Page 21 of The Orc's Bride

His gaze gave away nothing.

I stepped in the water, hissing when the cold current bit at my feet. The bottom of the stream was covered with soft sand, and I thanked the gods for this small mercy. Kneeling on stones would have been excruciating.

I stepped closer to Urgan and knelt between his powerful legs. At first, I winced from the cold. The icy water was reaching almost to my buttocks. I gripped Urgan’s knee to steady myself, and it was warm and rock-hard. A sigh escaped me… And in this moment, I decided that if I had to do this anyway, I would at least enjoy it.

Without letting go of his knee, I looked up at Urgan, a challenging smile on my lips.

“You have me where you want me. What now?”

For the longest while, he said nothing. I was beginning to shiver, the cold water lapping at my skin. Urgan’s throat moved as he swallowed, and I suddenly became aware that he wasn’t cold and indifferent anymore.

The sight of me at his feet was affecting him. Which meant I could enjoy myself even more.

I gave him a playful smile and a wink, leaning my forearms against his legs, looking up at his face. Urgan frowned, his eyes filling with thunder. He bent down, his face close to mine.

We were a breath apart.

“I will give you an order now. If at any point you wish to touch me anywhere else than I say, you must ask for it. You will obey me to the letter. There will be no less… and no more.”

I drew a shuddering breath. I had forgotten to breathe while he had been speaking.

So much for my insolence.

Urgan raised one eyebrow and gave me a smirk. I bit my lip, suddenly wishing I hadn’t leaned against his knees. With exaggerated care, I removed my forearms. Urgan’s smirk turned into a wolfish grin.

“Wash my feet.”

I sputtered in indignation. I watched Urgan’s face, waiting for the glint of amusement or any other sign that this was a joke.

But he was watching me, evaluating now, and dead serious. I gulped, realizing he really meant it.

And also… this was a test.

Clenching my jaw, I looked down where his legs disappeared under the water. The first thing I noticed was how large his calves were. And his feet. I looked at my small hands, realizing this task would cost me a lot of effort.

Biting my lip to hold back a curse and a stupid voice of disappointment, I reached for his left foot.

There wasn’t any soap, but the soft sand on the bottom of the stream felt clean, so I rubbed his foot with it. Hesitantly, I started massaging his ankle and foot with the sand, running my hands over his skin.

Above me, Urgan sighed. I looked up. His eyes were closed.

A thrill went through me. He was enjoying it. The great general was relaxing under my touch.

I went on massaging his foot. Finally, I pried my fingers underneath it, and Urgan lifted his leg without a word. I washed his sole with sand, running my fingers over the rough skin and pushing them between his toes.

I repeated everything with his other foot, focusing on my task in the hopes of eliciting another reaction out of him. He grunted deeply when I dug my fingers into his instep, so I kept doing it.

“Enough,” he said, his voice deep and quiet. “Now, wash my calves.”

So the way this was going was up. My heart beat faster.

I scooped up more sand and ran it over his calf. I tried to massage it, but there was no give: his enormous muscles were as hard as steel. And yet, Urgan gave me another deep grunt.

I cleaned his other calf with sand and water, noticing for the first time that Urgan’s skin, while thick, was hairless. My mind immediately travelled to his thigh and further up, wondering about his groin.

Would there be hair…?

When Urgan’s calves and shins were clean, he said hoarsely: “Wash my knees.”

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