Page 43 of Her Orc Blacksmith

Vorgath took up two-thirds of my bed, but I couldn’t exactly complain when he was so skilled at making every remaining inch feel like paradise. He lay on his back, one massive arm slung over me, his warmth radiating through the faded quilt like he was a living furnace. I wasn’t cold. Not even close. And judging by the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, Vorgath was perfectly content where he was.

Carefully, I shifted a little, just enough to get a better look at him. The soft morning light filtering through the curtains played across his features, casting shadows over the bold black swirls of his tattoos. The intricate patterns curled over his arms and chest, dark marks of both heritage and the life he’d lived before we ever crossed paths. I let my eyes linger on them, marveling at how they seemed to follow the natural strength of his muscles, accentuating the power that came so easily to him.

His hair, shaggy and thick, lay tousled across the pillow, and his beard framed his face, giving him a rugged look that suitedhim all too well. One arm rested protectively across me, his hand spanning half my waist like it belonged there.

I should get up. There were things to do. Elias would be awake soon, and breakfast wasn’t going to make itself. But the idea of moving from this spot felt like an impossible task.

Just a few more minutes.

“Planning your escape?” Vorgath’s deep voice rumbled.

I yelped in surprise, only to have his grip tighten around me, pulling me closer until I was practically lying on top of him. “You’re awake?”

“Have been.” His eyes fluttered open. “I can hear you think, you know.”

“Well, I wasnotplanning my escape,” I mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss to his massive shoulder. “I’m just considering breakfast.”

“Mm. You were thinking about food?” he teased, squeezing my bottom through my nightgown.

Heat rose to my cheeks immediately. “Among other things,” I shot back.

Vorgath grunted, a sound that was half amusement, half disbelief. His hand moved up to my hip, and just like that, my pulse started to sprint like it had been doing every morning for the last week.

Had it really only been a week since the Tinkerers' Faire? Since the alley and the heat between us that had nearly melted me into a puddle? Somehow, it felt like Vorgath had always been here, and not just in my bed. Sure, there had been a fair amount ofpractice, but there were quiet moments, too, like after dinner when Elias fell asleep on the couch while we read together. Vorgath would carry him to bed, and then we’d sit by the fire, sipping tea in companionable silence before retiring.

Retiring. A word I never thought I’d use for sharing a bedroom with an orc—one who now nuzzled into the crook of my neck with a low, satisfied growl that sent shivers down my spine.

“So,” I murmured, running a hand across his broad chest. “Are you going to help me, or are you planning to keep distracting me?”

Vorgath leaned up on one elbow. “Distracting you seems more enjoyable.” His lips brushed against my neck, making me shiver.

I swatted him playfully on the chest, though it felt a bit like smacking a brick wall. “You’re impossible,” I huffed, though the way my pulse skyrocketed when his lips skimmed my skin told a different story.

“I am, yes,” Vorgath confirmed. His hand lowered, subtly squeezing my waist, and I thought of what those fingers did to me last night...

“Alright,” I muttered, forcing myself to slide out from underneath his arm. “We have to get up before Elias catches us.”

Vorgath groaned. “As if he doesn't know.”

“Know what?” I asked. “He's seven. He doesn't know anything.”

Vorgath chuckled softly, rolling onto his back and stretching in a way that made his muscles bunch and ripple under the blanket. “Seven isn’t as innocent as you think.”

Rolling out of bed and tugging on my robe, I shot him a look as I tied it around my waist. “I choose to believe that he doesn't know what his mother and her, er—”

“—orc boyfriend—” Vorgath offered.

“—mentor,” I corrected, though my voice betrayed a playful note, “are doing behind closed doors.”

The bed creaked as he stood, his heavy footfalls following me toward the kitchen. As he entered behind me, his presence filled the small space, his broad shoulders nearly touching both walls as he moved to the stove. Without a word, he began stokingthe fire while I gathered ingredients for breakfast. We moved around each other with an ease that felt both new and familiar, like we'd been doing this dance for years instead of days.

I cracked eggs into a bowl, stealing glances at Vorgath as he sliced bread.

“You're staring,” Vorgath rumbled without looking up.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I'm supervising,” I quipped back, earning a low chuckle from him.

Vorgath leaned in, his breath warm on my neck. “Supervising, hmm?”

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