Page 52 of Pumpkin Spice & Orc Cinnamon Roll
“Magic accident?” Tara whispers loudly. “WORTH IT.”
Pollivander grins and raises his goblet. “By lantern, leaf, and the general chaos of love—kiss her, ya leafy oaf!”
So I do.
I kiss her like the world’s ending and we’ve got one more minute to make it count. Like her lips are the home I’ve been dragging myself toward since the day I was born. Like every time I left, every time I broke, every time I got in my own way, led me here—tothiskiss. To her.
We pull apart to wild applause and Tara’s very loud shriek as she catches the bouquet with both hands and then immediately yells, “I regret everything!” before tripping over a goat and landing in Bramley’s lap.
He groans. “This is how curses start.”
Tessa’s laughing. I’m laughing. Everyone’s laughing.
And the forest laughs with us, the leaves whispering blessings through the breeze, the fireflies dancing like stars come down to earth, and somewhere deep in the roots beneath us, I swear the trees lean in just a little closer.
I take my wife’s hand.
Mywife.
And together, we walk forward into forever.
CHAPTER 27
TESSA
The cheers fade behind us as Drogath pulls me deeper into the woods, the path lit by pulsing orbs of amber fire-magic he summons with a flick of his wrist. "Quiet now, wife," he murmurs, thumb stroking my knuckles where his lips pressed vows into my skin. "Just us."
Moonlight filters through the canopy, dappling the forest floor where thick moss carpets every surface. He’s already laid wool blankets beneath the oldest oak—thick, soft, smelling faintly of cedar. No hurry. We have all night. He kneels before me, hands spanning my waist, and undoes each braided button of my russet gown with agonizing slowness. Cool air kisses my shoulders, my stomach, my thighs as the fabric pools at my feet. His molten gaze drinks me in, reverence thickening his voice to gravel. "Every freckle. Every scar. Mine to know now."
He lays me back, moss yielding like a sigh beneath us. Firelight traces the dark striations across his shoulders as he strips off his own clothes, kneels between my legs. His big hands—so often rough with callouses—smooth up my inner thighs, parting me. Heat coils low in my belly. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to. His mouth finds me, hot and wet and unbearably gentle. A low groan vibrates through him as he tastes me, tonguecircling my clit with slow, deliberate strokes before delving deeper, worship written in every movement. My hands fist in his short-cropped hair as pleasure builds, not a storm, but a rising tide—inevitable, vast. "Drogath," his name cracks from me, half sob.
"Shh. Just feel." His murmur is muffled against me. Teeth scrape soft skin, then soothe with tongue, sending electric spirals arcing through my hips. Release crests, trembling— I shudder against his mouth, crying out as he licks me through it, drawing every tremor onto his tongue. Before I’ve caught my breath, he’s moving up my body, his cock hot and heavy against my hip, the thick head already glistening. "Inside," he rasps. "Need to be inside where you’re warm."
He guides himself, pressing into my pussy with infinite care. God. He's big, stretching me slow and full. He sinks deep until our hips meet, staying utterly still, forehead pressed to mine. His breath hitches. Mine escapes entirely, stolen by the searing intimacy of his cock seated fully within me, an anchor. "Tess," he grits out. "You fit me like home."
Then he moves, just the slightest shift of his pelvis rolling against mine. It’s not thrusting. It’s a rhythm deeper than bone—slow retreat, then filling me again, each drag deeper than the last. His eyes lock on mine as he builds the pace—still unhurried, deliberate. Every slide of him inside sparks liquid fire in my veins. His hands grip my hips— not possessive, fervent. Whispered praise drifts against my ear. "So wet... gods... clenching me... perfect."
He shifts, tilting my hips to drive deeper. Sensation unfurls like floodwater—every nerve alight where we meet. My back arches, seeking more friction. His pace quickens slightly, just enough to make my moans thicken. Sweat gleams on his chest. He captures my mouth in a kiss that tastes like salt and devotionwhile his cock moves relentlessly inside me, pushing me toward the edge, shattering me silently.
"Not done with you," he whispers in my ear. I bite my lip, ready for everything he has to offer me.
He fills me with that aching stretch until I’m taut around him, breathless. Mine. Every drag of his cock coaxes a ragged moan from my throat, friction sparking deep where I’m most sensitive. Sweat slicks between us as his hips begin a steady, deliberate rhythm. Not hurried. Claiming. His hand fists in the curls at my nape, tilting my head back. The kiss he brands on my throat tastes like ownership—and something softer, warmer. "Never letting go," he growls against my skin, the words vibrating through me.
His thrusts gain force, each one driving the breath from my lungs. My heels dig into the small of his back, urging him impossibly deeper into the slick clutch of my pussy. The thick weight of him strikes against something inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. I gasp, my nails scoring down the ridges of his spine.
"There—!"
He shifts, lifting my hips. Deeper still. He connects with that spot again on every inward surge until the air crackles with my whimpers. His gaze anchors me, molten gold burning into my soul. "Wife." The word is a rumble, thick with awe. His free hand slides between us, calloused thumb circling my clit with rough, perfect pressure. Pleasure tightens into a wire-thin scream at the base of my spine.
Faster. Harder. He pounds into me, driving me toward the edge until the coil snaps. I shatter against him, claws raking his shoulders as my pussy convulses, milking his cock. He snarls, teeth scraping my collarbone.
"Hold me?—"
His rhythm turns frantic, brutal. Sheathing himself to the hilt with one final thrust, his spine locks. Heat floods me, thick and shuddering, as his roar tears through the stillness of the woods. He collapses over me, his breath scalding my ear. Panting. Heavy. Claimed.
His weight settles heavy and warm over me, skin slick where our bodies press. The forest air cools the sweat between my shoulder blades. I breathe him in – leather, woodsmoke, the earthy tang of us tangled together.
He shifts, rolling to his side beside me in the thick moss, gathering me against the furnace of his chest. One massive arm curls under my neck, the other possessively banding across my hips, pinning me to him. My cheek fits perfectly against the solid warmth of his pectoral muscle, right beside the slow, grounding rhythm of his heartbeat.Thump-thump. Thump-thump.Slowing from its earlier frantic pace. Mine matches it.
