Page 20 of The Passionate Orc
"I won't break," she murmured against my mouth, her breath hot on my skin.
The scent of her filled my head with paint and flowers, a heady perfume that made my senses reel. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, my pulse pounding in my ears. "You don't know what you do to me," I growled, my voice rough with barely restrained desire.
Her laugh was breathy, sending shivers down my spine. "Show me."
So I did. With every touch, every kiss, I tried to tell her what words couldn't. How her art had shown me a part of myself I'd hidden away, a piece of my soul I never knew existed. How her smile made my warrior's heart stumble and soar all at once. How I'd never thought someone like her, so bright and beautiful, could want someone like me, a rough-hewn orc with blood on his hands.
We moved together slowly, my calloused hands mapping every inch of her silken skin like I was memorizing a masterpiece. Each gasp, each sigh from her lips was a symphony to my ears. And when we joined, when she cried out my name against my shoulder, her nails raking down my back, I knew I was lost forever. A growl of pure ecstasy tore from my throat as I drowned in the feel of her, in the scent of our passion.
"Look at me," I whispered, my voice raw with emotion.
And she did, her blue eyes never leaving mine as we moved together, our bodies entwined in a dance as old as time. Something passed between us then, something that went beyond the physical, beyond the heat of the moment. It was a connection, a bond forged in the crucible of our desire. I'd fought in battles, stood against enemies twice my size, but nothing had ever made me feel as vulnerable, or as powerful, as Emryn's gaze in that moment. In her eyes, I saw everything I'd ever wanted, everything I never dared to dream of. And I knew, with a certainty that shook me to my core, that I would movemountains, slay dragons, do anything to keep her safe, to make her mine.
After, we lay tangled in her sheets, her little body curled against my chest. I traced patterns on her bare shoulder, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.
"What are you thinking?" she asked, her fingers playing with the pendant I always wore, a small red stone, the symbol of my clan.
I smiled in the darkness. "That I never want to leave this bed."
She laughed, the sound vibrating against my chest. "Well, you're welcome to stay the night."
My arm tightened around her. "Just the night?"
"We'll see about tomorrow." But I could hear the smile in her voice as she drifted off to sleep.
I lay awake longer, listening to her breathe, feeling the unfamiliar peace that had settled over me. In my clan, to show such tenderness was weakness. But here, with Emryn's warm weight against me, I couldn't remember why I'd ever believed that.
The smell woke me.Not the good kind of smell smell.
I opened my eyes to an empty bed and the distinct scent of something burning. For a second, I panicked – enemies? Fire? – before I heard Emryn's voice from the kitchen, a string of colorful curses that would have impressed even the most seasoned warriors of my clan.
Grabbing my pants from the floor, I pulled them on and padded barefoot toward the commotion. The sight that greeted me nearly made me laugh out loud.
Emryn stood in her tiny kitchen, wearing nothing but my shirt from last night (which hung to her knees) and a look ofutter frustration. A pan on the stove smoked ominously, and what might have once been pancakes now resembled charred battle shields.
"Morning," I said, leaning against the doorframe.
She whirled around, a wooden spoon in hand like a weapon. "I was going to surprise you with breakfast."
"I am surprised." I couldn't help the grin spreading across my face. "Surprised the building isn't on fire."
She narrowed her eyes, but I could see her lips twitching. "Very funny. I'll have you know I'm an excellent artist."
"And a terrible cook?"
"The worst," she admitted with a laugh. "But I was trying to?—"
Whatever she was about to say cut off by a piercing sound that had me covering my sensitive ears. The smoke alarm. Of course.
"Ancestors preserve me," I muttered, crossing the kitchen in two strides to snatch the smoking pan off the stove. Emryn was already climbing onto a chair, trying to reach the wailing device on the ceiling.
The large tee shirt rode up as she stretched, revealing the curve of her thighs. My mouth went dry at the sight, and I nearly dropped the pan.
"A little help here?" she called over the noise.
I set the pan in the sink and moved to her side, easily reaching up to silence the alarm. When I turned back, Emryn was looking at the blackened remains of breakfast with a dejected expression.
"So much for my romantic morning-after surprise," she sighed.
