Page 16 of Bred By the Orc
I leaned forward, holding her gaze across the flickering flames. “Mine, Sorcha. And I will be yers. Ye willbear my son.”
“What?”
Och, mayhap I should not have told her everything so quickly, judging from the way her palms dropped to the dirt and she sprung upright.
I tried to calm my tone. “I have paid gold for ye, lass. We are betrothed.”
She was shaking her head, those beautiful red curls bounding around her shoulder. “You did not pay my father for me!”
“If I went to yer father as a suiter, Sorcha, holding a bag of coins, would I be greeted as a potential husband?” I couldn’t help the bitterness that snuck into my tone. “Or with spears and arrows.”
Her expression told me the truth.
I shrugged. “I couldnae woo ye the honorable way, so this was the next best thing.”
Her eyes widened. I think ‘twas the mention ofwooing, and my lips twitched.
“Why me?” she whispered. “You took my sister and cousin because they were convenient, aye? But you were there forme.”
I nodded immediately. “It has been foretold. Ye will be my partner, bear my son, and make peace.”
Her curls bobbed again as she shook her head. “I do not understand. What are you going to do with me?”
Ah.
I curled my hands around my knees to keep from reaching for my cock as I leaned forward to hold her gaze.
“I’m going to breed ye.”
Chapter 7
Sorcha
My breath caught in my throat.
“Breed me?” I whispered, certain I should be horrified, and not willing to admit the way my stomach clenched was actually anticipation.
Such a thing should not arouse me, should it?
Across the fire, Drakolt slowly nodded. The shadows played across his features, hiding some of his expression, but highlighting the strong line of his jaw and those intriguing tusks. Not for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Would those tusks get in the way, or make life more interesting?
Would he kiss me as he took me?
“Yer breeding is a blessed event, Sorcha. It has been foretold by my clan’s holy woman. She chose ye specifically for this, because she kenned ye would no’ only be able to take my seed, but craft a son in yer womb. A son who’ll unite our clans.”
Craft a son.
My eyes had widened. I do not think I had ever heard pregnancy described in such reverent terms…as if what I could do was special, revered. As if I was more than just a vessel for his son.
Our son.
I swallowed.
Only last week, I had been told I was on my way to marry Laird MacDonald. He had bought and paid for me as a bride to give him sons. Was that not my role in life? To be bred?
But this orc…this tall, intriguing, almost-handsome orc…he was being open and honest about it.
And the thought of Laird MacDonald’s marriage bed, or his touch, didn’t make me this breathless.
