Review: The Heiress and the Orc by Finley Fenn

“You did not give your maidenhead to this piddling foul man,” he said, his voice harder, as if stating an incontrovertible truth. “Or to any other. You kept it for me.”
Gods. There was a clenching shudder up Ella’s spine, and low in her belly, but she still hadn’t moved — and that single orc finger was sliding deeper, deeper into her mouth. Tasting inexplicably sweet, reminiscent of the scent that was swarming the air still further, settling in her lungs.
“And thus,” Natt said, his voice full of danger, of heat, of promise. “It shall be mine.”

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