Page 38 of Pumpkin Spice & Orc Cinnamon Roll
“Didn’t do it for applause.” My voice cracks.
She flinches at the blood smearing the fence. “Why does italwayshave to be grand gestures with you? Why not justtalk?—”
“Because I’m no good at it!” The words tear loose, raw. “Because every time I open my damned mouth, I ruin things. SoI fix what I can. Even if it’s just carrying kids out of fires. Even if it’s you hating me for it.”
Her hands flutter—angry, trembling birds—before she shoves me hard. “You don’t get to play martyr. Not after?—”
I catch her wrists. She freezes.
“You think I wanted this?” Blood dots her sleeves. “You think I enjoysweating through board meetingstrying to outbid my own damn investors?”
She stills. “What?”
“The land purchases. They’re mine on paper. Not theirs. I’m funneling every copper into keeping the deeds out of speculators’ hands.” I release her, breath ragged. “Not that it mattered. Still burned. Still couldn’t... I didn’t save you.”
Her fingers brush my jaw. Lavender and smoke.
“You’re an idiot,” she whispers again, softer.
“Not arguing.”
Then she’s against me, all fury and fractured hope, her mouth desperate on mine. Salt and rosemary. Blood and wildfire. Her nails dig into my shoulders like she’s trying to carve the truth straight into bone.
I let her.
Her fingers knot in my burnt collar, tugging me down to meet her mouth again. Charred fabric rips. I taste copper where my lip splits against her teeth, and the groan rumbling through my chest isn't pain. It’s relief—violent, desperate relief. She wrenches my soot-streaked coat off my shoulders, nails scraping over my pectorals beneath my tunic.
"Stubborn, burning man," she gasps against my jawline, working the buttons at my waistband. "Always charging into wreckage."
"And you’d let me?" I manage, though her palm sliding over my cock through the ruined trousers steals my breath.
Her laughter is raw silk. "I’d follow you into it."
My burnt hands tremble. Can’t grip her properly. I sweep an arm around her waist instead, lifting her. Her legs lock around my hips, russet skirts hiking. The split-rail fence groans behind me as I brace her against it.
"You’re. Not. Ready." Each word scrapes out of me. Need’s a living thing clawing up my spine.
Her pupils devour the amber in her eyes. "You burnt down my patience three hours ago." She sinks down, impaling herself slowly on my cock, taking me inch by scalding inch. "Thorns and mercy, Drogath—" Her gasp fractures as she sheaths me fully, her inner muscles fluttering around my shaft like a heartbeat.
Movement erupts from both of us. No finesse—just raw collision. Her hips arch forward to meet each thrust. I drive up, the friction tearing sounds from her lips she buries against my throat. Sweat mingles with soot on her collarbone.
"Tighter," I rasp. She clenches instinctively, hot velvet walls closing around me. "You’re… hellfire wrapped in velvet."
Her teeth catch my earlobe. Grazing, biting. "All yours." Her whisper shakes with the force of my next stroke. "All this, all mine?"
"Yes." It’s not a word. It’s a vow ripped from a place deeper than lungs. My thumb finds her clit despite the bloody blisters. Calloused pad rubbing tight circles. "Always."
The wood splinters dig into my back with each thrust, her pussy clenching a rhythm against my cock that steals breath. Lavender and woodsmoke cling to her hair. "Mine," I grit out, dragging my hands down the sweat-slick curve of her spine. Fuck the charred knuckles, fuck the blisters. I need to feel every goddamned inch of her.
"And if I said forever?" Her voice is wrecked glass, sharp and shimmering. Her thighs tremble around my hips.
"Already yours." My mouth finds the pulse hammering wild in her throat. I lift her higher, driving deeper, the angle drawinga choked cry. Her pussy pulses again and again around my cock. Sweet impossible pressure.
Her palms press flat against the muscles of my back, nails like soft thorns. "So deep. Feels like?—"
"Home." The word punches out, raw. "You in my arms. Always like coming home." My thumb traces the seam of her ass, her shudder an electric current against my skin.
She surges back against me, matching every brutal thrust. "Need you all the way," she pants. "Every scar. Every burned damn secret."
