Page 41 of My Orc Billionaire
In one motion, he’d uncrossed his legs, planted the wine at his side, and pulled me into his lap. Unlike the night I’d had cramps, this time I wasn’t going to lie passively as he pulled me around. I wanted this.
Yeah, it was probably the three spiked ciders.
Because I ended up not just in Abydos’s lap butstraddlinghim.
Tonight, I’d worn a cute little skirt with one of my habitual T-shirts. This one was orange and black, and that information absolutely does not matter, but whatdoesis that my boots came up almost to my knees, and my skirt was a little above them, so when I straddled Abydos’s legs, the skirt sort ofswooshedout of the way, and I realized there was nothing but air between my thighs and his.
My breath had whooshed out of me, my jacket had fallen to the floor, and my palms were pressed against his chest. Actually, one of his hands was holding one of mine there, and I could feel his heart hammering beneath my touch. Its beat matched my own pulse, and I wondered if he was as nervous as I was.
“Abydos,” I breathed, wide-eyed, our noses inches apart as I knelt over him.
His hand left mine to settle with the other one on my waist. Holding me in place? All I knew was that I had no desire to leave him.
These last few days had been torture; avoiding him in shame at what I’d done to him in the kitchen. But now…he’dbeen the one to pull me to him. Did he want this?
Did he want this as much as I wanted this?
I’d spent days hiding from him, because every time I saw him—those wide shoulders, those delicious forearms, that strong jaw—I felt liquid heat pull in my core again. God, I wanted him.
He didn’t blink, and I could see that strange flicker of green in the center of his dark gaze. “Riven, I need you to know something.” As he spoke, his hands slid to my hips, his fingers tightening.
“Anything,” I whispered.
“Orc senses are highly advanced. I can smell everything.”
Um. “Is that why you like my cooking?”
He leaned forward, his nose at my temple and his unbroken tusk sliding softly along my cheek. “It’s why I likeyou.” I shuddered but didn’t pull away. “Riven, I can smell your arousal.”
Oh God. Oh God.
I rasped, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He nuzzled my hair, his fingertips massaging the top of my ass. “It’s been driving me mad since I felt you come.”
I was shaking. Literally shaking, and I wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or anticipation or what. “I…Abydos, I…please.”
Surely he didn’t know what I was begging for any more than I did, but I felt his chuckle against my hair.
“My delicious little human, do you have any idea what I’ve been dreaming about since I kissed you?”
Before I could answer, he pulled my hips forward until I was flush against him, andoh Godhis erection was magnificent. He no longer wore the jacket and tie I’d seen him in downtown, but his cock strained against his trousers, making my mouth water.
I whimpered and rocked my hips forward as he groaned in response.
When our lips met, it was mutual, beautiful, each of us reaching for the other. I mean, granted, we didn’t have far to go, but we groaned into each other’s mouths as we met. His tongue was just as stimulating as I remembered, just as perfect, and I tried to match his teasing. When I caught his lower lip between my teeth and pulled it into my mouth, he bucked beneath me, and I smiled.
His fingers slid under the hem of my T-shirt, and I stiffened for a moment, but they didn’t go any farther up. He held my waist, his fingertips against my skin, and I melted into him once more. My core was already flooded with desire—I knew my panties were soaked as I rocked against him.
His lips brushed mine again, and when he pulled back I saw a flicker of subtle humor in his dark eyes.
“Tell me, little human,” he rumbled, his tusk grazing my cheek, “trick…or treat?”
I made a show of pretending to think, dragging my lower lip between my teeth as if I could weigh the options. My pulse was already hammering, heat pooling between my thighs. “Mmm,” I whispered, my grin tilting sly. “Treat.”
His answering growl was sinful. “Then I’ll give you something none of your other lovers could.” He lowered his mouth to my throat, his tusk tracing a line down my collarbone as his tongue followed—heat and danger and promise all at once. The scrape of ivory—or were tusks made of bone?—against sensitive skin had me shuddering, and then his tongue found the hollow of my throat. “That’s your treat.”
Had he marked me? My skin felt as if he had, branded me somehow with his touch. I gasped, and his answering growl vibrated through me as his wide tongue swept across my skin—ridged, teasing, deliberate—until I was whimpering, rocking against him.
