Page 40 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc
I kiss her back, all my carefully constructed intentions to take things slow crumbling like a card castle. My hands find her waist, pulling her closer until she's flush against my raging erection. She makes a small sound of surprise that turns into a sigh of pleasure, and I'm lost. Completely, utterly lost to the feel of her, the taste of her, the way she melts against me like she belongs there.
Like she's mine.
Chapter Sixteen
Cassidy
Thekissdeepensasmy lips part instinctively between his tusks, fitting perfectly in that space as his tongue claims me. The taste of him is intoxicating, wild and masculine, making my belly quiver and my brain go into overdrive. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as his tongue explores my mouth with deliberate, possessive strokes that make my knees go weak.
My lungs burn for air, but I don't want to break away. His mouth moves against mine with increasing hunger, like he's trying to devour every gasp and whimper I make. I meet his passionwith my own, my fingers digging into the hard muscles of his arms as waves of desire course through my body.
His large hands slide down my spine, leaving trails of heat in their wake before gripping my hips. The push of a monstrous erection digs into the soft flesh of my belly, making that needy heat pool down between my legs. The feeling of his rough palms pressing into my flesh makes me arch against him with a moan. One hand moves lower to cup my ass, pulling me firmly against him while the other traces up my side, hesitating just below my breast.
When his thumb finally brushes against the curve of my breast through my shirt, my nipples instantly harden into tight peaks. The touch sends sparks of pleasure straight to my core.
He breaks the kiss and stares at me, waiting for a permission I’m way too eager to give.
I press myself more firmly into his palm, arching my back to push my breast fully into his grip.
"Please," I whisper against his mouth. "Touch me, Gerralt."
His growl of approval vibrates through my chest as he palms my breast, his thumb circling my nipple through the thin fabric. I gasp at the sensation, my body melting into his touch as his mouth reclaims mine with renewed passion.
The kitchen around us fades, the gleam of new appliances and faint tang of fresh paint losing ground to the primal scent of him, pine and freshly cut wood, and something raw that makes my pulse hammer. His shirt is in my hands, bunched in my fists, and I urgently drag it up until he yanks it off himself. The sound of fabric tearing barely registers in the back of my mind, my breath catching at the sight before me.
Oh my! Is all I can think as I look at Gerralt’s naked torso.
The sculpted planes of his chest are a testament to years of physical labor, each muscle defined and hard beneath all that smooth green skin. His nipples are hard and dark green against the expanse of skin. He's gorgeous in a way that makes my mouth go dry, broad and powerful, with a dusting of dark hair trailing down his abdomen. I get the dizzying impulse to lick my way from his nipples all the way down to that V below his belly button. My fingers reach reverently, barely brushing the warm skin as I take the measure of his pure, sheer power.
To say he’s sculptural is an understatement. It’s like whoever invented that word had Gerralt in mind.
"You're beautiful," I whisper, voice thick with want as I explore the ridges and valleys of his chest. His breath hitches when I let my hand wander down below his belly button.
"Careful, Princess," he growls, but there's a tenderness in his eyes that makes my heart flutter. “Play with fire and you’ll get burned.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m after,” I say, locking gazes with him. “A little burning.”
We’re almost level, he and I, as he sits in the chair. His amber eyes are a shade darker and the rugged lines of his face are tense. He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and I just know that I can’t turn away from this.
I hold his gaze as my hands drift lower and lower over his pants until the hard length of him strains against my palm through the fabric. As my fingers curl around the impossibly long and hard erection, he makes a sound that's half groan, half snarl. Even through the thickcotton, I can feel how massive he is, how hot, and the thought of him inside me makes me febrile with need and anticipation.
I know I’ve never had a man so large before. I know I should be scared. But that need pulses between my legs, refusing to be denied.
"Go ahead," I whisper, squeezing gently, feeling him throb beneath my touch. His hands ball into fists at his sides, restraint evident in every tense line of his body. “Burn me.”
The growl that grows in his chest echoes all the way to my needy clit and my mouth hangs open.
"Cassidy," he rumbles, his voice a gravelly purr that reverberates through my chest. He moves, placing his hands on my waist, and before I know it, he's lifting me with an ease that makes me feel weightless. He places me on the cool granite countertop, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he pulls me closer.
I flatten my hands on his chest and he obediently stays back, his face strained and his gaze ravenous. The air between us crackles as I slowly lift my hands to the hem of my shirt, hesitating briefly as I expose my midriff, before tugging it over my head and discarding the piece of clothing on the floor. His gaze stays on me, his features twisting in a mask of pure male hunger. I swallow, my heart pounding, and slowly unclasp my bra, letting it slide down my arms. My nipples instantly harden into tiny pebbles as the cool air caresses my naked skin.
The next second, it joins my t-shirt on the floor. I'm laid bare before him, vulnerable and exposed. Slowly, like in a trance, his eyes lower to my chest, his expression one of reverence, his eyes dark and filled with a burning desire that sends a rush of heat through me.
The air in the kitchen feels like its filled with July Fourth sparklers as Gerralt's gaze rakes over my exposed skin, his eyes darkening. He reaches up and my heart skips a beat. Or two.
Gerralt's hands skim my sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, making my breath hitch and my skin prickle with goosebumps. He bends his head, his warm breath teasing my neck, and his lips leave a trail of fire as he kisses his way to my shoulder blades, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin.
I’m panting by the time his hot, wet mouth reaches the top of my chest and my brain refuses to formulate a single coherent thought.
