Page 21 of Rapunzel's Outlaw Orc
“Yes.” I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth before crawling over her. “But if you touch me now, this will be over before it even begins.”
“Oh.” She stares up at me, eyes huge and wanting. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”
I groan, leaning down to claim her mouth in another drugging kiss. Her arms twine around my shoulders, pulling me closer. The playful mood between us evaporates as soon as her tongue touches mine. Lava coats my veins, and desperation clouds my mind.
I haul her beneath me, arranging her with her legs splayed around my hips. She’s open and aching, already squirming beneath me impatiently.
“Be very good for me,” I murmur, gripping my cock.
“Or what?”
She’s trying to tease, but my response is solemn. “I could hurt you.”
Her expression softens, one hand landing against my cheek as if to reassure me. “You could never do that, Bran. I trust you.”
Gods, what have I ever done to deserve this kind of sweetness? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But somehow, someway, I will find a way to deserve it, even if it takes a lifetime.
I press the head of my cock against her sex, jutting my hips forward so it slides across her clit. She gasps, clinging tighter to my shoulders. I bury my face in her throat, groaning her name. She’s already searing hot and so wet.
I pump my hips a few times, letting my erection ride against her clit until she’s quivering and gasping beneath me. Until I’m gritting my teeth, two seconds from ripping a hole through the entire gods-damned world just to get inside her.
I know nothing of softness. I don’t know how to go slow or be what she needs. But somehow, I figure it out. I press forward slowly, so slowly that I feel her searing every centimeter of my aching cock as I slip inside. It’s the sweetest agony as I sheath myself in her warmth. She’s tight and trembling around me, and I’m sweating and cursing above her.
But by the gods, I go slow. I don’t hurt her. If there’s any pain at all, she doesn’t show it. She doesn’t flinch or tense or freeze up. She just moans my name—over and over, like a litany of encouragement and praise meant to steady me.
By the time my hips come to rest against hers, I’m drenched in sweat, and in the kind of heaven an orc like me can ever truly deserve.
“Brannock,” she whispers, awe in her voice and stars in her eyes. “I’m yours now.”
I choke on her name, my fists planted against the floorboards, arms straining.
“You feel like magic.” Her eyes meet mine, wide and dazed. “Does it feel the same to you?”
“Yes. Gods, yes,” I choke.
Her joy is worth the momentary pain. It’s worth any pain.
“Can you…” Her cheeks heat, her eyes shifting away in that move I’ve come to know well. She’s feeling shy again.
“Can I what, Rapunzel? Anything you want is yours,” I murmur, adjusting my weight to stroke her face. “Anything at all.”
“Can you move?” Her voice is a ghost of a whisper, her cheeks pink. “I, um, I think I need you to move?”
“Like this?” I pull back a few inches and then surge forward.
“Brannock!” she shouts, clinging to my shoulders.
A chuckle rumbles from my lips, loud and bright. Gods, she’s adorable. “Is that what you had in mind?”
“Yes!”
I do it again, pulling back further this time before surging forward again.
The way she cries my name brands itself into the deepest recesses of my mind, an indelible stamp nothing will ever erase.
“Again,” she gasps, clenching around me. “Oh, Gods, do that again.”
I bury my face in her throat again, locking our fingers together as I settle over her, using my knees to keep myself from crushing her. But we’re pressed together in one long, perfect line. She’s panting in my ear, quivering beneath me.
