Page 44 of Claimed By Stone
The only thing I was certain of was that I would protect her with my life. And that was enough for now.
Chapter 20
Thavros
The last few days had passed in a kind of quiet bliss I didn’t entirely trust.
We’d established a rhythm—researching dusty old tomes by day, falling into each other by night. Her laughter echoed in the stone halls now, her scent lingered on my skin, and every time I looked at her, I felt less like a warrior and more like a man dangerously close to being undone.
And still… she always woke with a start. Nightmares clawed at the edge of her peace. I could feel her unease, even when she tried to hide it with teasing and quick kisses.
This morning, she smiled at me across the study table, one leg tucked beneath her as she flipped through the same book for the third time. I didn’t think she was reading anymore. She was humming softly, head tilted, brown curls brushing her shoulder.
Gods, she was beautiful.
“You’re staring again,” she said without looking up.
“I’m allowed,” I said. “You’re mine.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was color in her cheeks. “Possessive much?”
“I’m an orc. We come with very few settings.”
She laughed, and I let it wash over me.
She leaned back in the chair, stretching her arms over her head in a way that made the soft fabric of her gown cling to her supple curves.
“I don’t think this book has any answers,” she said, thumbing the corner of a page. “Unless the answer is hidden behind overly poetic footnotes and unhelpful riddles.”
I took off my glasses and drank her in. “Maybe we should try… a different kind of study,” I said, my voice dropping.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are we shifting to hands-on learning?”
I pushed away from the table and circled to her side. “I’ve always been a practical learner.”
She squeaked as I lifted her easily from the chair and set her on the edge of the desk. Her eyes went wide as I stepped between her knees.
“I like this study method,” she murmured, just before I kissed her slowly and deeply.
My hands slid up her thighs, gathering the soft skirt of her new dress, and I could already feel the heat of her body against my palms.
Her lips were warm against mine, and her fingers threaded into my hair, tugging me closer like she couldn’t get enough. I groaned low in my chest, palms skating up her thighs and slipping beneath the hem of her dress. She was already slick and hot against my fingers.
“Gods,” I muttered, my voice thick. “You’re already?—”
She bit her lip, eyes glazed and soft. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”
I buried my face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in. “You’re going to kill me, little flame.”
She giggled, the sound catching when I slid a finger along her wet seam.
Her hands moved to my chest, small and trembling, pressing against me like she wanted to memorize the shape of me. Then lower. Her fingers danced across my stomach, hesitant at first, then bolder.
When she touched me through my trousers, I growled her name into her skin.
Next thing I knew, she was yanking my tunic up and out of my pants.
"I want to see you," she said as she pulled back and bit her bottom lip.
