Page 48 of How To Woo A Warrior Orc

I laugh, then tsk at him. “Exactly, how dare you spend all week giving me the best sex of my life, making me feel loved, and helping me prepare for the festival? Uncalled for.”

“I’m glad you feel loved,” he whispers.

I hold my breath, waiting.

“I know it’s early, I know I shouldn’t say anything, but orcs… we aren’t like humans. You are it for me, Piper, and I am falling in love with you.”

I knock the parcel out of his hands and jump on him, showering his face in delighted kisses. “I love you too, Ga’Rek. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, and I like knowing where I stand with you. I don’t want a human, or a fae, or a minotaur, or another orc. I want you. Only you.”

I kiss him on the mouth, and it deepens, until he finally pushes me away with a laugh.

“We didn’t work this hard to have you be late for your big event,” he says.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “Besides, you promised you were going to have your way with me at the event. Might as well save it for the right moment.”

A guttural growl comes out of him, and I give him my best seductive smile.

Which, of course, makes him laugh.

“Here,” he says, picking up the parcel from the floor and handing it to me.

“You do not have to buy me presents,” I tell him.

He starts to say something, but I hold up a hand. “But I am very glad you did.”

We both laugh at that, and I untie the string, then attack the paper wrapping.

Carefully, I lift the lid off the box, and my breath catches at what’s inside.

“You got the dress?” I ask, my voice climbing an octave.

“I got the dress. That night, in fact. There was no way I wouldn’t have gotten it for you.” He grins.

I melt.

The midnight-soaked dress, spangled with silver thread stars, sits in the box, ready to be worn.

“I’m wearing it tonight,” I announce.

“Good,” Ga’Rek says, now grinning slyly. “Because I fully plan to fuck you in it. We don’t have time now, though, so consider this a warning.”

I glance at the clock on the wall and swear. “You’re right. We need to hurry. We don’t have time at all.”

“Relax, sweetheart. You’re going to be perfect as always.”

“I am not always perfect,” I say, grinning at his absurd statement.

He just stares at me seriously, cupping my cheek with his hand. “You are to me.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

GA’REK

The autumn festival is unlike any event I’ve ever attended.

For one, there aren’t any public tortures or executions, which is decidedly in Wild Oak Woods’ favor.

There are, however, fire-eaters, who manage not to set the canvas tent on fire, thanks to a bundle of fire-proof enchantments we had Nerissa cook up around their stage. A dryad dances in suspended silks in another entertainment space, mesmerizing and attracting a large crowd. Two bards work the interior of the tent, one with a guitar and one with a fiddle, walking amongst the citizens and those who’ve driven in for the festival.

---