Page 51 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

Then his fingers were everywhere, stroking my sides, lifting my butt to press me against his body. He only hesitated when his hand stroked up to hover over my breast.

“I've never touched one of these before. I saw some, though.” His face darkened.

“Checking out images on Google, were you?” My lips curled up. “See anything you like?”

“They're amazing,” he gushed. “So round and plump-appearing. I don't know what they feel like, but I imagined them.”

Had he jerked off to a few pictures? Maybe he'd let me watch sometime…

“You can touch mine,” I said.

Frowning, he directed his focus on my chest. “Iwouldlike to know.”

“Know in general or know whatminefeel like?” I mean, I wasn't going to be his voyeur experience. If he wanted this, he'd be doing it with me, not some woman he pictured in his mind that he'd seen on Google.

Tark’s gaze snapped up to meet mine. “Yours. I only want to know whatyoursfeel like.”

A thrill shivered through me at the honesty in his eyes.

“You can touch me,” I whispered, suddenly shy despite the warmth pooling between us. “If you want to.”

Tark’s massive hand hovered, trembling slightly as though he feared breaking something fragile. My heart slammed up into my throat in anticipation, and I gently took his hand and guided it down to my chest. “It’s just me. You won't ever hurt me.”

“All of me is big.”

“I kind of felt that while riding here. I'm not afraid about that either.”

He studied my face for a long time before giving me a curt nod. “For too long, I've felt unworthy. Of my place in this world. The love of my brothers. Of you, Gracie.”

That struck a chord deep within me. This man, this powerful, towering orc who could move mountains with his hands feared little old me?

“You’re not unworthy. Especially not of me.”

His breath came out shaky, almost a growl as he leaned in closer, his forehead brushing mine. “You don’t know everything about me. About what I’ve done.”

“Maybe not everything, but I know the male you are right now. The one who holds me like I’m something precious. The one who takes me riding on enormous creatures and is willing to lie in the grass with me and find pictures among the clouds. You're special. Never forget that.”

His gaze snapped toward mine, wide and full of something caught between hope and disbelief. Slowly, I guided his hand across my chest, the heat of his palm sinking through the fabric of my shirt.

His eyes darkened, a storm brewing, about to break. “Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.”

“I won't.”

He stroked his hand across my breast. The sheer contrast of his careful, deliberate touch compared to his enormous strength sent a shiver spiraling across my skin. He froze at the reaction, his fingers twitching. He swallowed as if he was unsure if his hand was allowed to move.

“You can explore. It feels good to be touched there.”

“Orc females don't have breasts. They have fleshy tubes that project from their chest to feed our younglings. They’re longer than you’d think but the palest green. Nearly white, and about the width of my smallest finger. Some say that…” He gulped. “I'm talking too much. Not doing enough.”

“Keep touching. You're doing fine.” Was he a virgin? Or at least a virgin when it came to women?

He pressed a little more firmly, his hand curving to the shape of my breast.

“You're soft,” he rumbled, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. A curious wonder came through in his tone. His fingertips brushed across the underside of my breast, hesitant atfirst, then bolder as he began to trace the nipple with his thumb. A gasp slipped from my mouth, and I arched my body into him.

His gaze snapped up to mine, and panic flickered there. “Did I hurt you?” He pulled his hand back as if he feared he’d done something wrong.

I grabbed his hand, lowering it back onto my chest. “You didn’t hurt me. It felt good. Really good. Especially when you stroked my nipple. Don’t stop.”

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