Page 41 of The Orc Outcast's Miracle

“Not a very nice picture I’m painting, is it?” She stroked the arm she was still holding tight. She hadn’t let go of him even once. “But don’t worry, Govek, you’re the only one who can really make me ‘ooze.’”

The contrast between pleasure and disgust at the picture she was painting made him growl. “Be careful, Miranda, or I’m going to make you ‘ooze’ right now.”

“That a promise?” she teased, walking her fingers up his arm. He shivered with delight. His mouth began to water. His blood raced and his cock pulsed.

And then her expression fell and flattened.

His gut clenched, but before he had to press her for answers, she said, “So, how come you’ve lost control with Yerina but not me?”

His eyes went wide. “What?”

“She told me how you trusted her enough to lose yourself with her.” She skewered him with both her words and her eyes. “But no matter how many times I ask, you adamantly refuse.”

Of course, he did. He had to. Losing control was the worst thing he could possibly?—

“Maybe you just don’t like me as much?”

“That is not true,” he grated, finally finding words. “Yerina is nothing next to you.”

She pursed her lips, expression still unhappy, but she hadn’t let go of him, hadn’t pushed him away or struck him with insults or raked her eyes over him in disgust.

Instead, she put her arms around his neck.

“What are you doing, Miranda?” Hope swam in his veins, but they were still on the path, right here in the open. If any orcs or women walked back early, they would see.

Unless he carted her off into the woods. Then they would only hear and smell.

Fuck, he wasn’t of sound mind.

“I dunno.” She scratched at the back of his neck as he leaned down closer. “What do you think I’m doing?”

He tried to graze her lips with his, but she ducked, slunk away. His gut twisted. “Miranda?”

“I want you to tell me... what does Yerina have that I don’t? What can I do to have all of you and not just pieces?”

Fuck. He needed to clear his head, but the honeyed scent of her was far too sweet and growing thicker.

What was going on in her mind? He would sell his soul to read it.

“How come Yerina got to have all of you, and I don’t?”

“You’re too precious, Miranda. I cannot risk losing you.”

“I don’t feel precious.”

Her words sent a spiral of anxiety through him, and all pleasure dimmed away.

“I don’t feel precious, Govek,” she said again, her voice firm. “I feel like you can resist me, like I don’t make you crazy, like I’m the only one who’s desperate. What did Yerina have that I don’t?”

“She wasn’t . . . she didn’t?—”

“What made you lose control with her, Govek?” she asked, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. She held him firm so he couldn’t look away from her eyes. “What did she do that made her irresistible?”

“She wasn’t irresistible. She was fucking harsh.” Fuck, he couldn’t stop the words from spilling. “She was wicked with her complaints. Constant in her demands. She pushed and yanked and scratched until I was in bloody tatters. And then I would give in because I was so fucking lonely—fuck.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and worked the horrible memories out of his mind. Of being so fucking desperate that it made him lose himself. Of going to lengths beyond his endurance just to keep her from abandoning him. From being alone again.

“Sorry.”

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