Page 26 of Vexing the Grumpy Orc

In that moment, she was no mere witch. She was a goddess. My goddess. Wild and untamed, claiming me as her willing sacrifice. The urge to worship her overwhelmed me—to pledge myself to her, to protect her, to give her everything I had and everything I was.

“Hannah,” I breathed, the name a prayer on my tongue. “Hannah.”

Her eyes opened, meeting mine with startling intensity. Something passed between us, something deeper than physical pleasure. Her rhythm faltered as she leaned down to kiss me, her lips soft against mine.

“Touch me,” she murmured against my mouth. “Make me come on your cock.”

I slid my hand between us, finding the slick bud of her clit. Her whole body shuddered as I circled it withmy thumb. She rode me harder, faster. She clung to my shoulders, forehead pressed to mine as she chased her release.

Slick heat bathed my cock as her rhythm grew frantic, her thighs trembling. I knew she was close, could feel it in the way her inner walls fluttered around me. I fought the instinct to roll us again, to pin her and drive into her until she screamed. Until she forgot anyone who came before me.

Until she belonged to me.

“Come for me,” I growled, catching her earlobe between my teeth. “Now, witch.”

Her body obeyed with a long, shuddering moan. Pleasure washed over her face, so fucking beautiful it hurt. Her pussy clenched around me, pulling me impossibly deeper. Ripping my own release from my throat with a roar.

I thrust into her, fucking us both through it until her body went limp and boneless.

She collapsed onto my chest, both of us panting heavily. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as aftershocks rippled through us. The weight of her felt right. Perfect. Like she belonged there.

Mine,something deep inside me whispered.

The thought should have terrified me. Horrified me. Sent me running for the nearest blade to end the threat bewitching me into insanity.

Instead, a strange warmth spread through my chest, settling beneath my ribs like an ember taking root. Myskin tingled where it touched hers, as if my body recognized something my mind refused to name. Something permanent. Unbreakable.

I buried my face in her hair and breathed her in, memorizing the way she felt in my arms, even as I told myself this was temporary. Just pleasure. Nothing more.

Not finding my fated mate in a creature I should hate.

CHAPTER EIGHT

GALAN

The workshop door creaked under my hand. Familiar scents hit me—fresh sawdust, linseed oil, sweat. I paused, throat tight. It had been two days since I’d escorted Hannah and Digby back to her door, two days of patrol routes deliberately avoiding her cottage, two days of failing to outrun memories of her.

Two days wasn’t nearly enough to forget the way she’d looked riding my cock, her hair the fiery halo of the sun cutting through morning mist. Or how right she’d felt in my arms after, her soft curves pressed against me, her scent mingling with mine.

I growled, shoving the door open harder than necessary.

Zral looked up from his workbench, chisel poised over a half-carved piece of cedar. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as he caught my scent.

“Galan.” He set down his tools, wariness written across his features. “What can I do for you?”

I stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind me. Words stuck in my throat. This wasn’t a conversation I’d ever imagined having, especially not with Zral. But Torain was wrapped up in his human mate, and my options were limited.

“This is something I would bring to... well.” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Understanding flashed across Zral’s face, followed by something that might have been hurt. “Torain, yeah.”

The silence stretched between us, heavy with all the ways I’d kept myself apart from the clan. Even as children, I’d been the one watching from the edges. Too serious for Torain’s games, too blunt for Osen’s diplomacy. They didn’t know what to make of a boy who hid in the forest during his father’s rages, and I’d learned early that solitude was safer than connection. The woods didn’t judge or demand or disappoint.

“I—” I started, then stopped, pacing between stacks of lumber. “Have you ever—” No, that wasn’t right either.

“Spit it out,” Zral said, crossing his arms. “Some of us have work to do.”

“It’s a human issue,” I finally managed, the words tumbling out after several false starts.

---