Page 16 of Bidding on the Orc Outcast (Sweet Monster Treats)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

V arek’s heart hammered against his ribs as Posy’s smile lit up her face. Fuck, she was beautiful. Pink silk edged with lace clung delightfully to her curves. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and tug her against his chest. To kiss every delicious inch of her soft skin. To never let her go.

Instead his fingers tightened around the cardboard box of candles, the scent of lavender and pine wafting up from inside, and he thrust the package towards her.

Her smile dimmed, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features, and the sight twisted something deep in his chest.

“I…” The words caught in his throat. He cleared it, shifted his weight. “That’s not why I came.”

Her eyebrows lifted, hope rekindling in those warm brown eyes.

The box trembled in his grip. “Flora said I was being an idiot.”

“Was she right?”

“She usually is. I-I wanted to see you.” The admission came out rough, scraping past years of carefully constructed barriers. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She reached for the box, her small fingers brushing his as she took it. The contact sent sparks racing up his arm, and he had to clench his fists to keep from reaching for her.

“The candles are just an excuse?” A teasing note crept into her voice, but her eyes were soft and warm.

“Yes.” He dragged in a breath heavy with her honeysuckle scent. “I know I’ve been…” He gestured vaguely, unable to find the right words.

“Confusing? Distant? Running hot and cold?” She set the box on the table next to the door and took a step closer to him.

His mouth went dry. “All of that.”

“And now?” Another step brought her close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

“Now I’m here.” He unclenched his fists, letting his guard drop just a fraction. “If you’ll still have me.”

The radiant smile returned, warming something deep in his chest. She stepped back from the doorway, gesturing for him to enter.

“Come in. Please.”

He hesitated, forcing himself to warn her one last time. “People will talk.”

“Let them.” She took his hand and tugged him inside. “I don’t care what they say.”

His feet felt like lead as he crossed the threshold. He’d forgotten how welcoming her apartment felt. The vintage furniture she’d chosen gave the space a cozy, lived-in feel that made his own cabin seem stark and empty in comparison.

He stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do next. Her small hand was still clasped in his, but the silence stretched between them, broken only by the tick of an old clock on the wall.

“Are you hungry?” she asked finally, breaking the silence. “I could make us something.” She hesitated, her cheeks turning that pretty pink again. “Well, try to make something. Though after what happened last time, maybe we should just order in?”

The memory of smoke and flames made his lips twitch. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” She took a step toward the kitchen, then stopped. “Though fair warning - my cooking skills haven’t improved in the last few days.”

The self-deprecating tone in her voice eased some of the tension in his shoulders. He found himself following her into the kitchen, drawn by her warmth like a moth to flame.

“I could cook.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Her eyes widened, and he fought the urge to take them back. “If you want.”

“You cook?” she asked eagerly.

He shrugged. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

She bounced on her toes. “I’d love that. Though I’m not sure what I have…” She opened her refrigerator, peering inside. “There’s eggs, some vegetables, cheese…”

The sight of her bent over, pink silk stretched tight across that delicious ass, made his mouth water. He wanted to strip her bare, to bury his face between her thighs and feast. His body responded to the thought, his cock pressing painfully against his jeans. He forced his gaze away, focusing on the ingredients she’d listed.

“Omelets,” he said roughly.

She straightened and looked up at him. Her cheeks turned pink again and he wondered if she knew what he’d been thinking. Her nipples stiffened beneath the pink silk, impossibly tempting, but he cleared his throat and tried again.

“We can make omelets. With vegetables and cheese.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said breathlessly, as she moved aside to let him pull things out of the fridge.

As he started preparing vegetables, she hopped up on the other counter watching hum curiously.

“How did you learn to cook?”

“I told you that my dad died.” His knife paused over a red pepper. “Mom… she couldn’t handle it. She started drinking.”

She didn’t say anything, but he felt her presence, warm and steady, and the silence encouraged him to continue.

“I got pretty good at covering for her.” He resumed chopping, the rhythmic sound filling the kitchen. “I made excuses when she missed work. Cleaned up empty bottles. I learned to cook because she needed to eat.”

The vegetables sizzled as he added them to the pan.

“She hid it pretty well from everyone else. But inside…” He cracked eggs into a bowl, whisking them with more force than necessary. “Inside she was falling apart.”

His hands stilled over the bowl. “She died in a car crash when I was seventeen. A single vehicle, late at night. I’ve always wondered if she did it on purpose.”

He poured the eggs into the pan, watching them start to set. “I never told anyone that before.”

The confession hung in the air between them, heavier than he’d expected. He’d carried those thoughts alone for so long, they felt strange spoken aloud.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

He tried to focus on the task rather than her closeness but her scent made his head spin.

