Page 82 of Halfling
Many men woke to hard cocks in the morning; perhaps he’d been half-asleep and just moved on instinct.
Doesn’t make me feel better,she thought sourly. She just wanted some sign that whatever attraction was there wasn’t just because she was a warm female body.
But fates, she didn’t know if she had it in her to keep pursuing this. Her pride could only take so much.
As his shoulders had heaved, face pressed against the wall, Sorcha had blinked back tears, embarrassment sucking away all the tingling pleasure of his touch. She wanted the blankets to swallow her whole and never come out from under them again.
Needless to say, neither of them had been chatty that day. He’d disappeared after dinner last night for a long while and had apparently absconded again.
Taking what chances he has to be away from me,a sore, merciless part of her thought.
Grumbling, Sorcha rubbed her hands over her face, trying to bury the hurt. So her travel companion didn’t want to cuddle with her. She’d survive.
But she’d much rather cuddle him. Amongst many,manyother things.
On a gusty sigh, Sorcha stood and strode out of camp, determined to find him and get going. Hopefully they’d get back to their easy friendship in a few days, but if this stilted awkwardness between them was how it was going to be, she wanted to get home sooner rather than later so she could lick her wounded pride in peace.
An excited chitter echoed from above, and she heard branches rustling before Darrah dropped onto her shoulder. She caught his backside and helped him stand on her shoulder.
“At least you’re ready to get on the road.”
The kit snuffled at her hair, checking that there wasn’t anything tasty hiding in there.
Sorcha walked through the trees toward the lake they found the night before. The river they followed had spilled out into the wide lake, its banks littered with worn round pebbles. Maples and oaks lined the lake on either side, surrounding it in a veil of autumn reds and oranges. The sky was clear, the sun glittering on the water almost blinding.
Brown leaves crunched under her boots as she wove between the trees, avoiding cones and roots. The trees had made something of a berm, their roots holding back the soil. On the other side was a five-foot drop down to a narrow, pebbled beach. Sorcha followed along the ridge of the berm, growing a little more worried with every moment she didn’t spot her companion.
He’s a big green halfling, hard to miss.
He hadn’t said anything about hunting, and despite apparently not being interested in her romantic advances, he’d always taken her safety very seriously. He wouldn’t just leave her out here.
Scratching Darrah under the chin for a little comfort, Sorcha continued along the bank.
She trekked for several minutes before she spotted him. The broad swathe of green caught her eye against the vibrant autumn colors, and with ahumph, she headed in his direction, blanketing her mounting hurt with a thick layer of grumpiness.
But when she came through the trees near where she’d seen him, she realized why he’d been so easy to spot.
Orek stood naked in the lake with his back to the shore, water lapping at his bare thighs. The wide expanse of his shoulders flexed, the greens of his skin brilliant in the morning sun.
Sorcha’s breath caught in her throat.
His naked back was beautiful, all the muscles rippling and releasing in a perfect symphony as his hands worked in front of him. The perfect globes of his backside clenched, the dimples just above them thrown into stark shadow.
She watched, mesmerized, as his powerful thighs trembled, water rippling around him. His head tilted back, the long, glossy fall of his hair catching the light. The thick cords of his neck popped against his skin, and she thought she caught a hint of fang as he bared his teeth.
A groan echoed across the water, spearing her with an instant, devastatingneed.
Sorcha clapped her hand over her mouth before her gasp could escape her lips.
He’s pleasuring himself.
The thought sent another wave of tingling warmth through her, pooling between her thighs. Her nipples tightened against the leather of her stays as she watched that backside flex with every thrust of his hips.
Sorcha couldn’t tear her gaze away, hungry for the sight he made, so beautiful and raw and male. Something about seeing him like this, stark naked in the wilderness, made her skin go tight and her limbs go lax.
Her cheeks burned with how quickly she went slick between her thighs, her pulse beating at her neck and quim.
Before she knew what she did, she’d taken a half-step toward him.
