Page 45 of Till Orc Do Us Part
And far too hungry for more.
CHAPTER 14
DROKHAZ
The door creaks as my fist meets the wood. I know she hears the danger in that sound—the splintering restraint of a man who spent hours pacing the pier, salt water freezing his lungs, and still couldn't escape the burn of her mouth.
I step inside. Her head snaps up from the stack of invoices, pen clenched white-knuckled.
"I didn’t want to leave," I rumble.
The air liquifies.
Rowan slams the pen down. "Then why thehelldid?—"
I’m across the room before she finishes, my hand cradling the back of her neck. Her breath hitches. My thumb finds her pulse—wildbird frantic under damp skin.
"Because once I start," I growl against her temple, "I won’t stop."
She fists my tie, silk strangling my throat as she drags my mouth to hers. "Not asking you to."
The world fractures.
Her teeth sink into my lower lip, sharp as her wit. I yank her onto the counter. Receipts scatter like snowfall. Her legs lock around my waist as I tear her blouse open, buttons pingingagainst shelves. She arches into my palm when I squeeze her breast—a breathless gasp that climbs into a laugh when I grind against her.
"All that tailoring," she pants, clawing at my belt, "and you still carry a dagger in your?—"
I bite her collarbone, silencing her with a moan. "Wouldn’t need it if you stopped talking."
"Make me."
My fingers dive under her skirt. She’s soaked through cotton, heat radiating as I drag my thumb over her clit. Her head thuds back against the travel memoirs section.
"Fuck." Her nails carve crescents into my shoulders. "Window?—"
I rip the curtains shut with one hand, the other still working her. "Better?"
"Still hate you." Her hips jerk.
"Liar." My finger slips inside her pussy, slick and tight. "You’d burn cities for me to do this again."
Her laughter shatters into a choked cry when I adds a second finger. "Shit—Gods?—"
I slow, withdrawing. "Say my name."
She spits a curse, grabbing my wrist. "Drokhaz?—"
I lift her off the counter. She crashes into shelves, my mouth on her neck, her hands shredding my shirt. Paperbacks rain down around us as I shove her tights to her ankles. Her palm slaps the wall when I sink to my knees.
"What—" she wheezes, "what thefuckare you?—"
My tongue licks the seam of her, her soaking wet slit greeting me anxiously. She screams.
Her thighs quiver around my ears. I lock her in place, one arm banded across her hips as she bucks. Her taste floods me—salt and citrus soap andher,pure and stark as dawn breaking.
"Monster," she sobs, fingers snarled in my hair.
I bite her inner thigh. "Scream it louder."
