Page 7 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

I lifted the bead to the candle to peer at it. The hole had not dug sufficiently deep, so I rolled it in my fingers and bent over it again, drilling from the opposite side, hoping I was lined up properly so it would hang evenly.

Mayhap I would have devoted more time to wooing her—or at least try to change her opinion of me—had Ihadthe time.

Instead, within the moon’s cycle of her arrival, we receive word of my brother’s disappearance.

Kragorn and I had shared a womb, like so many pairs of orc brothers, but he’d been born before me, and thus destined to be the next Bloodfire chief, thank the gods. How often had I blessed Malla the Beginner for granting that responsibility tohimrather than me?

But during the raid last summer against the Bladesedge warriors, Kragorn had gone missing. Notfallen, I had to remind myself often. There was no evidence Kragorn wasdead. He was just…gone.

And without a chief, Clan Bloodfire had turned tome.

The tip of the drill hit the pocket I’d made earlier, and I tightened my hold on the bead as I joined the two channels, then blew out the center and placed the bead in the bowl with the others.

I lifted a few and allowed them to roll between my heat-callused fingers, satisfied by their smoothness and simplicity.

I never wanted the responsibility of running the clan. I understood the forge, understood heat, understood how to craft. I was happiest there, creating things with my hammer and tools.

Instead, I’d spent the last half a year struggling to lead my clan in the right direction. Thank the gods below that so many had agreed to join a council, to help me lead. It had been one of my better ideas, I thought, and allowed me to not have to worry about making all the decisions myself.

And it allowed me a little more time to forge or craft.

With a sigh, I let the last of the beads trail through my fingers then turned to the sawdust on the table. I needed to clean up then try to sleep. Tomorrow would be another long day, and I had plenty to accomplish.

Still, as I swept up the detritus of my project, I remembered the knife.

The knife that Myra had brought me. I’d examined it after she—and her icy heart—had run from me. It hadn’t beenpoorlymade, not the way I’d expected…but it definitely needed a new handle. ‘Twould be easy enough to carve a new one, but…

I hadn’t started on that project yet, because I wasn’t certain how I wanted to do it. Wasn’t sure how to make it truly special.

Standing up, I stretched until my bones popped, not bothering to hold back the groan as my muscles released. I’d bathed earlier but still needed to visit the hot springs. I’d been avoiding it lately, mainly because ‘twas humiliating to be seen with a near-constant cockstand.

The half-year since Myra had come into my life had been frustratingly abstinent. MyKteerwouldn’t allow me to be with another female when my Mate was so close…but my Mate had made her feelings clear.

I’d called her icy earlier today, but shewascaring and gentle and warm with everyone…everyone who wasn’tme. The fact that she had never smiled at me, never flirted back, and had only treated me with disdain? It told me everything I needed to know.

But by Torvar’s hammer!

If Myra ever gave me theleastindication that she was interested in me?

Deep in my chest, myKteerstirred at the thought, and I pressed my claws into my skin, trying to calm it.

If she did? I would show her such pleasure.

She willnae.

Aye. She didn’t know what she wanted from life. Fromme.

There were times I scented arousal on her, and while myKteer—and my cock—had exalted in knowing she wasn’t immune to my charms, the fact she controlled it, sublimated it… Well, it told me how she felt about me. Ordidn’tfeel.

If she ever gave me an indication shedidwant me, I’d long known what I would do. I would lead her to the ending we both wanted.Needed. I was so much more experienced than her and could teach her so many things.

Just the thought of it—of her staring up at me with those dark eyes lidded with desire and her lips parted breathlessly—made me groan.

Unbidden, my hand dropped to my cock, cupping it through the wool of my kilt.

Myra was controlled and reserved, but in bed? I prayed she would allow herself to let go, to revel in the pleasure I could bring her. I stroked myself, imagining the way she would respond, the little mewls of pleasure I knew I could tease from her as I licked her.

With another groan, I yanked up my kilt, my breath hissing between my teeth as my hand closed around my cock.

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