Page 89 of Bound to the Orc Hunter

“Okay.”

“That was easy.” He grins down at me. “I thought you didn’t like surprises.”

I shrug. “I trust you, and all of your surprises have been good.” And it’s true. Even if he never loves me like I love him, I know Branikk will never hurt me.

He stops us outside a rectangular building built in a more familiar style, with wood siding and a slate roof. He opens the door with a flourish, and warm humid air caresses my face as I step inside a long room dominated by a stone-lined pool, wisps of steam rising from the surface.

“What is this?”

“The communal baths. They’re fed by a hot spring. I’ve wanted to share them with you for some time.”

“Communal?” I gulp. I might have felt more welcome in Moon Blade Village than anywhere I’ve ever been, but I’m not sure I’m up for public nudity yet.

Instead of answering, he ushers me along to another door at the far end of the room. It holds a much smaller round pool set into the floor, and when he shuts the door, we’re all alone.

“Better?”

I nod.

“Good.” He pulls me to him, his voice dropping to a growl. “Because I can’t bear the thought of anyone else seeing you naked.”

I strain upward, hoping he’ll kiss me, but instead, he slides his hands under the tunic top, lifting it slowly over my head. He places it on the wooden bench lining one wall.

Even my bra is new, and I’m surprised to find the linen comfortable, even though I doubt there’s any elastic in Alarria.

When I say as much, he explains, “Magic! The other witches have been working with the village weaver to make special under things. Reta imbued this with her magic, which helps make things more comfortable.”

He keeps working as he talks, crouching to remove my boots. Then his hands untie the simple drawstring of the linen pants, and they drop to my ankles. He grins up at me. “Perhaps I will cancel my order to have leather pants made for you. These are rather handy.”

“I want some real pants.” I swat his shoulder playfully.

When he looks ready to tear the new panties I have on, I say, “Don’t you dare. They’re pretty.” The light pink is my favorite color.

He smirks, curling his tongue around his tusks in that seductive way he has, but he does as I ask, slipping my underwear from me with care.

Once I’m sitting on the bench, he wets a cleaning cloth in a bucket and runs it over me, moving with slow deliberateness, each stroke a caress.

“I thought we were taking a bath.”

“The hot springs are for soaking. We go into them clean to keep the water nice.” He washes me all over, leaving between my legs for last, the cloth lingering long after I must be clean.

I wiggle with impatience, already tingling, but he pulls his hand back instead of giving me anything I can grind on.

His smile is wicked as he stands. He’s much faster with his own clothes, and in no time at all, he stands before me naked, his cock fully erect. Branikk picks up the bucket of water and lifts it over his head. Tipping his face back, he lets it pour over him in a sensual display that has my thighs clenching.

“I thought you might like that.” He smirks. “You certainly seemed to last time.”

He’s talking about that time at the creek! My mouth falls open. “You knew I watched you?”

“I could smell your sweet arousal perfuming the air. It’s what made me so hard.”

The cloth moves over him with practiced efficiency, only slowing when it reaches his cock. He wraps his hand around it and gives it one good stroke, and my mouth goes dry. It’s just like that time at the creek. Only now, I’m not hidden.

And I’m close enough to touch. I glide my hand across his damp stomach, loving the way the muscles flex and jump underneath my fingers.

With a growl, he scoops me from my seat and carries me to the sunken pool. A set of stone steps lead down into the water, and he settles on a submerged seat with me in his lap.

The hot water rises to my shoulders, feeling hella decadent, and I moan.

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