could feel her orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to consume her.
“Mine,” he growled. “My mate.” His eyes were pure black, his control shattered, his Beast fully unleashed.
“Yes,” she gasped, the word almost lost in her cries. “Yours.”
He surged forward, and the tension within her snapped, her climax ripping through her with an intensity that left her breathless. She tightened her grip on his shoulders as he continued to thrust, his strokes growing faster, wilder, until with a final, powerful stroke, he buried himself to the hilt. She felt the first hot pulse of his release and then he was growing, expanding, filling her even more. Her eyes went wide as the pressure pushed her into a second orgasm even more intense than the first and she clung to him, gasping for breath as his knot locked them together and she felt pulse after pulse of his release inside her.
She was so full she could barely breathe, but she had never felt so complete. This was what it meant to be a mate. To be one. To be bound in body and soul. They lay tangled together, bodies joined, hearts pounding. She could feel the throb of his cock inside her, the stretch of his knot.
“You’re mine now,” he murmured. “Forever.”
She sighed in contentment. “Forever.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Both Wulf and Egon had been anxious to return to their mates so Ulric and Jessamin were alone when they returned to Port Cael. Word of their approach spread like wildfire through the town, and by the time they rode through the massive gates of the stronghold, the courtyard was packed with people roaring their approval.
Jessamin sat proudly in front of him, her head held high. No longer the fragile southern bride, she wore her worn dress like a badge of honor. The people of Norhaven saw their queen return, unbroken, and their cheers shook the very stones.
But the celebration was tempered by his grim report to his council. They had rescued their queen, but Lasseran remained, his power intact, his vengeance certain to follow.
“He will not forgive this humiliation,” he told the gathered warriors. “He will come with everything he has.”
“We have been preparing for war,” Grak said quietly, and the other warriors nodded in agreement. “We knew it was coming.”
The older male was correct, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Lasseran was even more dangerous now.
The day passed in a blur of preparations, strategy meetings, and reunions. The brides from Almohad welcomed Jessamin with tears of relief, and he noticed his warriors bowed their heads respectfully when she passed them.
By evening, exhaustion weighed on them both. They retreated to his chamber—their chamber now. Servants had prepared baths and food, then discreetly withdrawn, leaving them alone.
After they had bathed and eaten, she led him to the balcony overlooking the wild, rugged mountains of Norhaven. The stars were emerging in the darkening sky, cold and brilliant. The wind carried the scent of pine and snow. Winter was coming. Would that be enough to hold off Lasseran until the spring?
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “This land of yours. Our land.”
He stood behind her, his arms encircling her waist, his chin resting on the top of her head. “It is harsh, but true. Like its people.”
She leaned back against him, warm and trusting in his arms. “The war that’s coming won’t be easy.”
“No,” he agreed. “Lasseran will use every dark art, every cruel trick. He will target what we love most.”
“He already tried that,” she said. “He failed.”
