Page 47 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

Ruugar

Icould not forget what I saw.

I should’ve called out before I ducked inside the tent. Should’ve given her a warning. Anything other than barge in like some clumsy fool.

But no. I hadn’t done any of that. Instead, I’d stumbled right in and caught sight of her bare skin in the dim glow of the lantern outside.

And now, I was paying the price.

Heat burned through me like wildfire, impossible to shake as I stomped across the campsite, my body rigid with tension. And my cock… Well, I wasn't going to think about that stiff post in my pants. It needed to calm down. Slump. Forget what I just saw.

Beth had been kneeling there, half-undressed, her curves bathed in soft light. I’d gaped at the swell of her hips, the bare curve of her waist, and the smooth skin of her thighs. Her breasts cupped by the fabric of herundergarment…

It had taken everything in me not to reach out. My fingers had twitched at my sides, the instinct to trace the path where shadow met skin fighting against every shred of discipline I possessed. The knowledge that I had no right to want this, to want her, stung like an open wound. I wouldn’t be able to scrub this moment from my mind no matter how hard I tried.

I'd only read about breasts. Alright, I'd seen a few of them online. It was hard not to look when I decided to find out why human females had mam mounds on their chests when orc females did not. Nipples came along with the visual exploration. The first time I saw them, I stared. Frowned, tilting my phone this way and that. And then I wondered what they'd feel like in my hands. Because, of course, I wanted to touch one.

Now I was wondering what Beth's nipples and mam mounds would feel like in my hands. My mouth. Did males ever touch or suck on them? Because that was all I could think about doing. When I shouldn't. Because I doubted she’d want me touching them, staring at them, or licking them.

Irritated with myself, I groaned and dragged my hands down my face. The pressure in my chest wouldn’t ease. I truly worried something solid had lodged there, because every breath felt too sharp, too heavy. I wanted to shrug this off, to tear free from these wild and feral feelings, but they clung to me, twisting across my bones.

I had no right to look at her like I wanted to roll her onto the sleeping bag and follow her down. Touch every bit of her with my fingers, then follow with my tongue.It was bad enough that I’d kissed her, lost control in a way I never should’ve. But this? Walking in on her when she was vulnerable, when she’d thought she was alone?

Unforgivable.

If I didn’t think it would make things worse, I’d drop to my knees and apologize. From now on, I’d have to keep my eyes on the ground instead of staring at her like some untouched youngling obsessed with his first glimpse of a woman’s body.

She hadn’t screamed or shrieked. She'd just stiffened, her brows shooting up, her mouth parting in shock before I’d bolted from the tent. In the second between her parting lips and my frantic retreat, I saw it. Not fear, not anger. Just shock, wide and unguarded. I thought I might see something else, something I couldn’t let myself name, before I ruined it by running. If I'd stayed, what would she have said?

I couldn’t be in there. Not with her body still haunting me like a brand, not with her scent filling the air, lingering in the space we had to share.

Still pacing, I reached the edge of camp where the sorhoxes had bedded down for the night, their great bodies curled into the thick grass, their tails flicking idly. One of them cracked an eye open at me and snorted, unimpressed by my restless stomping.

I swore and turned, striding toward the cooking gazebo, but that only made things worse. The memories of our evening still clung to the space, from cleaning up in silence to all the things we didn’t say that hovered betweenus all night. The scent of roasted cragroot and grilled lizardloin had faded, leaving behind only the faintest traces of our time together. I kept remembering the way she’d bitten her lip while she mashed the chumbling yolks, the light in her eyes when the guests praised our meal, and the way my heart clenched in my chest knowing this was temporary. We'd worked well together, but it would not last.

I’d made a mistake back in that tent. Two mistakes, technically.

The kiss. I’d been too rough, too forceful, unable to hold back the storm inside me when she had been soft and perfect underneath me. She hadn’t said a word about the kiss, which meant she regretted it. And who could blame her? I’d grabbed her, pinned her to the ground. Climbed all over her. I'd been too much, too intense. Too rough, too demanding.

I left the gazebo and trekked toward the falls, the roar of the river cutting through the emotions pressing down on my chest. Water swept past, mirroring something inside me I couldn’t rein in. Like a flood shoving against the edges of the bank, ready to spill over, drag everything down with it. I wanted to let the sound drown me, erase that moment from my mind, but I knew nothing could wash the sight of Beth inside the tent from my thoughts.

The moon’s reflection glowed on the water, silver ripples dancing along the surface. It should’ve been calming, should’ve soothed the restless drag inside me, but all I could think about was the feel of Beth beneathme, her small hands gripping my shirt, her lips yielding to mine.

Growling, I dug my fingers into my scalp.

What was I supposed to do now? Go back to the tent and apologize? I could beg her to forget everything. Promise it wouldn’t happen again. Or worse, I could give into my cravings and crawl inside and pull her against me, let my hands wander where they shouldn’t. I’d press my face into the crook of her neck and breathe her in because I’d never get the chance again.

No. I could never do anything like that.

Beth might not have pushed me away when I’d kissed her, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t wanted to. She pretty much fell against me. Her mouth…accidentally landed on mine

Human women were different from orc females in so many ways, but the most obvious was their anatomy. Orc females, who were sturdy and broad like our males, had no soft mam mounds on their chests, no delicate curves inviting hands to explore. I’d read about the differences once and searched images online out of curiosity, and I'd been stunned by what I saw. But nothing could compare to the real thing.

Her shirt had been off, leaving her in nothing but those thin undergarments human females wore. And her breasts… By the fates. Never, in all my life, had I thought something could draw my attention like that. Her mam mounds had been small, firm, her dusky nipples shadowing the undergarment. The sight ofthem, even covered, had sent something dark and hungry surging through me.

I pressed my knuckles into my temples and forced my eyes shut.

It didn’t matter how much I wanted her, how much my body reacted like I was some untouched youngling finally seeing my first glimpse of a woman’s body. We weren’t a couple. We might never be one.

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