Page 42 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
“That’s good,” he encouraged, as my swing arced through the space where he’d stood half a second ago.
“I didn’t stab you, so it’snotgood.” I tried again, still failing to hit him.
Sweat had made his muscles look like he’d oiled himself up for some weight-lifting contest. I was equally sweaty, but not as glamorous. My hair had partially come loose from the scrunchie I bundled it up in when we started to fight, making what was supposed to be a messy bun just plain messy. My clothes felt like they were glued to my chest and back. I probablyshouldhave taken my shirt off. In fact, taking my shirt off sounded like a damn good idea right now.
Time to put an end to this knife fight and get out the hand-axe.
I changed tactics, diving into his chest. It was like throwing myself against a boulder. He didn’t budge but did wrap an arm around my waist to steady me. I took advantage of my position and stabbed him repeatedly in the back.
“There. You’re dead. I killed you.”
He tightened his grip, lowering his arm so I could feelthe hard length of him against my stomach. “It would take more than a few knife wounds to kill me.”
No doubt, as evidenced by that scar across his ribs.
I stabbed him a few more times. “Have you bled out yet?”
“Still alive.” Dropping his rubber knife, he reached up with his other hand, wrapped his fingers around the nape of my neck, and leaned down to kiss me.
Chapter 17
Ozar
Orc romances were an explosion of emotions and physical attraction. I’d expected my courtship of a human female to be slower in pace and more cerebral, even though I’d immediately felt that Jordan was as physically attracted to me as I was to her. From the moment she’d walked through my door, I’d sensed that Jordan was on the edge of sharing my furs. Indecision? Yes, but that glow in her eyes, the way she took every opportunity to touch me, how she’d leaned in to initiate our kiss on the couch—all of that gave me hope.
Everything was so much better than I’d hoped for. She’d honestly loved the food I’d prepared. I’d been so ready to feed her by hand as our customs dictated, but her uneasiness had me switch course, and it had been the right choice. The wine and the sweets she’d brought were incredible, and it seemed that she shared my unusual love of dairy products from her pledge to treat me to ice cream. When she’d offered to teach me to skate, I’d realized that my courtship had been scoring me points.
So I’d taken a chance and offered to teach her knife-play with the rubber weapons I’d impulsively purchased for our clan. It had been a risky decision but had paid off. Her eyes sparkled. Her creamy skin gleamed with sweat. Her hair had escaped its ties and was damp and wild, teasing me with what she would look like after I’d brought her to ecstasy.
Jordan was a natural. Physically fit and with that agility and incredible instinct I’d observed in the human hockey team that had opposed us, she darted around, surpassing me with unexpected feints and attacks. My admiration for her grew by the second, and my hand-axe was solid with approval.
A female…womanthat used every wile and advantage to win against an opponent? I didn’t think I could love her any more, but tonight Jordan had won my heart and soul.
Once more, she dove forward into my arms. She’d employed this tactic so many times before and succeeded as she always had. I wrapped my arms around her, reveling in the softness of her against me, the sinewy muscles, the fragile bones in my embrace.
So delicate. So fierce. I didn’t know if it was the mate bond or not, but I could not imagine ever spending my life with another.
I felt the jab of the rubber knife into my back and couldn’t help but smile at her cleverness. She’d declared me dead, and even though I’d protested that it would take more than a few stabs to kill me, she was right. I was dead. I was hers for the taking, my very life in her soft hands.
I pulled back, a shudder coursing through me. “I would be honored if you would share my furs.”
Jordan tilted her head, eyeing me quizzically.
“I want to take you to my bed and lay you upon my furs,” I explained. “But I cannot do this without yourpermission and consent. If you allow, I will show you my dedication to giving you pleasure. I want you to be my fem—woman. And I hope that my skills on my furs will convince you that you will be the first in my every thought, that I will put your wants and needs above the mountains, the heavens, and the land.”
Her eyes widened, her pupils darkening to the point that her eyes appeared nearly black.
“Yes. Consent. Full consent. I am enthusiastic and eagerly willing to share your furs,” she said in a breathless whisper.
With a growl, I scooped her into my arms and lifted her into my embrace. Then I tossed her over my shoulder.
She burst out laughing. “I was thinking this was a bride-carry, but it’s turned into me being carted off like a warrior’s prize.”
I hesitated, shifting my grip on her. “Is that unacceptable for an orc to do to a woman?”
She raked her nails across the skin of my back, hard enough for me to feel it, but light enough that she would not draw blood. “No. Take me to your furs, Ozar. And let’s show each other the pleasure we can give and receive.”
I hauled her into my bedroom, restraining myself enough to lay her gently on my fur-covered bed. Straddling her body, I gently removed her shirt and frowned at the seamless, lacy device wrapped around her breasts.
