Page 38 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

But this feelsnothinglike before.

His hands glide down my back to cup my butt, pulling me higher so we’re face to face. His dark eyes rove over me as if memorizing every line of my features, something bordering on a frown pinching his brow and throwing his green cheekbones into sharp relief. He’s so handsome it makes my heart race.

Moving with deliberate slowness, Dravarr kisses my cheek, his lips firm and soft, his beard brushing extra sensation across my skin. His tusks give a light scrape, and I shiver. He growls and repeats his attention on my other cheek, then my nose, my forehead. I never thought of those as sexy places before, but every teasing touch winds the string of tension running through me tighter and tighter.

His voice is a husky rasp. “These freckles of yours.”

“Yes?” It emerges in a puff of soft breath.

“I’m going to kiss every one of them.”

“Yes!” My mind sticks on this one word, but at least it’s a good one. I have alotof freckles, and his promise short-circuits all thought.

He kisses his way down one side of my neck in a slow slide, then back up the other. Each touch of his lips, his tusks, makes me tremble. I hang helplessly in his grip, caught in this prolonged moment of anticipation until he faces me again, his dark eyes locked on my lips.

I can’t breathe. Is he going to kiss me,reallykiss me? A soft whimper of need escapes me.

Dravarr smiles, hot and wicked.

Oh, god. If he was good looking before, now he’s devastatingly handsome. My core clenches.

He moves closer, closer, drawing it out in a slow tease that has my lips tingling even before we touch.

A soft brush, then a retreat, and another soft brush as he tastes me with little flicks of his tongue. I feel cherished, such as I’ve never been before, the handful of men of my past reduced to sweaty, quick fumblings compared to this careful assault on my senses.

My hands knead at the back of his neck, drift upward to bury in his silky hair, starting to loosen from its braid.

Dravarr groans into my mouth, the sound resonating through both of us. In a flash, he unleashes all of his hunger. His fingers tighten on my butt, crushing me to him. My breasts flatten against the firmness of his chest, my nipples pebbling at the delicious pressure.

His mouth eats at mine like a man starved, deep drugging kisses that demand all of my attention. Our tongues twine, sending zips of electricity straight to my core. My legs tighten around him, pushing my clit against his flat stomach, and I move, seeking friction on that most sensitive spot.

He kisses me as if kissing is enough, as if he’d be happy to do nothing but this for an eternity.

I’m not so patient. The next time our mouths break apart, each of us panting for breath, I pull my hands around to grip fistfuls of his shirt and slide down on his body. My center glides over the top of his erection, then down, and my thighs retighten. Fire shoots through me as I undulate against him, giving into my body’s needs.

He growls, his hands moving to my hips and helping me ride him. His head tips back, his mouth open to bare his tusks, the strong tendons of his neck standing out in stark relief. His smell, leather and pine and something unarguably male andhim, fills my nose as I pant, trying to keep up with my speeding heart.

God, I’m so turned on I could come from simply this.

But Dravarr has other ideas. His grip tightens, pulling me to stillness as he sucks in several deep breaths, his entire body vibrating with tension. Then he’s moving, crouching to pick up my broomstick. “Here.” He touches it against the back of one of my hands.

As soon as I grip it, he peels off my other hand and adds it to the broomstick, which he lifts above my head. Then he pulls my legs from around his waist until I hang suspended in the air in front of him, dangling from my broomstick.

Another wicked grin sends a jolt of lust through me as he leans forward to kiss where the deep V of the front of my dress shows my upper chest. Dravarr’s mouth works across my bare skin in a line of soft kisses and scrapes of his tusks, the warring sensations making me squirm. His nose moves my still-glowing pendant out of the way to get to even more freckles.

His fingers burn across me as he teases along the top of my dress before pushing it aside to bare the pink triangle of my bra. He tugs at it. “Do you need this vexing thing?”

“Yes,” I gasp, imagining the back pain of going without a bra. “I need the support.”

With a grunt, he slides it under my breast so that it makes an improvised corset that lifts my nipple toward his mouth. Continuing to tease, he licks and kisses all over, circling slowly inward to the needy tip. By the time his mouth closes over my nipple with wet heat, I’m panting, my heart pounding like I’m running.

Dravarr frees my other breast, taking his time kissing every freckle, before finally, plumping it up and bringing the tight nipple to his mouth. He teases his tusks over the peak, first one, then the other. He pulls it into his mouth in one big gulp, sucking hard, and the tingling sensation shoots straight to my clit.

“Oh, god!” I grip the broomstick, longing to touch him. But the way he’s set me up, hanging in the air like this, gives him all the control.

And it’s hot as hell.

Pulling the hem of my skirt out of my pants, he tucks the front into the space between my breasts, the backs of his fingers hot on my skin. It leaves a wide V of me uncovered in front so my stomach and legs show, but for the leather pants. Those teasing fingers dip inside the waistband to run from my sides to my front, where they make quick work of unfastening the closure. He pushes the broomstick higher until I float with my hips in front of his face. Once he’s pulled off my shoes and socks, he peels the pants down my legs in a long, sensual glide, kissing each freckle he finds along the way.

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