Page 30 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

It’s such an intimate thing to know that someone snores, and I find it adorable that Torren was worried about it. Or perhaps my mind is going soft, because a week ago, I would never have thought that talking about snoring could be considered adorable.

I try to settle in the space between them, but though the bed is wide enough for all of us, I can’t seem to get comfortable. It takes me several minutes of tossing and turning to realize what’s wrong.

“I have to take off my stays,” I whisper, mortified. Quickly, I reach into my dress to loosen the laces at my sides, then shimmy around. I slip them off from under my dress, feeling much better already. Then I crawl to the end of the bed to drop the stays to the floor.

Morg groans beside me. “Gods, this is torture.”

I turn to find him lying on his back, his hands covering his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, scooting back.

I tug on his arm until he loosens up and lets me intertwine our fingers. Then he rolls to the side and props his head up with his hand.

“Knowing you’re lying in bed with me and holding back is the sweetest kind of punishment,” he rumbles. “You smell so good, Jasmine.”

“Morg,” Torren barks from behind me. “If you can’t control yourself, you’re welcome to leave.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Morg retorts. “You set the rules, our clothes stay on. But don’t pretend you’re not hard as a rock right now. I’m just better at telling the truth, is all.”

I dart a glance toward Torren’s groin, and sure enough, there’s the straining length of his cock, visible even in the low light. Now that I know what to look for, I see the bulge in Morg’s pants is similarly large—and just as intriguing.

“Go to sleep,” Torren orders.

I giggle, unable to help myself. I’m hot all over, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep now. I cover my face with my hands to stifle the snort of laughter trying to work its way out of me, but I can’t stop it. My shoulders shake, and I roll in a ball on my side, gasping helplessly.

“What on earth is so funny?” Torren grumbles when Morg chuckles, too.

“It’s just—” My words get cut off on another burst of giggles, so I make a valiant attempt at wiping my eyes and taking a big breath. “It’s too much,” I force out. “Do you know what my parents would say if they saw me right now? They’d lock me up and never let me see the light of day.”

My words sober me better than being doused in cold water. The tears slipping out of my eyes are real now, no longer the product of hysterical laughter, and I bury my face in Torren’s pillow, hiding from their inquisitive looks.

A warm hand lands on my waist, and Torren scoots closer to me, the warmth of his body spreading up against my back. “Do you want to be here, Jasmine?” he asks in his low, sensible voice.

I nod, then croak, “Yes! But I don’t know why. I don’t know if I’ll be able to choose between you two either, because it would break my heart to leave one of you. I didn’t want this when I came here. I didn’t want to ruin your lives.”

The bed creaks lightly as Morg shifts closer to me as well. His hand rests just below Torren’s, right on my hip, and he presses a kiss to my hair, his exhale brushing my skin. “You didn’t ruin my life, love.”

“Nor mine,” Torren adds.

They’re silent for a long moment, so I move, peering up at them. It seems like they’re having a silent conversation. Torren’s mouth twists, then he gives Morg a curt nod.

Morg kisses my cheek now. “We will not make you choose, Jasmine.”

I blink, confused. “What?”

“It would hurt all of us.” Torren lets out a long sigh. “I told you about that story where one of the males killed the other. We don’t know how either one of us would react if you chose only one. I’m not saying Morg would attempt to murder me, or I him, but losing a mate…” He shudders, then finishes, “It is not something I would wish upon my greatest enemy.”

“Is that what I am?” Morg teases. “Your greatest enemy?”

Torren rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “No, Morg, you’re not. If you repeat that to anyone, I will deny it, though.”

I let out a laugh, which ends in another sob, only this time, I’m crying because I’m relieved. “I really won’t have to reject one of you?”

Morg brushes my tears away with the sleeve of his tunic. “For better or for worse, you’re stuck with both of us now.”

Chapter

Eleven

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