Page 44 of Orc's Possession
Or was that the point? To show me escape is possible if I want it enough? Does he want me to leave him and his people? That makes no sense, as it contradicts everything he’s said.
He’s trying to reach me, to make me see things his way. But so am I.
And we’re both failing.
I try for the knife again, this time my forefinger brushes the tip. I wiggle, contort, and keep applying pressure against the leather straps. They’re starting to give a little.
I’m doing it! My finger’s touching more of the blade!
I continue pulling against the restraint all while questioning what to do about Atox. We may both be failing, but he hasn’t given up on me. And I haven’t tried to escape since I got here.
Why the eff not?
The truth slams into me like a foot to the chest. Despite all our differences, I might be better off here with him and hispeople. Nothing waits for me back at my colony, and returning to Earth… I cringe at the idea of boarding theMayfloweragain knowing my attacker might still be there.
I’m not even sure what Earth is like under Coalition rule. At least here on Kovos, I might be able to see my sisters again. I’ve never asked Atox.
Fuck, Iamthinking like I plan on staying.
Good sex isn’t a reason to marry a person.
No, not a person. Anorc.
I have to stick to my original plan and avoid these reckless thoughts, but it’s near impossible when Atox’s hands and mouth touch every intimate part of me in a way that creates a need for more from the male.
Finally, I grip the knife tip with two fingers. It’s working!
I release a long-held breath when my hand wraps around the knife’s handle, upside down with the blade positioned against the leather. A sense of accomplishment washes over me as I start sawing through the thick binding.
When I think about it, Atox hasn’t done anything except push my boundaries. I should sit back and enjoy his touches.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I never would have thought I’d like to be tied down and have a guy licking me,tastingme, but this monster… this orc… this… fuck, I don’t even know what to call him at this point. All I know is he makes me feel like the sexiest, most desirable woman alive. And yet he’s never once asked for permission to touch me.
Though in all fairness, I get the sense asking isn’t the orc way, at least not for a grak.
That doesn’t excuse his actions. Or wouldn’t if he were human. But he’sorc. I shouldn’t judge him by human standards.
Sawing the leather at this awkward angle is frustratingly slow, but the tension of the leather eases as the blade cuts through bit by bit.
When I free myself, will he be proud of me?
Do I even care?
I shouldn’t care, but I do.
I look forward to leaving the tunnel, walking right up to him and … what? How do I play this? What is he expecting from me? Rage? An apology? A promise to behave?
An apology… I huff at the very idea, suppressing the urge to laugh. It’s not like he’d ever apologize to me. I’m the one who should be fuming over how he takes liberties with me. But I’m not. This is a different world with different rules. I need to understand orcs better. Starting with Atox.
Which means first getting past my own prejudices and anger. Atox sees me as his possession, nothing more. And to my surprise, that hurts more than being sold by my father.
“There, you arrogant bastard,” I swear at a non-present Atox when the leather splits, freeing my right hand.
As soon as I untie my other hand, I feel my way over the smooth rock toward the door and snag the light disc. Light fills the chamber.
I didn’t panic despite the dark. Huh.
Still pondering how that happened, I slip the torn tunic over my head then study the knife. It’s one continuous piece of metal with curvy lines near the top. Beautiful and elegant. Not what I’d expect from orcs. And that right there is my biggest problem. I don’t know much about them.
