Page 75 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

“I did it.” His eyes shot to mine.

“You did.” My pulse pounded as he slid the elastic waistband down, baring more of me with each slow inch until the pants hung around my knees.

His breath caught. A quiet moment stretched between us, thick with anticipation. Then, his fingers, rough and warm, traced the curve of my hip.

I shivered. “You’re staring.”

“I have never seen this,” he said, voice hushed, full of awe. “Not like this. Up close. Beautiful.”

“Sure you did. In the meadow.”

“That was in sunlight. Now I'm seeing you in moonlight. I want to see you in every light there is.”

“We'll find them and you will.” Emotion caught in my throat. I cupped his face, tilting his chin so his gaze met mine again. “I feel the same about you.”

His throat bobbed. Slowly, he finished easing my pants down and away. My underwear too. The moment I lay beneath himcompletely bare, his whole body tensed. His nostrils flared as his gaze roamed, not only with hunger, but with something deeper. Something sweeter that was completely his own.

“You are…” His head tilted, his words failing. Instead, his fingers traced my ribs, creating a path light as air. “Perfect.”

Heat rushed through me, not only from his touch but from the way he looked at me, like I was something he’d never be able to get enough of.

I reached for him, curling my fingers around the waistband of his pants. “You too.”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t shy away. He let me unfasten them and work them down, shifting to help until they slid off, joining the pile on the floor. His own orc-version of an undergarment followed, and the last barrier between us fell away. We finally were skin to skin, warmth against warmth.

His body pressed over mine, but he kept his weight from fully settling, his arms braced around me. His restraint only made me ache more. I ran my palms over his sides, savoring the bunch of his muscles.

“Tark.” I tugged him closer.

His forehead dropped to mine. “I am trying to go slow.”

“You’re doing perfect.” I smiled, tracing the back of his neck. “But I don’t need slow. I need you. Give me some of that redness. You've been holding out on me for much too long.”

A snort erupted from his mouth. “Funny.”

“That's me. Humor all night long.”

“I like that we can laugh, even about this.”

“It relieves the tension, doesn't it? Takes some of that pressure off. We did great the other day, but I know there will be times when it might not work for one of us, and that's okay too. We're together, showing the other that we care, and that's the most meaningful part of this.”

“You say such nice things.”

“I say them to you, Tark. I love you. Some would say I've fallen too fast, but I think if you meet the right one, you just know.”

He lifted his hand, turning it to show the round symbol that matched my own. “Gracie Weeks? I need to tell you that this is a mating mark. It appeared when I first touched you, and I think yours appeared after that day in the meadow. For orcs, this means we've met our fated one, the person we'll adore until our dying day and beyond.” His gaze met mine. “That's you, Gracie. You.” He pressed a fist against his chest. “I will love you forever, Gracie. I hope that's alright with you.”

“Totally.”

“Totally.” He mimicked with a low laugh, his shy smile rising.

“Does this mean we're married?”

“For orcs, it does.”

“Cool.”

“Yes, cool.” His features tightened. “I think I need to kiss you and get started giving you that redness now.”

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