Page 35 of Bound to the Orc King

But it felt right, in this place of peace and beauty. Sunlight bathed the glen in warmth, sparkling off the waterfall and turning it into a tumble of diamonds. Every time he tried to get up and do something constructive, I got him to lie back down beside me and just be in the moment.

The longer we held still, the more wildlife visited, little squirrels and mice sipping from the pond. Ten minutes ago, a couple of deer picked their way to the water, their dainty legs deceptively strong when they heard something and bolted back into the trees. Even now, birds wing overhead, trilling out happy songs, the bright flash of golden wings turned molten by sunshine.

Aldronn packs away the morning dishes and cook pot and the single mug. His body vibrates with pent up energy, his hand drifting to his sword hilt. He’s reached his limit. Guy can’t even go a single day without being productive.

I stand and stretch, arms lifted high, back arched. “You know what? I’m feeling a lot better.” It’s no lie. “Why don’t you go and hunt?”

“We have venison.” He gestures to where he stored several large pieces of meat in special leather bags spelled to keep food fresh.

“But do we have potatoes?” I grin. “I’m going to lose my pixie best-friend card if we don’t make them potato pizza again.”

His lips twitch.

“I love your home fries, too,” I say. “They might be my new favorite thing.”

“In that case, I will do as you bid, my little queen.” He tips his head, and humor quirks his lips.

Warmth pools low in my belly. I like his playfulness a lot.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” His voice goes deep and husky as he steps closer. “Any other favorites?”

That voice combined with the look in his eye issonot making me think about food. When he cocks his brow and gives me a knowing look, I shake off my lust daze.

“Hazelnuts? Can we have more hazelnuts? I love them.” It’s only a partial lie. The hazelnuts here taste amazing, the flavor dialed up to eleven, but that’s not why I want them. No, what I want is to watch those strong, capable hands of his crack the hard shells. To see his big fingers work with amazing precision to tease out each small piece of nutty goodness.

To imagine those hands on me, plucking pleasure from my body just as expertly.

Something must show on my face, because even more heat fills his dark eyes, and his deep voice thrums with wicked promise. “It will be so.”

My pulse quickens as I imagine he offered to fulfill my hidden desires instead of talking about dinner. Is he actually thinking dirty thoughts, or am I seeing what I want to see? Without realizing I’m going to do it, my power pulses for a split second, and I wince as a spike of pain flares behind my right eye.

“What is it?” Aldronn’s hands grip my shoulders, his eyes searching my face.

“I tried to use my magic.” At his scowl, I say, “I didn’t mean to!”

“It hurt you.”

“Just a little headache. Already better.” It’s not a lie. The pain faded as quickly as it came. “And at least the rest of my body didn’t feel like my nerves were burning.”

“That’s good, but you need more recovery time.” He lets go and steps away. “I’ll return soon with hazelnuts and potatoes so that you will dine well this evening.”

His long legs eat the ground as he strides away, his large body slipping between the trees with a stealth that should be impossible for his size. In no time at all, he’s out of sight.

Damn. There goes my shot at trying orgasm therapy. Aren’t orgasms supposed to make you heal faster or something?

A noise jerks me awake. I push up to sitting, the soft moss pillowy beneath my palms. A yawn cracks my jaw. As much as I hate to admit Aldronn’s right about me needing more rest, I can’t believe I fell asleep.

My head swivels. Where is he? I assume he’s what woke me. I have no idea how long I slept, but it couldn’t have been long because the sun’s dropped only a little bit.

A high cry carries over the sound of falling water. It’s sure as shit not Aldronn’s deep voice, and the pixies usually only come out once it’s fully dark, so who is it?

Splashing yanks my gaze upward.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

The kelpiefreakinggallops down the waterfall like she’s running on flat ground. The ogre on her back keeps his seat even though he should have fallen off the second she started her descent. It all looks like something out of an Escher drawing, with gravity sticking the peoples’ feet to the floor, even when that “floor” curves upward into a wall or ceiling.

The kelpie’s front hooves touch the top of the pond, and she leaps forward, running across the surface instead of sinking in. It should be utterly impossible, but what’s one more impossible thing in this world of wonders?

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