Page 31 of Alien Orc's Prize

I dragged my hand across my forehead, only now becoming aware of how sweaty I was, and how smeared with seaweed sludge my face and hands were.

“I was…” I gestured around the room, feeling suddenly like all the things I’d created, all the things I’d gotten excited about, were useless. Like I was a silly child presenting a pie made of mud to an uncharitably discerning adult. “I was trying to come up with some interesting recipes for the seaweed. I thought it might help.”

God. I sounded lame. Here Galbrath was with potential starvation, chaos, or revolts on his doorstep and I was goofing around in the kitchen, singing songs and playing chef. As if that meant anything at all.Why did I think this was a good idea, again?

Galbrath listened to me finish speaking, then swept his demanding gaze around the room once more. He picked up one of the finished scones then held it aloft with a questioning rise of his brows.

“You can eat it,” I confirmed, my cheeks feeling very hot. I twisted the hem of my shirt between my fingers, anxiety piling into me like a starship at full speed. “But, just know the recipes aren’t perfected yet! I was planning to keep developing that one. And a bunch of others!” I added in a hurry as he sniffed the scone. Then, with nary a nibble to even see if he liked it first, he opened his big mouth wide and shoved the entire thing inside.

I stared, jaw slack, as he chewed. It seemed to take a very, very long time, during which I asked myself a thousand questions about whether the scone was too dense, too dry, and whether he’d try to divorce me now or not.

But I guessed I was worrying for nothing. Because when he finally swallowed, he looked at me as if with new eyes and said, “Good.”

Then he went to the soup. After lifting the pot and drinking a bunch of it, he set it down, swiped his hand across his wet mouth, turned to me and said, “Verygood.”

“I should hope so!” I said, shaking my head and glancing into the large pot to see it nearly empty now, “considering how much you’re having!”

He gave a gristly sort of grunt.

“Didn’t eat dinner. Like I said, I was late. And I wanted to find you first.”

My belly warmed at the idea that the first thing he’d wanted to do when he’d returned was find me. Not rest, not have a bath, not eat.Find me

“Well, they do say that hunger is the best seasoning,” I joked, squirming a little bit under the twin black spears of his eyes.

“It’s not just that, though,” he said sternly, sifting his fingers through flour nearly as green as his skin before turning back to me. “It’s good. Good all on its own.”

He stepped closer, backing me up until my spine hit a nearby countertop. His hands went to the counter on either side, his broad torso caging me in.

“Why did you do all this?”

“I’ve always liked cooking,” I stammered, finding it just a little hard to speak now that his nose was pressed up against my jaw, huffing in my scent like it was shuttle fumes to get him high, “and I wanted to… be useful. To help.”

“To help me?”

“Yes!” I squeaked as two big hands suddenly cupped my breasts, kneading the way I’d been kneading dough not long ago. “Help you. And your people. Just… everyone.”

Galbrath didn’t remove his hands, but he did stop the massaging motion. He pulled back, just a little, just enough to look down into my face. The expression there took my breath away. It was one I hadn’t seen from him before. The broad plainsof his cheekbones were tight, his eyes penetrating like always but shaped with something between pain and longing. It made me want to blink and turn away, as if I were staring directly into the sun.

Instead, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him.

He stiffened as my mouth went to the surprisingly soft place between his tusks.

“What are you doing?” he murmured against my lips. I drew back, embarrassment simmering my blood.

“I’m kissing you. Sorry. Is that not a thing here?”

“I don’t…” He exhaled swiftly. “I don’t understand what to do with my tusks when you do that.”

“You seemed to figure it out just fine when you were kissing me somewhere else,” I reminded him.

“That’s because I was mostly using my tongue.”

“Here… just… let me,” I whispered. I approached his mouth slowly this time, as if he might get spooked and bolt. But I should have known that would never happen. I doubted Galbrath was truly scared of anything.

He remained utterly motionless as I gently kissed his lips. His mouth was wide enough that my own could fit easily between his tusks. I buried my fingers in his hair and sighed against his lips, pressing and prodding gently, running my tongue along his skin, until I felt him shudder violently. He seized my waist and lifted me until I was seated on the counter. I gasped as he crowded himself in between my legs, then moaned when he began furiously rubbing the bulge of his hard cock against my pelvis.

“I want to knot you,” he groaned, thrusting against me almost as if he were thrusting into me. “Want it so bad. Want to try tonight.”

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