Page 14 of Orc's Claim
“I saw your grak hold you back. And then you disappeared completely. Are you here to say goodbye?”
“I will not give you up, female. Even on my grak’s orders.”
My heart thumps, knowing he’d defy his king for me. Not that I want him to get in trouble.
“I wanted to meet you the other day but Owen, that’s the guy in charge of our security in Pen’Kesh, he kept me from returning.”
“The tall male with sun-colored hair who yells at the human females?”
“That’s him.”
My orc motions to the knife, that I now realize is his king’s. I wonder if I should return it, but he doesn’t ask for it back, so I decide to keep it. Owen will realize we’re down a pair of boots and demand we hand over whatever we accepted in trade.
“That male would piss himself the moment you point that knife at him.”
He’s probably right. I suddenly want to try standing up to Owen with a knife. Any knife. I’m tired of being powerless just because the males in New Earth beat us down emotionally.
A green finger lightly drags over my lips and down my throat, drawing a purr from me.
“You make beautiful sounds. Like a song bird,” he adds as that finger follows my collar bone to my arm, traveling up and down repeatedly.
Maybe they don’t have cats on Orcos, but he sure has an incredibly gentle touch, one which spurs my heart to pump faster.
Keep touching me…
“Beautiful and soft,” he whispers as his hand traces the outline of a breast.
I inhale slowly, watching the fascination and gentleness in his expression.
“Your name, please,” I beg.
“So very different and yet quite appealing,” he mutters as his fingers glide over my nose, then my forehead and hair, each touch slow and done with pure awe, as if he’s touching a fabled treasure.
My skin heats at those innocent touches. “Keep touching me,” I whisper as his thumb follows the line of my throat. I tilt my head back, making myself vulnerable to him.
A low growl fills the air as that hand slides down to my breast. His thumb circles a very hard nipple, sending a gush of need between my legs.
This isn’t happening, I try to convince myself. And yet I don’t move. Don’t want to move.
The air sizzles between us, the desire pouring off him palpable as my hand lands on his chest. The chiseled muscles, the warmth… I cannot pull away.
A finger slips beneath my collar and skims the top of a breast. Flesh on flesh. Warm, enticing. Forbidden.
“I can’t stay long,” I push out the words instead of the breathy moan building in me.
His hand withdraws, but not his gaze, which remains locked on me.
“My people will be packing up soon, and I need to know your name before I leave,” I add, my hands falling to my side.
“Ryko.”
“Ryko,” I repeat, his name rolling off my tongue. His face fills with pride when I say his name. “It’s a nice name.”
“My name is yours, female. All of me is. And you are mine.”
Ryko doesn’t play games. But that’s moving a bit too fast for me.
“Not yet, I’m not.”
