Page 71 of His Orc Lady
“Remind me to write thank-you notes to everyone tomorrow,” I pant as I follow Owen uphill from the meadow, right to the front gate.
He arches one blond eyebrow. “Tomorrow?”
I click my tongue. “Perhaps the day after. Sometime this week, in any case. I’m sure we’ll…find some time, won’t we?”
“That depends entirely on you, wife, and how long you intend to keep your husband for yourself.” Owen tugs me closer to his side and kisses my knuckles, then tucks my hand in the crook of his elbow. “For my part, I’ll be happy to remain in our rooms for the foreseeable future.”
We reach the front gate, which is guarded by two young soldiers. They greet us with slightly morose expressions—no doubt the result of drawing the short straw and not being able to participate in the party—but someone had been by to bring them food from the feast. They cross us out of the list in the ledger when they recognize us, though, and I realize that they, too, are doing their part for our party.
“You’ll make sure everyone is safely inside, won’t you?” I ask nevertheless. “I wouldn’t want anyone falling asleep under a bush somewhere and waking up?—”
“We’ll take care of it, Mara,” Lorm promises me. “We’ve got everyone’s names right here.”
“Aye, you two should get out of sight before the rest of the clan figure out you’re gone,” Darrin adds. “I heard the king practicing a post-dinner speech yesterday, and as far as I could hear from here, he hasn’t started it yet.”
“Oh dear.” I bite my lip, looking up at Owen. “You don’t think we should wait for that, do you?”
Owen’s blue eyes glint warmly in the torchlight. “What do you want to do?”
I hesitate for a moment, then grab his hand and drag him deeper into the Hill. “He’ll understand.”
Darrin’s and Lorm’s laughter echoes behind us as we turn into the corridor leading toward our rooms.
The closer we get, the faster we walk, and by the time we enter the last hallway, we’re laughing, racing for the door. Owen takes the iron key from his pocket and unlocks the door, and I rush over the threshold into the darkened room to light a lantern. I don’t need it, but like Owen said once, months ago—I need to see him, and I want him to be able to see me.
A click behind my back tells me Owen has locked the door, and my anticipation grows higher, accentuated by my husband’s slow footsteps. I put the flint down and close the little glass shell of the lantern, then straighten and face him.
He’s so handsome, I stop and simply look at him. He seems to know what I’m thinking because he crosses his strong arms over his chest and smirks at me, though his cheeks are turning pink. When I walk toward him, he steps forward, too, intercepting me, and wraps me in his arms.
His first kiss is gentle, as if we’re both acknowledging that we don’t have to rush anymore now that we’re here, in the privacy of our home.
“Was it like you wanted it to be?” he murmurs, his nose touching mine. “The wedding?”
“Aye.” I lift my chin and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I enjoyed every moment. Did you?”
“Mm.” He brings his lips to my ear and licks the tip of it, sending a shiver through me. “You know I did. You would have scented it otherwise.”
A grin stretches my lips. “You seem to understand a lot about orcs, sir. How did you get to know so much?”
Owen slips his hands down my back to cup my ass. “Well, I was highly motivated, you see. I wanted to seduce a beautiful orc woman, so I had to learn everything I could to prove myself to her.”
I palm the back of his neck and tug him down to me. “You never had to prove anything. I already knew you were the one for me.”
He kisses me then, obeying my demand, and we shuffle together toward our bed. We’ve had a larger one made since Owen moved in with me, but the silky, embroidered blankets remain the same. Their softness envelops me when Owen lays me down on the bed and removes first one slipper, then the other, then pushes the skirts of my dress past my knees.
“Owen,” I gasp as he spreads my thighs, kneels in front of me, and puts his lips to my pearl.
We’ve done this so many times in the past months—and learned so much about each other’s bodies and pleasure—but it feels like it’s completely new every single time. When he dips his tongue into my pussy, I arch my back off the bed, and when he pushes two fingers inside me, I cry out, my need burning brighter.
“No, stop,” I pant when the first shimmers of my climax dance through me. “Not like this—not tonight.”
Owen lifts his head, surprise clear on his face. “I’ll make you come again, don’t worry?—”
But I’m already scrambling to my knees, reaching for the tiny bows at my wrists to undo my dress. “I want you inside me. Don’t you want that, too?”
He stares at me for a beat, his eyes wild, his hair disheveled from my fingers, then curses softly under his breath. “Fuck, what am I even thinking? Of course I want that.”
He’s on his feet a moment later, fingers flying on the buttons of his jacket. He shucks it down his arms and lets it fall to the floor. I’m already reaching for him, tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants, and shove the fabric up his chest and over his head. He laughs when the collar snags on his chin, and by the time we manage to pull the shift off, his hair is a mess, the neat braids at his temples unraveling.And yet, he’s never been more handsome.