Page 9 of Claimed By the Orc Lord

On my ass.

At his feet.

I swallowed hard as I forced my eyes up to see if he still had the blade out.

And up.

Andup.

Up, until I had to lean back and crane my neck so I could see that he was sheathing the weapon and fiddling with the black band on his arm. He murmured, and it fell away from his skin, a strap in his fingers as he slowly leaned toward me.

I needed to scramble back.

I needed to get up and run.

I needed to do anything other than stare at him while those warm tingles I’d felt earlier rippled through my body and kept me firmly in place.

While I was struggling with what weird magic he was using to paralyze me, I felt something warm slap around my neck.

The band he’d pulled from his arm was now around my throat. With a low murmur of a word I didn’t understand, I felt it tighten, nearly molding to my skin. I’d process later that his bulging bicep was so big he had to tighten the thing on my neck, because at the moment I was just trying to pull the soft material off me.

It wouldn’t budge.

It fastened around my throat like some fucked up choker… or a collar.

Then he grinned, leaning forward so he could look me in the eyes—his fingers slid beneath my chin and lifted my gaze to his.

Fuck. Monsterfuck.

The curse caught on the back of my tongue as he leaned in close enough for the warmth of his breath to play against my lips. There was a small part of me that wanted to sway forward… maybe fall against him and ask forhelp. He was so big, and his violet eyes were like a galaxy swirl, and his mouth wasreallypretty and looked soft, and…

I stopped myself mid-thought—shit, did hitting against the barrier so many times fuck with me that bad? Or was it all of Rainn’s books putting ideas in my head that were definitelynotmy usual?

Because I liked women.

Humanwomen.

Not fucking green monsters who were a foot taller than me and looked like they’d bust me in half like a log splitter.

He studied me for another second and smiled…. and when he spoke, I understood him this time.

Well, kind of, because the word that came out of his mouth and the way he was staring at me madenosense.

His voice was a deep rumble, spilling along my skin and sliding straight into my bones as he spoke.

“Mate.”

Chapter four

Nash

Anything.

He said he would do anything. A part of me was frustrated that he thought I’d hurt him. He was my mate, which meant he had to feel the connection too. Fated mates could sense the draw between them from the moment they met, even before they took the mating bite.

So if I could feel it—the line between us, the warmth when I looked at him, the overwhelming need to possess, to keep, toown—he had to feel something too.

So why did he think I would hurt him?

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