Page 24 of Rapunzel's Outlaw Orc
“Brannock,” I whimper, my eyes locked on the play of emotion across his face. His emerald eyes are dark, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. He looks savage beneath me, and somehow so beautiful.
“Yeah, just like that, princess,” he grunts, rocking me on his lip.
It doesn’t take long for me to sort out the rhythm. My thighs squeeze his hips as I lift and drop back down, my hips rolling to take him deeper. He watches me the entire time, his gaze drifting between my face and the place where we’re joined.
I should feel embarrassed or overwhelmed at how intently he watches, but I don’t. I feel wild and free, desired in a way I’ve only ever dreamed about before now. And maybe a little powerful too. Like I’m in control for once, not Dame Gothel or the roots or magic or anything but me. This is my choice. I’m the one making him moan and groan. I’m the one who makes him look so fierce and desperate.
I’ve been powerless my whole life, but not here. Not now. Not with Brannock.
I plant my hands against his chest, giving myself leverage. I lift and drop down harder, faster, taking him so deep it feels a little like I can’t breathe.
“That’s it, princess,” he rasps, one hand slipping between my legs. His thumb rolls across my clit, pulling a cry from my lips. “Take what you need from me. Use my body for your pleasure.”
“Our pleasure,” I gasp.
“You think I don’t feel it?” He tilts his head to the side, like the question is important. “Believe me, princess, I do.” He bucks his hips when I land against his lap, driving himself deeper. “You’re wrapped around me so tightly I can’t breathe.”
“Brannock,” I whimper.
“Every time I look at you, I feel something, Rapunzel.” He sits up suddenly, claiming my lips in a hard kiss, as if he’s trying tobreathe the way he feels into my lungs, to fill me with it. “I feel you everywhere. You’re mine.”
I sob his name, unraveling on top of him. My body clenches as the cord snaps, sending me hurtling over the edge. I fall forward, burying my face in his throat. He still has one hand between my legs, working me through it. He uses the other to lift and drop me so fast that it feels like I’m flying, his body the only thing tethering me to earth. Not the roots or this tower or magic, just him. Just Brannock.
I shatter again, calling out his name. But I don’t fall alone. He comes with me, growling my name as his arms lash around my waist, caging me against his body. But if his embrace is a prison, I don’t want to leave it. It feels more like home than anything ever has, and so does he.
We lie in a tangled heap afterward, sweat cooling on our bodies. For the first time in forever, I feel complete.
Whole.
Seen.
I sniff, wiping the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
“Rapunzel?” Brannock tips my face toward his, looking concerned. “You’re crying. Gods, did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m just… I think I’m…happy.”
He smiles, slow and certain. “I know.”
“Arrogant,” I murmur, but the word melts when he tips my chin and nods past me.
“Look around, princess.”
I do—and gasp.
The tower is blooming.
Vines as delicate as green ribbons have crept from the cracks between stones, curling over the floorboards. Hundreds of tiny white and purple blossoms star the new growth, unfurling as if they’ve been waiting for someone to turn on the light inside me. Moss pads the splintered boards beside the stove. A fern unfolds from a seam near the mirror with a delicate sigh. The air smells like rain and crushed mint and something warm and sunlit that I don’t have a word for.
I press my palm to Brannock’s chest. “Did we… do this?”
He huffs a laugh against my mouth. “Felt like it, princess.”
I swat him, uselessly giddy. “I mean the flowers.”
His eyes soften. “I thinkyoudid it. I think that when you’re?—”
The tower interrupts him with an almightygroan.
