Page 61 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

Myra

I did not sleepwell that night.

It might have been because I’d napped in Vartok’s arms atop the horse yesterday afternoon. It might have been because these western isles managed to be even colder than the Highlands. It might have been the constant niggling worry over how my sister was doing back home. It might have been because, despite his arms around me, the ground was even harder—and rockier—than my cot in Avaleen’s home.

Or it might have been the fear coursing through my veins.

Last night I’d almost fallen. I’d almost fallen into the camp of Battleborn orcs who were using one woman with gusto. What would have happened if Ihadfallen? Vartok would have rushed to save me, and I would have had to watch as they slaughtered him.

When Ididmanage to fall asleep, I was plagued by visions—nightmares—of what might have happened. Oh, he was brave and he was strong, and I’d seen him practicing with the other warriors enough to know he could hold his own in a fight…but he couldn’t have defeated so many of the fierce sea raiders, not alone.

He’d have been killed, and I would have my heart ripped out.

‘Twas easier to just not sleep rather than have to see those horrible images.

So I lay there on the rocky ground, wrapped in Vartok’s arms and his fur cloak. Shivering because we couldn’t afford a fire to announce our presence, I wished for morning, trying to ignore the hard oat cakes we’d eaten for supper which sat heavy in my stomach.

At some point in the night it became clear he wasn’t sleeping either. Mayhap his heart and mind were full of worry as well, or mayhap he was just keeping watch. Either way, we didn’t speak of it.

And then, in the wee hours before dawn, his hand moved to my breast. ‘Twas a casual touch, one which might have been an unconscious movement in sleep…except I didn’t think he was asleep.

I held my breath as his fingers tightened, just slightly. Squeezing, cupping. Had he done this last month, I might not have responded the way I did. But now that I knew his habits and knew he knew what I liked, my body responded immediately to his touch. Liquid heat pooled between my legs, and beneath the layers of my clothing I pressed my thighs together to capture that sensation.

We made love slowly.

He touched me in all the right ways, with my back pressed against his chest, my arse cradling his hard cock. His hand caressed and plucked and fondled, slowly driving me mad as the eastern sky brightened.

And then, when he finally inched my gown up and slid his cock into me from behind, I was so ready I moaned aloud.

His palm covered my mouth.

“Hush,dkaar,” he breathed in my ear. “We dinnae ken who might be around.”

When he was fully seated and my orgasm claimed me, I was glad for his hand in place to muffle my sounds of ecstasy.

Vartok began to slowly move, his thrusts gentle, strong, driving me nearly mad with his patience. His hand fell to my breast again, then lower, and when I came again, I managed to bite down on my cries of pleasure.

And when he pulled his cock from me to spill against the rocky ground?

My glow of pleasure was dimmed by disappointment.

With sighs, we rolled to our feet with the dawn, keeping quiet as we broke camp and readied the horse. Then we snuck back to the cliffs and carefully peered down.

The Battleborn were gone.

I don’t know where they slept last night, but they—and their great boat—were gone, leaving only churned-up sand and the remains of the great bonfires to mark their presence.

I’ll admit I breathed several sighs of relief.

“Well,” announced Vartok, sitting back on his haunches. “I suppose this means we’re free to harvest sea holly? Ye’ll teach me how to do it?”

But last night’s fear was still sharp in my stomach.

“They are really gone?” I leaned out to peer down the beach. “Where did they go?”

“I dinnae ken,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “And I’m no’ sure I want to ken. They might be still on the island, or they might have returned to Islay. But either way, I am glad we dinnae have to worry about them.”

I shot him a glance, remembering my horrible dreams.

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