Page 52 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

He stared at me, his brows furrowed like he was trying to decipher a code. “I don’t understand,” he admitted, his voice incredibly vulnerable. “How can something so simple feel so powerful?”

I cupped his cheek. “It’s not about the touch. It’s about trust, about connection. When it’s with someone you care about, it’s not simple at all. It’s everything.”

A war raged in his eyes. I sensed he wanted to believe me, but part of him still doubted. Who had kicked this guy's confidence so far down the road he couldn't catch up? Maybe he’d been told too many times that he wasn’t enough, that he didn’t deserve this kind of closeness, this kind of affection. I hated whoever had made him feel this way.

“You deserve this, Tark,” I said. “You deserve to feel wanted, to feel everything life has to offer.”

“So do you,” he said gruffly.

“Would you like to touch them without any clothing?”

His breath sucked inward. “That's allowed?”

“It's wanted.” I let my smile trickle through. “It feels even better.”

Gulping, he bobbed his head.

I urged him to back up and sat, tugging my shirt over my head, tossing it aside. I unfastened my bra and sent it to the grass too. Then I watched him stare at me. Gape at me. Honestly, the way he gaped and swallowed was a major turn-on. I hadn'tbeen this aroused in… I wasn't sure if I'd ever felt this aroused, and he'd barely touched me.

“Have you been with someone before?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Have you loved someone?”

“Not completely yet.”

“Did she die?” The words popped out.

He frowned. “Did who die?”

“The female you loved.”

“Oh, Gracie.” His face cleared, and his lips curled up on one side. “There is no other female. Only you.” The last came out in a croak.

My giddy heart flipped over. He didn’t love anyone else. There was no one pining for him back at the orc kingdom. He was implying I was the only person he saw. The realization settled within me, making something deep inside me bloom.

“I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready,” I said.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do than touch you.”

“I want you to, then,” I said. Inside, I internally shouted. Heat was pooling between my legs, and I'd almost kill to feel his fingers on my breast. His tongue wherever he ached to put it. And yes, that big cock I'd felt prodding my backside as we rode.

“Alright, I will,” he said firmly. Both of his hands lifted, and he hovered them in front of my breasts, shooting looks from them to my face and back again before he laid them on me.

“The nipples in the center are the most arousing. You can roll them, stroke them, and they'll pucker. If you suck on them?—”

“Like a youngling would?” He almost sounded scandalized.

I did all I could do not to smile. “Yeah, like a youngling would. There’s no milk because I haven't had a baby.”

“Yes, a male would never touch the milk.”

Oh yes, they would. Given permission, they’d suck to their heart's content.

He did as I suggested, first rolling my nipples before cupping my breasts and stroking them with his thumbs. Such an intent look on his face, as if I was a puzzle he ached to solve. As he continued to stroke me, it was all I could do not to swoon.

Would he want to take this all the way? He'd suggested that, but it wasn't clear.

“I want to suck on them,” he growled.

I couldn't miss the big bulge in his pants, a thick length prodding the fabric. It made my saliva go down too thick.

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