Page 15 of Bred By the Orc
I rolled her nipple again with this question, my tongue mere inches from the exposed skin of her shoulder. So, when she whimpered a positive response, grinding her hand against herself, I knew she was ready.
‘Twas late enough in the day that we could stop, and by this point—thanks to all thedoubling-back we’d done, I knew we weren’t being followed by her father’s men. I’d come across the trails of some of my men, and knew they were following my directions to scatter and take their time in their journey. But here and now, we’d have privacy and safety.
Luckily, I found a sufficient campsite quickly, because my Mate was still whimpering softly in my arms. ‘Twas time to tell her the truth.
When I swung us down from the horse, I took the time to dip my head toward her, to inhale slowly. She made no move to pull away, and if I wasn’t mistaken, actually swayedtowardme. In the fading light, I could see her eyes glazed with desire.
My gaze flicked down over her bodice, which was still unlaced, and my mouth watered at the thought of those tits barely contained. I wanted to taste her.
Soon, I whispered to myKteer. Soon.
Her little pink tongue flicked across her lower lip. “Drakolt…”
Gods below, I loved the way my name sounded on her tongue. I vowed to make her scream it, soon.
“I’ll set a fire,” I told her. I would provide for her, whether she realized what I was doing or not. “Are ye hungry, lass?”
“I…” She blinked, as if trying to focus on the conversation. I could still smell her wet cunny, and ittook all my control not to mark her as mine with my mouth. “Food…”
My lips twitched. “Come, little one. I’ll make you comfortable.”
Sorcha waited until I’d cleared the little hollow of rocks, then settled against the fallen tree I indicated. This was a good camping spot, one where we could stay for several days if necessary. There was protection on three sides—a natural hillock and rockslide—and a scraggly oak tree grew in the crevice, providing shade and protection from the elements. The remains of campfires told me others had used this place in the past, but the ashes were long cold.
Her big blue eyes watched me as I mixed the barley cakes and set out the dried meat. Sorcha had eaten the bland fare uncomplainingly these last few days, but I vowed that tomorrow my Mate would have fresh meat.
I needed to keep up her strength.
We ate in silence as the sun set, but she watched me throughout, her cheeks a charming shade of pink. I didn’t have much experience with humans, but I wondered if this was her equivalent of a blush. If so, was she embarrassed by her reaction to me, or looking forward to more of my touches?
When our meal was complete, I stood to clean, and she pulled her knees up to wrap her arms aroundthem. From my saddlebag, I pulled a waterskin, filled withuisce beatha. Perhaps ‘twould help us both.
“Here, lass,” I offered, squatting down beside her. “If ye’d like it.”
Her hand shook slightly as she reached for it. “Do I need to relax?” she asked, even as she pulled the cork from the end. I hid my smile, impressed yet again by her bravery.
But all I said was, “Careful. ‘Tis stronger than yer ale.”
The way she coughed and sputtered said I was right, but she took another sip before handing it back to me. As I swigged, she exhaled and rested her shoulder blades against the downed tree, still watching me.
Shadows danced across her features, making it hard to tell what she was thinking, but she studied me as I settled across from her.
And I was content to watch her in return.
She still hadn’t laced up her bodice and her body had turned languid. I hoped ‘twas because she knew what was coming, but perhaps ‘twas theuisce beatha.
Slowly, she stretched her legs out in front of her, and I’ll confess my eyes followed the movement,imagining those knees clamped around my sides as she rode me…
Mayhap I made a sound, because she inhaled sharply, and when my gaze snapped back to hers, her lips were parted, her palm pressed against her chest as if she could contain her pounding heart.
When she spoke, I was surprised. “What is your plan for me?”
She was ready to hear it now, I thought. “Ye are mine, Sorcha.”
“Am I to be your slave then?” she demanded. “Your mistress? A female who you will use to slake your lusts?”
When her gaze dropped pointedly to the way the front of my kilt was tented, I snorted. “Nay, lass. Ye’re to be my partner.”
I watched her lips form the wordpartner, but her tongue darted out before she could say it. Instead, she swallowed and managed a hoarse sort of, “Wh-what do you mean?”
