Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
She stares at me for a moment, then shifts from one foot to the other. “You’re not like them, are you? Why are you following their orders?”
“I am Oran,” I growl. “Nobody orders me.”
“Really? Because it looked like that guy thinks you’re his lap dog.” She claps her hands, mocking me. “Go fetch, play dead, roll over.”
My muscles tighten as her words cut through me like little knives. Why do I care? I’ve never cared what anyone thinks, least of all a tiny human female I’m supposed to guard. “He doesn’t order me. I do as I want to do.”
“And what is it you want to do right now, Oran?” She licks her lips, and my own mouth goes dry. Fuck. The thought of that tongue touching me, of her lips wrapped around my cock as her blue eyes stare up into mine. I’ve heard of this oral from orc and humans in the fighting places I go. The thought makes me stall, I’ve never imagined anything like that before, even when I watched her all those days and nights. Something is changing inside me and it feels dangerous.
The pace of my breathing quickens. I grit my teeth, trying to calm my mating member as it painfully thickens inside my leather pants.
Her eyes go wide as she watches me, and I note her sudden silence. Does she feel this too? Is it possible?
No. She’s trying to put me off my stride, trying to get inside my head. “You need anything, you tell me. Now sleep,” I grunt, and turn away.
“Wait. Sleep? It’s like noon. Come back. Oran…”
I ignore her, stomping away, needing distance between us. She is a prisoner, that is all. It’s my job to guard her. My job. Cardan comes into my mind as I climb the stairs to the second floor. He doesn’t order me. She’s wrong. I do what I want to do.
The floor of my bedroom here is bare wooden planks, and they creak beneath me as I step across. But I’m not going to the bed. I can’t. From the corner of my eye I see the small package Cardan has left, the taster he mentioned of things to come, but it doesn’t interest me. Only one thing interests me right now. I crouch at the opposite end of the room, where a crack in the floor offers a full view of the pit below.
And her.
She’s still staring at the space where I stood, her arms crossed. But as they fall, I see something. Tiny hard peaks pushing out at the front of her shirt. Even as she mutters curses to herself and turns to survey her new accommodations, there’s no hiding those round little pebbles calling out for my mouth.
I imagine the obscenity of it. My thick, rough fingers rolling over something so delicate and beautiful. It’s disgusting, unnatural, wrong. I shouldn’t want it. I’m an abomination. I would only cause her pain. And yet…
These feelings bubble inside me. They are painful, not the pleasure I hear of whispered by my brothers and their mates. Still, she makes me want things I shouldn’t want. And I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.
As I watch, she approaches the mattress and lays a hand on it. Part of me wants to bring her up here, but I know that’s not possible. Given the chance I know she will run. And if that happened, I have no control over what comes next.
She climbs on top, lays down and curls into a little ball.
And imagine it’s my arms she’s curling into.
Chapter
Three
Ivy
I’m losing track of time. Oran has a fire burning in the center of the open space and he’s lit torches along the walls and candles on tables scattered throughout. The light creates long shadows everywhere, even down into the pit.
I gave climbing out a good try while he disappeared for a while, but even with my insane determination, that was a total failure. I have to get him to get me out before the others come back because I’m damn sure when they take me out, my chances of getting away are slim to none.
Don’t get me wrong, I want out, but…there’s this sort of clicking inside my chest. Like a timer counting down to something. This pit feels like the center of chaos and peace at the same time.
There’s not much I can do but think and lay on the dumb mattress, which I did for a few hours I’d guess. All that time, I had the sense he was watching. I listened for his steps, his breathing, the low catch of grunts in his throat. I’m pretending the clenching tension low in my belly is anxiety, but I’ve never been a good liar and I don’t see the point in lying to myself.