Page 33 of His Orc Lady
His cheeks flush pink, so I touch them, too, amazed at the way his skin changes color this quickly.
He catches my hand and turns my palm over, then rubs his fingers over mine. “Your fingers are always stained with ink.”
“And yours are callused.” I switch our roles and explore the rougher spots on his palm. “From wielding weapons?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Does it bother you? That I’m a soldier?”
I glance up quickly. “No, why would it?”
He shakes his head. “Just something you said, about not being a warrior.”
Before I can reply, he kisses me again, and I sigh into his mouth, giving in to the sensations he’s drawing from me. He moves from my mouth to my neck, then lower, to the neckline of my dress. He looks up at me, and at my nod, he tugs on the laces at the front of my dress. The little bow I’d tied there unravels slowly, and Owen stares down at it, his lips parted, his breaths coming faster. My nipples tighten under the fabric, my tits suddenly feeling heavy—just from seeing how much he wants this.
Owen’s scent is swirling around me, potent and delectable, so I raise myself on my hands and kiss his neck, where it’s most concentrated. Then, unable to resist, I lick the spot slowly, savoring his taste.
His groan breaks the silence between us, and he shudders under my touch.
“Fuck, that feels good.” He palms the back of my neck to hold me in place. “You feel so good, Mara.”
His words spur us on, and suddenly, it’s a race to get rid of all the clothes—I shove Owen’s jacket off his shoulders, and he dumps it on the floor, then takes the back of his collar and pulls his tunic over his head. I put my hands on his naked skin immediately, marveling at the contrast between the smooth muscles and the thick, springy hair on his chest.
“I wanted to touch you that day,” I breathe, glancing up into his blue eyes. “In the baths. You looked so…”
I shake my head, unable to find the right expression.
His grin turns wry. “I’m sorry I stared at you like a fool that day. I thought I was saving a stranger from drowning and got a glimpse at the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
Heat floods my cheeks, sudden, and for once, not unwelcome. “I couldn’t remain angry for long. You were only trying to help.”
He has me lift my ass and tugs my dress up, then carefully lifts it over my head. “Whatwereyou doing underwater for so long?”
I bite my lip, hesitating, then tell him the truth. “I was trying to drown out thoughts of you.”
Owen frowns, and I know he might try to protest, so I put my palm over his mouth to stop him.
“I never said I succeeded,” I whisper.
His next exhale is ragged, his gaze burning into mine. “Mara.”
I take the hem of my undershirt and wiggle to get it over my hips, then take it off, too. All that remains is my underwear and stockings, so I lie back, untie the linen string at my waist, and push the underwear out of the way. When I raise one leg to undo my garter, Owen puts his hand over mine.
“Let me,” he rasps.
Our gazes remain locked for a moment longer, but he breaks faster than me. He follows the lines of my body, first to my tits, then down my belly to the thatch of short, curly black hair covering my pussy. I wonder what he thinks of me—because I know human women are different—but his groan tells me he’s just as affected as I am.
He stares at me, at my strong thighs, my soft belly, and heavy tits, and I allow myself to study him, too. I saw him that day in the baths, but now I get to touch, so I reach up to run my hand over his arm to the rounded shape of his shoulder and down to a pink, raised scar.
Owen shivers as I run my fingertips over his old injury.
But the touch seems to spur him on. He glances down to my thighs, and a determined expression crosses his handsome face. His fingers make quick work of my garters, and then he rolls down my stockings, first one, then the other, and suddenly, I’m naked under him, legs bent and feet planted on the bed.
Owen stares down at me, and I think he might be hesitating, but he shakes his head and drags his palm over his face.
“I don’t know where to begin,” he confesses. “I’ve thought of this so often since that day I first saw you, I can’t decide what I want to do first.”
He climbs over me, settling in the cradle of my thighs. I notice vaguely that he’s still wearing his pants, but before I can complain, he kisses me again, then tugs on my lower lip with his teeth.
“Do I kiss you here and see if I can make you shiver again?” he murmurs against my ear, his lips hovering just above my skin. Then he cups my right breast with his callused hand, rubbing his thumb over my nipple. “Or do I suck on your pretty tits to see if you’re sensitive here?”