Page 47 of Halfling
She liked how warm he was.
With a few more pleasantries, they bedded down for the night.
Though her blankets were comfortable and would avoid getting wet with the lining Orek had placed on the ground, and though the little cavern of their shelter was soon warm and cozy and darker even than the night outside, and though the rain fell in a soothing cadence, it took her much longer to fall asleep.
She lay awake knowing that Orek lay awake, too.
His breathing was even and easy, but she’d learned over their days together that he never fell asleep before her. Always kept watch first.
She liked that, too.
She likedhim.
Sorcha rooted further under her blankets and sighed, wishing her thoughts would quiet. But with the orc so close, she didn’t think it possible.
She wasawareof how his glossy head lay less than an arm’s length away. It took an unreasonable amount of will not to wiggle or squirm her hips.
Sorchalikedhim.
Oh, she’d felt attraction before. Although her life had been full of her family and duties at the stables, she’d had a few dalliances and even one romance with young men from the village. Nothing too serious, especially not when some of them had begun to make noise about marrying and expected her to leave her family.
Sorcha wouldneverdo that. For all that they vexed her, she loved them more than life.
She was no stranger to a good tumble, and to be truthful, most of those dalliances had been just for that, a curiosity to satiate or a way to pass a pleasurable hour. She’d learned valuable lessons, like what she liked and didn’t, as well as how to read a partner.
She felt herself quickening at the thoughts and turned toward the tree trunk since she couldn’t ease the growing pressure in her quim. Softly deepening her breathing, she calmed herself. Orcs had an excellent sense of smell, and trapped inside their shelter, she knew it would only take the smallest hint for him to know exactly what she was thinking of.
Would that be such a bad thing?
Well…she honestly didn’t know.
As their days together grew, so too did Sorcha’s notice of him. She anxiously awaited those small smiles of his, found that hint or flash of his fangs charming. While she may have at first found the breadth of his shoulders and chest intimidating, more than once she’d imagined running her hands all over that expanse of green flesh, feeling the strength of him for herself.
She was a little ashamed that she’d been applying salve far longer than he needed it.
He’d barely a scab now, healing far faster than humanly possible. The salve had nothing to do, and it was a waste of an important supply, but she still did it for the excuse of getting to touch him.
She’d be more embarrassed about it if she didn’t find the sight of her tanned but still peachy skin against his green flesh mesmerizing. Just like human tans and browns, his greens had variations in color and texture. His freckles were a darker green, and she found his skin did darken with the sun; she’d seen the line of difference when he changed his tunic.
Oh, no, I’m thinking about his chest again.
She shifted her hips as quietly as she could.
She had to stop it. He was her companion, her bodyguard. Perhaps he’d welcome an advance from her—but perhaps he wouldn’t. She couldn’t afford to lose him now, not when she was still so far from home.AndI need to get back.Though they hadn’t faced anything dangerous since the slavers, the journey was still a hard one, and it wasn’t just his strength and competence that eased her way. His companionship kept her sane.
Sorcha had rarely been alone in her life. Yes, she stole an afternoon away here and there, sometimes holing up at her Aunt Sofie’s, or sometimes traveling to Dundúran to see her friend Aislinn. That’s where she’d been going the day she was captured; she’d looked forward to her day away at the castle with Aislinn for weeks beforehand.
She’d had other friends as a child, but as her family grew and she grew, too, most had fallen to the wayside. Plants that were left towither without nourishment died. But her mother needed the help, the stables needed running. Thankfully, Aislinn, as Lord Darrow’s daughter and eldest child, wouldn’t be denied. She’d preserved their friendship through force of will, and Sorcha always looked forward to visiting her friend and hearing the castle gossip.
Despite being a little older than Sorcha and a lady, Aislinn Darrow was, to her father’s despair, still unmarried. With a younger brother as the heir apparent, she saw little reason to force herself into a marriage. Instead, she filled her days with projects she enjoyed and furthered her academic studies. Sorcha could listen raptly for hours as Aislinn regaled her with stories of what she’d been doing and reading.
There were times Sorcha burned with envy for the freedom Aislinn had.
Having grown up on stories of her knightly father’s deeds and reputation of the noble Lord Darrow, Sorcha had sometimes imagined having her own adventures. Traveling far and wide, seeking out interesting people and stories.
But they were all fantasies—she’d never abandon her family.
At least not by choice.