His grip tightened on the wooden spoon. “Been thinking about you.”

The confession slipped out before he could stop it and the tips of his ear burned.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.”

He turned to look at her. The kitchen lights caught the gold in her hair and the warmth in her eyes. He put down the spatula and crossed over to her. Her knees parted automatically to make room for him, and she looked up at him, her pretty lips parted.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” he said roughly and her breath caught.

“Us,” she repeated, as if testing the word. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” He bent his head, brushing his lips across hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She arched up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest, making his cock throb.

He deepened the kiss, tracing her lower lip with his tongue until she parted her lips and let him in. Her tongue met his, teasing and exploring. Heat flooded him as she moaned, pressing herself against him, and his hands slid down to cup her perfect ass and hold her there. He could stay here all day, all week, exploring her mouth and her body, drinking in her scent and the taste of her. Nothing existed beyond this moment, beyond her.

Smoke tickled his nose, and he broke away with a curse, lunging for the stove. The omelet had gone from golden brown to charred black.

“Fuck. Not again.”

He switched off the burner, moving the smoking pan to a cool element, and heard a muffled sound. He turned to find her with her hand over her mouth, her eyes bright and her shoulders shaking with laughter. A reluctant grin tugged at his lips.

She lowered her hand, eyes sparkling. “We really suck at this whole cooking dinner thing, huh?”

“I had other things on my mind.”

“Like what?” she asked, her voice husky.

“Like this.”

He moved back between her thighs, sliding his thumb across her lower lip. Her lips parted, her pink tongue darting out to taste his skin. He groaned, capturing her mouth with his. She kissed him back eagerly, fingers tangling in his hair. Her tongue stroked his, teasing and coaxing.

He slid his hand down her back, tracing the curve of her spine. Her skin was silky soft under her pajamas, and he wanted to feel more. He tugged her top up, revealing her luscious breasts, her nipples already flushed dark pink.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he blurted out.

“Are you objecting?”

“Fuck no,” he growled, bending to take one nipple in his mouth. She gasped, hips bucking, and the movement pressed her core against his throbbing cock.

He licked and sucked, teasing the stiff little peak while she writhed in his arms. His other hand cupped her neglected breast, thumb circling the nipple, and she moaned, fingers digging into his scalp, urging him on.

He released her breast and turned his attention to the other nipple. This time, he scraped his teeth across the sensitive flesh, and she cried out, her back arching. He switched back and forth, lavishing attention on each nipple until she was panting, her body trembling in his embrace.

He lifted his head, admiring her flushed skin and dazed expression. She blinked up at him, lips swollen and red, and the sight made him want to roar in triumph.

“More,” she whispered.

His cock pulsed, but he ignored the ache. “Not until you’re ready.”

She reached for his belt. “I’m definitely ready.”

He caught her hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing her fingers. “Let me take care of you.”

She shivered at the promise in his words and he nudged the edge of her pajama pants. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes,” she breathed, lifting her hips.

He tugged them down slowly, revealing her creamy skin. The scent of her arousal hit him and his cock strained against his jeans. He ignored it, focusing on the sight of her spread open before him like a feast. Her pretty little cunt glistened with moisture. Fuck, he wanted to taste her.

He kneeled in front of her, spreading her open with his thumbs. The sight of her slick, swollen flesh made him groan, the scent of her arousal making his head spin. He wanted to devour her, to make her come apart beneath him, but he forced himself to start slow, trailing kisses up her inner thigh.

She whined in protest, wiggling closer, and he circled her clit with his tongue, teasing the sensitive flesh, before dragging his tongue through her wetness. Her hips bucked, and he wrapped his arms around her thighs to hold her still. He started slowly, licking and sucking until she was panting, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

He traced her entrance with his tongue, circling but not entering, and she gasped, hips straining towards him. He kept up the slow pace, exploring every inch of her, tasting her sweetness, until he felt her thighs start to tremble.

He pulled away, and she made a small noise of protest.

“Varek, please-”

He slid two fingers inside her, curling them to stroke her inner walls, and she moaned. He bent his head to flick her clit with his tongue. Her tight little cunt gripped his fingers, pulsing as he sucked her clit into his mouth. He thrust his fingers deeper, finding a rhythm that had her hips rocking, chasing her pleasure, and he growled against her flesh.

Her thighs tightened around his shoulders, and he felt her body tensing, preparing for release. He picked up the pace, driving her closer to the edge until she cried out, her body shuddering as she came hard, flooding his mouth with her sweet juices. He licked and sucked every drop, drawing out her pleasure until she collapsed against him, boneless and sated.