Page 35 of Claimed By the Wild Orc
Desire.
“You’re injured,” I said quickly, startled by the sharp thrum of my own pulse.
His mouth curved, slow and wicked. “That can’t stop me,” he murmured. “Nothing can stop me when it comes to you.”
Before I could respond, his hand cupped my jaw, tilting my face to his. His lips found mine, warm and unyielding, and everything else melted away.
The fire cracked. My breath caught.
And I let him kiss me, knowing the night was far from over.
MIRA
The fire crackled low, casting golden light across his bare skin. Shadows danced over the carved lines of his chest, the bandage at his shoulder stark against all that bronzed, scarred strength. But he didn’t flinch. Didn’t wince. He just looked at me. Like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
My breath caught.
“Your shoulder—” I started, fingers hesitating at the hem of his shirt, which I’d already pushed up. “Are you sure you should?—?”
He chuckled. A deep, rumbling sound that curled low in my belly. “Don’t be afraid you’ll hurt me now,” he said, voice thick with warmth. “You couldn’t if you tried.”
That should’ve earned a retort. Some biting reply about orc arrogance. But I didn’t speak because he was right. He looked like a storm, but he held me like I was made of spun glass.
I let my hands move. Over his ribs. Across the firm plane of his abdomen. Tracing the faint ridges of old scars with my fingertips, soft and reverent.
His eyes shuttered for a moment, the breath leaving his chest in a slow, controlled exhale. “Mira,” he murmured.
I slid into his lap, knees bracketing his hips. His hands were already there, warm and wide at my waist, grounding me. Guiding me. I leaned in and kissed him, slow at first, lingering. Letting myself savor the way his mouth moved against mine, hungry and deliberate.
I had kissed him before, but this… this was something else. There was no fear now. Only heat. Longing. Trust.
Whatever we’d shared before, now it was…
Deeper.
Better.
He’d killed for me, and I’d accepted his offering.
“Thank you,” I whispered under my breath, knowing he could hear me.
Gorran wasn’t the type to accept gratitude.
So I showed him by surrendering.
His hands moved up my back, fingers threading into my hair as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against mine, coaxing a low moan from my throat that I didn’t try to hide. My body arched, pressing closer, needing more.
“Mira,” he growled again, voice dark and reverent. “You’re mine.”
“Yes,” I whispered into his mouth, not because he asked, but because I wanted to give it. Give everything.
The furs were soft beneath us as he laid me down, the fire flickering behind him, lighting up the dark strands of his hair, the green of his skin. His wounds didn’t slow him. Didn’t stop the way he kissed down my throat, the way his mouth worshipped every inch of me.
When he entered me, it was slow. Gentle. He moved like he had all the time in the world, like nothing else mattered except this. Except me.
And I broke open.
There was no space for old fears. No room for the girl I used to be, the one who cowered through storms and learned to make herself small in the kitchens of a cold keep. That girl had been swallowed by firelight and the arms of a wild thing who treated her like something precious.
