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“I mean it. You’ve been doing everything I want for two weeks, and you’re going to do this too.”

Just knowing he really will do what I want spirals me out of control. “I’m going to. I’m going to, oh fuck, oh my God—”

The orgasm hits me, and I clamp down on his cock in greedy pulses. I cry out, and the glass in the doors sings with me. He’s doing that.

I keep riding him as the aftershocks roll through me. My body quivers, and I can’t stop it. Every slide on his cock pulls a moan out of him. Suddenly, I’m coming again. My legs give out, and I’m on my knees again with him as deep as he can go as my body rocks with pleasure.

When I can think again, I’m still moving. More slowly.

“You’re done,” I say.

“Paige—”

“In me. Now.”

He grips my hips and explodes. I feel every pulse of hot and thick cum filling me until it has nowhere to go and runs down his cock. He’s saying words in his own language, rough, broken in the middle, and one word comes out twice. Mora’vol. It sounds like what he was trying to say the first day I touched him. The implant doesn’t translate it.

When he stops shivering under me, I sit on him with his cum running out of me and listen to the rain.

And then I can’t talk. For about ten seconds, my mouth is open, but nothing comes out. My brain is fried from pleasure.

He holds still and doesn’t say anything either. I’m grateful I’m not the only one struck dumb.

I get my breath back, and the dumbest thing finally pops out of my mouth. “Well. Welcome to the library.”

“It is a good library.”

His deadpan response makes me giggle.

“And you’re my orc.”

“Yes.”

Hmm, maybe him always agreeing isn’t so bad after all.

I climb off his cock, which requires his help because my legs have decided they are as firm as cooked spaghetti. His cum leaks out of me, warm, down the inside of my thigh, and I don’t move to clean it up. I want to feel it a while longer. Hell, I might just pull my panties on and drive home a mess.

My glasses are still on the top of the pile, and I shove them on and survey the damage. He’s still flat on his back with his eyes closed and his ears down. He finds my ankle and holds it.

“You talked a lot,” he says, opening his eyes to meet mine. “I would like that every time.”

I’ve got a sassy quip ready about how I bet he would, and I swallow it. He looks happy. Really happy. I did that, and I’m not ready to have made anybody that happy, so I look away.

He walks me to the car in the rain with his jacket held over both of us. He’s giving me more of a shelter, but we both get rained on anyway.

“‘You are done,’” he says at the car, in his storytelling voice, “‘said the keeper, and he was, because she had said so.’”

“That skips quite a bit of story.”

“Some of it is not for the hall.” His ears go soft and down. “Some of it is mine.” Then the grin comes back. “The hall gets the rest when I say so.”

“You’re banned from the library.” I get the door open. “Effective immediately.”

“I am not banned.”

“You are so banned.”

“Ten o’clock. Tomorrow. I will be early.”