Page 62 of The Orc's Thief
“I promised I’d be honest. And I’ve gotten a lot better since then. It’s been over a decade. I’ve had practice.”
A flash of white-hot jealousy streaks through me at the thought of himpracticingon other women. Then I think of my own lovers, the ones I took after leaving Redport. Weren’t those nights practice too? I learned things with them Hugo never taught me. I know how to find my own pleasure now.
I grip Arlon’s shoulders more tightly as he spins me into another turn. His scent floods my senses, fresh and heady. I leanin, unable to help myself. He sucks in a sharp breath, and on the next turn, our bodies touch, my chest brushing against his.
And all of a sudden, I feel him. He’s hard, his cock straining behind the fly of his riding pants. My breath catches in my throat, but I don’t step away. I don’t push his hands off or demand that he release me. Instead, I tilt my head back to meet his gaze, my mind replaying what he just told me.
“You’ve never been in love?” I ask softly.
He shakes his head.
“No. I hadn’t met you yet.”
I let my right hand slide down his chest to rest over his heart. It thuds against my palm, and the sensation wakes something inside me, an awareness I can’t deny. Arlon lowers his head until his cheek brushes my temple and draws in a long breath, scenting me.
“You smell so fucking good, Tessa.”
His words are a rough confession, sending shivers through me. The contact of his skin with mine feels incredible, and we haven’t even kissed yet. If such a simple touch is powerful enough to make my nipples pebble under my stays, I almost dread the idea of him touching me elsewhere. The sensations I feel in his presence are more intense than anything I’ve experienced, yet I want more.
“We should finish our drinks,” I murmur.
“We should go upstairs so I can show you everything I’ve learned,” he rumbles, but his gaze is warm, his lips upturned, telling me he’s joking, at least mostly.
I have no doubt that Arlon would show me everything if I asked him to.
And it’s getting harder to find reasons to keep denying him. I’ve been propositioned before, even by attractive men, but Arlon is different. He’s offering himself, not demanding.
I bite my lip and lean my cheek on his chest.
“It’s a bad idea.”
He leans down, curling his big body around mine.
“Why? Because you’re a thief? Are we back to that again?”
“Because you want different things in life than I do.” I don’t meet his gaze as I add in a whisper, “And you’re the most honest man I’ve ever met.”
Arlon’s arms tighten around me. “I wantyou. Everything else can wait.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
ARLON
It takes all the control and restraint I have in me to release Tessa as the song winds to a close. The musicians return to the bar to drink the beers that Mistress Maeve has set out for them. Tessa ducks her head and walks to our table, and I follow because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I may have pushed her too far just now, with the offer that flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. It was an impulsive idea, but she smelled so delectable and was holding on to me, her fingertips digging into my shoulders. Every time I spun her around, her breath brushed my neck, and something loosened inside me. So I blurted out the thought that had been rolling around in my mind ever since I first realized who she was to me.
And now she’s running, weaving between dancers to reach our table and—what? Drink more to forget that she now has an orc mate following her everywhere?
But when I reach the table, she’s standing beside it rather than sliding onto the bench. Her jacket is clutched in her hands, her eyes glimmering.
“I’m ready to head upstairs,” she says, her cheeks pink from dancing. “Just to sleep, of course.”
“Aye, understood,” I say quickly. “You don’t want another drink?”
She reaches out and takes my hand, sending a glance at the innkeeper behind the bar. “No, thank you. We have a long way to ride tomorrow.”
