Page 45 of Bidding on the Orc Outcast

“I know it’s just one incident. But for the first time since…” He swallowed hard. “Since everything happened, I feel like maybe there’s hope. That I can be part of Fairhaven Falls again.”

She smiled at him, her eyes full of that unwavering faith that both terrified and thrilled him.

“With you.” The words came out rough. “If that’s what you want. If you’re willing to deal with…” He gestured vaguely at himself, at all his broken pieces.

Her fingers pressed against his lips, stopping his words. The simple touch sent sparks through his entire body. He fought the urge to take her hand in his mouth, to taste her skin.

“What I want,” she said, “is for you to stop hiding who you really are. The orc who protected that girl today - that’s who you’ve always been. You just needed to be reminded.”

She saw him - really saw him - in a way no one had in years. Not as the troubled teenager who’d made mistakes, or the monster the rumors had painted him as, but as himself.

His breath caught as she laced her fingers through his and rose to her feet. Her radiant smile lit up her whole face as she tugged him toward her bedroom. His heart thundered against his ribs, desire and nerves warring inside him.

The room was as bright and colorful as she was - vintage floral wallpaper, a patchwork quilt in jewel tones, and little touches that spoke of her everywhere. The morning sun spilled through gauzy curtains, painting patterns across her skin.

She reached up and touched his face, her fingers tracing the edge of his tusk. The gentle exploration made him shiver. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, breathing in her sweet scent.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice rough.

Her answer was to pull him down for a kiss. The last of his hesitation crumbled as she pressed against him. He swept her up in his arms, marveling at how perfectly she fit there.

She was so small, so delicate compared to him, but there was nothing fragile about the way she responded to his touch. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself against his throbbing erection.

With a low growl, he carried her to the bed, laying her down among the riot of color. Her dark hair fanned out across the quilt, her eyes shining as she reached for him. He followed her down, bracing his weight on his forearms so he didn’t crush her.

Her hands traced the muscles of his arms, his shoulders, his chest, as if she were memorizing him by touch alone. Every brush of her fingers sent sparks of heat through him, and he wanted more. So much more. Her dress had slipped up her thighs, and he slid a hand beneath it, reveling in the smooth silk of her skin.

Her breath hitched as his fingers traced the curve of her leg, teasing at her inner thigh. She squirmed beneath him, her nails digging into his back. The tiny pricks of pain only heightened the sensation, and his cock twitched in response. A soft sound escaped her throat, and he dipped his head to kiss her again, swallowing the needy little noise. He captured her lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently, and she gasped. The sound shot through him, and he deepened the kiss, claiming her mouth. She responded with equal hunger, her tongue tangling with his. It was intoxicating, addictive, and he never wanted to stop.

He tore his mouth from hers and trailed kisses along her jawline, down the smooth column of her throat. She arched against him as he nipped at the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Her scent surrounded him, her skin flushed and warm.

Her hands slid between them, tugging at the buttons of her dress. He lifted himself enough for her to wiggle out of the dress, leaving her in just a scrap of lace that barely covered her breasts.

“Beautiful.” His voice was a low rumble as he traced the edge of the lace with one finger. Her skin flushed pink, her nipples hard beneath the thin fabric.

She reached for him again, her fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He obliged her, sitting up and stripping off the offending garment in one smooth motion. Her eyes widened, taking in the expanse of his bare chest. He tensed, waiting for the usual fear or disgust that came with seeing his scars. But her expression only showed hunger and need. She ran her hands over the planes of his chest, tracing the lines of old scars with gentle fingers.

“You’re perfect.” Her words were a whisper, and he bent down to capture her lips again.

This time, the kiss was slow and languid. He savored the taste of her, the way she melted against him as he trailed a hand down her side. He traced the curve of her hip, the swell of her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and she gasped into his mouth. He did it again, loving the way her body responded to his touch. She was so responsive, so eager. It was intoxicating.

He broke the kiss and moved down her body, pressing a kiss to the soft curve of her belly. She writhed beneath him, her breath coming in short gasps as he teased her through the lace of her bra. Finally, he took pity on her and tugged the flimsy fabric down. Her nipples were rosy and tight, begging for attention. He took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. She whimpered, her back arching off the bed. He moved to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention.

Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as he feasted on her. Her hips bucked, rubbing against his cock, and he groaned.

He released her nipple and looked up at her, his voice husky. “I need to taste you again.”

Her eyes widened, and a shy smile curved her lips. “Please.”

He slid down her body, his hands skimming over her thighs. He tugged her panties down, and she obligingly lifted her hips to help. The scrap of lace joined her bra on the floor, leaving her completely naked. He spread her thighs, baring her to his hungry gaze.

She was glistening wet, her folds flushed and swollen. He bent his head and licked a slow stripe from her entrance to her clit. Her taste exploded on his tongue, sweet and tangy. He groaned, diving back in for more. He licked and sucked, exploring every inch of her. She was so wet, so responsive. Every lick of his tongue made her gasp and writhe.

He focused his attention on her clit, flicking it with his tongue. Her hands clenched in the sheets, her body tense and quivering. He slipped one finger inside her, then two, curling them to find the spot that made her cry out. He worked her mercilessly, his fingers and tongue driving her higher and higher.

She was close, he could feel it in the way her body clenched around his fingers. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue lashing her clit as he thrust his fingers inside her. Her cries grew louder, her hips bucking as he pushed her to the edge.

With a scream, she came, her body shuddering as her orgasm crashed over her. He kept licking and stroking her, drawing out her pleasure until she lay limp and sated beneath him.

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