Page 24 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

I should have knownI couldn’t run away from him a second—third? Fourth?—time. Those other times he’d let me go.

But now?

Vartok’s hand closed around my wrist before I made it out from the open building. I could have fought him; I could have swung on him; I could have hit or screamed, or all the other tricks my mother had taught me when we lived in town with men who saw us as weak and available to slake their needs.

And I knew if I’d done that to Vartok, he would have released me immediately, horrified that I thought it necessary.

But I didn’t do any of those things. Because, truthfully? I liked the way he held me.

And I hated myself for liking it.

“What?” I snapped as he swung me around, irritated at my response to him.

“We werenae done speaking, my pretty little pet.”

See? That’s all I was to him.

“I am not yourpet,” I snarled at him.

“Aye, ye are.”

His grin was irreverent. Charming. Annoying as hell.

“Ye growl. Ye moan.” He leaned down and his breath tickled my ear. “Do ye bite as well, love?”

I couldn’t help it; my throat had gone dry, my stomach tight with anticipation at the promise his nearness implied. And, lower, my core pulsed until I had to push my thighs together to hide my reaction.

From his wicked smile, it didn’t work.

Humming, he nuzzled at my ear. “I think ye need another lesson in pleasure,dkaar.”

He was too close for me to think straight.

“That word,” I demanded, stalling. “What does it mean?”

Ignoring me, Vartok’s mouth moved to the sensitive spot beneath my ear. Not kissing, just…speaking. Against my skin.

“I think ye need to learn to let go, that ye dinnae always have to be strong. Allow someone else the control.”

Last night, I’d done that.

And it had feltremarkable.

Is that what he meant? Could I do it again?

Only if you remember you are becoming just another one of his conquests.

How did I feel about that?

“Myra…” He murmured, as his hand ran up my arm. “Let me teach ye about pleasure.”

I couldn’t help the way I whimpered, the way I swayed toward him. I suppose my decision had been made, and I swore to myself that if he mocked me in victory, I would kick him.

He didn’t.

Instead, Vartok straightened, moving away from me, and I’ll admit I felt a moment of loss before he took both my hands in his…and dropped to one knee.

Startled, I stumbled a step backward.

---