Page 41 of Orc's Possession
I’ve had enough of her questions and insolence. I fling openmy clothing trunk and remove the extra leather that I store there for when I need to repair my weapons harness.
“A grak is not to be questioned. He is to be obeyed. On the bed. Now.”
When she doesn’t listen, I pin her down, using my body. We’re both naked.
Feeling her soft flesh beneath me makes me harder than ever. I need to sink into her, claim her, make her mine, but I am not an animal who loses himself to lust. I tie her wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed. I have not decided what to do with her, other than to teach her I am in charge. That her body and her life belong to me.
Water leaks from her eyes, but she doesn’t look away. Tears, she called them. I’ve come to understand the function as a sign of fear and sadness. These tears remind me of an enemy thrusting his weaponless palms out in a request for honor.
This female will manipulate me if I’m not careful.
I lean forward and wipe the tears away from one cheek with the pad of my thumb. She turns her head away, unwilling to acknowledge my attempt to help her.
“I did not break my promise,” I growl as I storm from the chamber.
“Atox!” she yells when I’m halfway down the tunnel.
I left her tied up and in the dark, a dark she fears. Perhaps that will be her punishment.
Except using her fear against her is a tactic reserved for the enemy and she is not my enemy. Not unless my earlier thoughts, that the humans sent her to spy on me, are true.
No, I do not believe this. She’s shown no interest in anything among my people and settlement, except the desire to leave. And her people gave her to me as if they are happy to be rid of her. They did not appreciate her spirit as I do.
Each step I take becomes harder than the last, her continued pleas pulling at me, especially as I think of how she stands up tome, taking risks no other would dare. She is meant to be mine, but I am failing at training her.
Other orcs pass me, their faces unusually… blank. They hear my female yelling out my name. Before their very eyes, I am becoming Atox the Cruel, son of Narzik the Cruel.
I race back to my chamber and tap the disc until dim light fills the room. A wet blanket of tears covers my female’s face.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ll do whatever you say. Just don’t leave me like this. Anyone could...” She swallows hard.
“None would dare touch you,” I say. Useless words, as I’ve done nothing of what a grak, warrior, or mate should do to make a female feel safe.
From the beginning, I’ve vekked this up.
When I remove a knife from my harness, intending to cut the ties, her eyes widen.
“I don’t want your obedience out of fear, Paloma.”
“Then treat me like I matter.”
She matters. Very much. But she will not believe mere words.
“Start thinking like an orc. Which includes learning to obey me.”
“Give me a reason to, Atox,” her soft voice challenges.
While I like hearing my name on her lips, I growl. “You continue using my name without permission. Everything is defiance with you, female.” I glance at the knife in my hands, wondering if she truly believes I’d use it against her. I set the knife down on the bed. “Have I harmed you?”
“No, but this is mortifying. Leaving me naked and restrained like this.”
My eyes roam her body. Naked and tied down, with her sex on display and full teats awaiting my mouth and my hands, my female is a vision. “Mortifying? You make no sense, female. Explain.”
“I’m fully exposed!” Frustration colors her voice as she slams her head back against the bed and stares up at the ceiling rather than look at me.
I wipe another tear from her face and lay my palm against her cheek. Warm. Soft. Fragile.
She releases a breath, calming as I move my hand down her delicate neck. She is not sturdy, but she is mine to protect, even when she fights me.
