Page 33 of Running from the Orc
My hands fumbled with the clasp of my heavy cloak, and I let it drop behind me atop the wet boots, rather than risk looking away from her. “Did I forget an important day?”
My Mate was kneeling on our bed, her arse tucked against her heels, and now lifted her arms beckoningly.
“Every day with you is a celebration.”
Somewhere, Roxanna had found a strip of brightly dyed wool, the red as bright assternkaberries against the snow, a symbol of hope in the darkest days. ‘Twas long enough to loop around her back and over her breasts, which were as pert and tempting as always, and tie in a bow in the front.
When she lifted her arms to me, her tits—and thus the bow—bobbed invitingly.
“Roxanna,” I rasped, palms already itching to claim her as I stepped closer. “What…”
“I missed you.” ‘Twas said simply, as if ‘twas enough. “I need you herewith me, to keep me warm.”
“Gladly.” Did my fingers shake as I reached for that bow? I wasn’t too proud to admit that. “I want to unwrap ye.”
She grinned and did a little wriggle as her hands came to rest on my arms. “That is the idea. I am your Yule gift.”
I froze, her words cutting through my arousal, and I looked up at her. “The steward at your father’s keep mentioned this word.Yule. What is it?”
Her grin turned impish as she slid her fingers along my now-sensitive skin. “Yule is the human midwinter celebration. ‘Tis when we give gifts and light fires and celebrate the nights getting shorter.”
I was able to move again, my fingertips resting against the upper swell of her breasts. I allowed one claw to extend slowly, pressing into her softness.
“It sounds like tomorrow’s festival.”
“Very similar.” She nodded, then squirmed teasingly again. “So I thoughttonight, you and I might have our own private celebration. I have been planning this for your return, and somehow knew tonight would be the night for you to unwrap me.”
“Palton’s Spear,” I groaned, “I want naught more. Ye are the perfect Yule gift, my love.”
With that, my claw cut through her bow, both sides slithering open to reveal her tits in all their glory.
“Roxanna.” Her name was a benediction, a plea, as I bent down to capture the round globes in my palms.
Laughing, she leaned into my touch, shivering theatrically. “You are cold, my love.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, already pulling her pebbled nipple into my mouth. “I’ll warm ye.”
Since this was saidaroundthe nipple, it came out asAww am oo,and her chuckles increased as she shoved her palms against my shoulders.
“Nay, nay, ‘tismyjob—as your Yule gift—to warmyou!”
I straightened reluctantly, but knew better than to fight when my firebrand had a plan. “What do ye mean?”
But she was already reaching for my belt. “You must be so cold, after your journey in the snow.” Ah, mayhap that explained the roaring fire in the hearth. “Allow me to warmyou, Varkaan.”
Then my kilt was on the floor and she was reaching for my now-erect cock.
Credit where ‘twas due; her mouthwasnice and hot.
“Gods below, Roxanna,” I groaned, my hands resting atop her head. Her hair was down and flowing—just the way I likedit—and we’d found over the last moons that we both liked it when I curled my fingers through it and tugged.
So I used it to hold onto her, to control the movement of her mouth. Her pretty wee mouth, too small to take all of me, the way her cunt could. But gods below, ‘twas still perfection in itself.
Her talented tongue knew how to tease me, and she even liked the way I shuddered at the sensation of her teeth scraping lightly along my ridges, if her squirm of satisfaction was any indication.
As we’d learned that first afternoon together, she was just a bit too short to suck me from her knees and still be able to reach her own wetness. But here on the bed, there was no such limitations, and when Roxanna’s fingers slid between her thighs to finger herself, we both moaned in anticipation.
Her arousal scented the warmed winter air, causing myKteerto preen.
