Page 45 of Halfling
A larger part, though, didn’t care. That part wanted her scent in his lungs and her smiles in his life.
Orek had never been reckless, could never afford to be. Stupidity would’ve gotten him killed long ago. Perhaps it should’ve worried him, then, how heedlessly he careened toward disaster, as only disaster could come of this attraction, but he couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to.
He’d only to step back into camp for all his hand’s hard work to go undone.
Sorcha bent over the kit, talking nonsense to him and scratching his belly as Darrah rolled around and tried to nip her fingers.
He knew he was in trouble—he’d felt lust before, had let his thoughts run rampant over orcesses. He’d imagined lying with them, possessing them for a night, finally exploring another’s body and being touched in return. What would it be like to finally slide his cock inside the warmth of a willing female? The wondering had tormented him as a youth.
But when he looked upon Sorcha, he wanted all those things but so muchmore.He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her so close she became part of him, so close she could never leave nor part with him. He wanted to know what it was to be inside her, surrounded by her warmth, and hear her moans echo in his ear.
Orcs were covetous creatures, and he coveted her so fiercely, he already knew there was no turning back. Probably knew it before even tugging his cock to her for the first time.
He’d heard of males having such feelings and all the stupid things they did to please their females. The stories he’d heard and mated males he’d seen in the clan had baffled him, for he couldn’t quite imagine losing his head so completely—stupidity gets you killed.
Then Sorcha smiled.
Fates, he was so stupid. And he wasn’t about to stop.
Because no one had told him, no one warned of howaddictingsuch feelings would be.
She smiled up at him then, letting Darrah gnaw on one of her fingers clutched between his baby hands.
Orek’s heart lurched in an erratic rhythm.
There’d always been an ugliness inside him, a part that hurt and envied andwanted,and even it was enamored with her. With her,for her,it was different—a dark possessiveness that still wanted but also longed and worried. It wanted to care for her.
When he could, he woke before her to begin the morning meal and tidy camp. He lifted her pack from the ground so she could slip her arms through the straps. He held the corners of blankets when she insisted on folding them neatly before setting out. He always gave up his best fur, that dark thing inside him needing her to be warm and comfortable and safe.
And surrounded by something that smelled of him.
Oh, yes. He was in so much trouble. He’d never cared for something or someone before, had considered himself incapable.
But he was more than capable—and so, so willing.
The stubborn woman insisted on doing things for herself and even tried to take care of him. He let her when it meant touching, and honestly, it wasn’t just that dark part that wanted to soak in her attention. Applying salve or spooning him his dinner, he let her make herself useful. She seemed to want it, and he enjoyed watching her. With her attention trained on a task, he could gaze upon her all he wanted without fear of being caught.
Wolf pup, indeed.
“Looks safe?” she asked as she stood. She nodded at the darkness, where the river flowed near their camp.
Throat failing him, he nodded.
“No catfish?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
They’d seen exactly one the morning before last and she’d shuddered in horror, refusing to go anywhere near the water the rest of the day.
“None that wanted me, at least.”
She scowled at him, but it was ruined by her grin.
“I’ll go wash up, then.”
“Stay close.”
With a wave, she took her turn in the dark, and Orek took the reprieve.
He scooped up Darrah and put the kit on his shoulder as he set about making their beds for the night.
