Page 87 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

I stand in only my pink undies.

“These infuriating scraps of pink,” he growls, without any true ire in the words. His fingers tease along the triangular cup of my bra, and I shiver. “How they haunt me.”

He’s made a study of the clasp, and the bra falls open in the back, his fingers amazingly gentle as he slides the straps forward off my shoulders. The look in his eyes as he removes my panties makes my heart skip. Love, so much love.

He sits back on his heels, his gaze roving over me before meeting my eyes. “My bride, I am undone by your beauty.”

Dravarr’s far less patient with his own clothes, and I can’t complain that he’s soon naked, the wide head of his erection already weeping fluid.

“Come. Let’s use the bath before I forget why I brought you in here.” He scoops me up into his arms.

“I thought it was to get naked.” I wiggle against him, loving the feel of skin on skin. “Mission accomplished.”

“Witch,” he groans and steps into the tub, sinking with me on his lap.

The water flows up over me in liquid heat, the smell of flowers and herbs heady and strong. A shiver of magic tingles over my skin, intensifying in a small flare of pain at every injury.

A gasp escapes me, and he scowls. “Is it too much?”

But even as he’s talking, the sensation dies down to a dull ache. “No, I’m okay. It just surprised me.”

He ducks me under, then shakes his hair free from his braid and repeats the same for himself. When he comes up out of the water, he slicks the long inky strands back behind his pointed ears in a perfect fall of black silk. His green skin glistens, his beard sparkling with a million tiny diamonds of water reflecting the window’s light. He’s so gorgeous my heart stops for a moment, then beats double time.

“The herbs were infused by a healer from another village.” Dravarr lifts one of my arms from the water, and I gape. All of my open wounds of only a moment before have been replaced by the pink skin of a good week’s healing. “We save them for special occasions.”

“This is special?”

His eyes bore into mine as his arms tighten around me. “My bride, my amazing moon bound bride, today, I will knot you and claim you fully as mine.”

“Yes.” It escapes as a little puff of breath.

Then his lips take mine, a growl rumbling through his chest, throughme, until my clit tingles to full life.

After his first furious rush, he slows, giving me long drugging kisses that flow through my body like waves of thick honey, sweet and heady. My core tightens with every slow lick, every gentle nip of tusk until every bit of me heats with a delicious burn of pleasure.

Dravarr licks into my mouth one final time, then pulls back. His smoldering eyes track the movement as he drags his thumb back and forth over my lower lip. “I love seeing you like this,” he growls. “So reddened and needy.”

I whine, moving against him until his cock presses into the side of my thigh, hard and thick, the balls of his piercings promising pure pleasure.

He moves, trying to reposition us, and one knee clangs into the metal side of the tub. “I’ve had enough of bathing. I want you with nothing in my way.”

I nod and wrap my arms around his neck as he stands, the water streaming from both of us. The room isn’t cold, but the change in temperature is shocking, and I burrow into his warmth, wanting him to cover me in his heat, his hardness.

His love.

Dravarr wraps me in a huge towel, and dries himself quickly, the cloth spelled to be extra absorbent. Then he blots my hair dry before rubbing the soft fabric over every inch of my skin until I’m squirming with the need for his hands on me instead.

A wicked grin curls his lips, and he leans forward slowly to press a kiss to the top of my shoulder. “I don’t think I got this freckle last time.” His mouth moves over me in delicious licks of fire that go straight to my clit. “Or this one.”

Oh, god, he’s going to kill me. A needy little whimper escapes me, and my fingers thread through the thick heaviness of his hair, holding him to me.

He sweeps me off my feet, and strides out, across the living room, and to the door to the bedroom. Wicked promise fills his eyes. “Here’s the thresholdIwant to carry you over.”

And he does, carrying me effortlessly to the bed. The rich furs caress my back with luxurious softness as he lowers me to them. Then he flips me over, his huge hands gentle yet relentless as he arranges me on my stomach, my nipples hard pebbles of pure sensation as they rub across the furs.

Dravarr settles over me, his mouth hot on the back of my shoulder. “Now, where was I?”

“Please.” I raise my hips, hoping to feel more of his weight on me.

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