Page 5 of How the Orc Stole Christmas

JULES

I noted a few of the orcs were unhappy that I chose Klas’s tree but I didn’t care.

He told me to choose someone, and I did.

I couldn’t help it if he didn’t want me.

I just had to convince him that I was the perfect mate for him.

I couldn’t do that if he kept running away every time he was near me.

I hope time in my hut would help him get over whatever issues he had.

Olivia had encouraged me in this, as did a couple other orc mates.

Kharag only shook his head and said he hopes Klas wasn’t too stubborn.

We had assigned some of the teams to gather berries, nuts, branches and anything else that could be used as decorations.

It wasn’t like we could run out to Target or Walmart and buy some lights, pretty balls, or ornaments.

We were in the middle of who knows where, and I hadn’t seen a store at all.

Apparently there was a town nearby, but box stores were not something they had.

And, since Christmas was unknown here, there’s no way I’d find what I needed. So, we would have to make things.

Once I described some ideas I had, wishing I had paid more attention to the all-natural look that was becoming so popular on the design blogs back home, the women jumped on it, adding their own thoughts and ideas, providing direction to the males who would forage for our supplies.

They had nixed the idea of women going with them, saying we were too vulnerable as targets for the king’s army, who were always looking for women to kidnap.

I was enjoying being a part of something for once.

Sure, in the ER, I was part of a team providing care, but I always felt apart from everyone, not included.

As I grew closer to some of the women, I wondered if that was my fault, that maybe I kept everyone at arm's length to not get hurt. I had a second chance here to have a new life. I had to make the most of it, create the life I wanted, because going back wasn’t an option.

I gathered up some of the berries, pinecone sort of things, acorn type items, and branches, and headed for my hut.

I honestly expected Klas to duck out, but he took the items from me and stalked next to me, stiff and silent, but he was there.

That was the key. I smothered my almost giddy smile at the thought of finally being alone with him.

When we got inside, we spread our bounty on the table and i studied it, trying to decide the best approach.

Klas brought the tree inside and set it up in the corner of the room, fiddling with it to get it just right.

He was bent over at just the right angle for me to see the flexing of his truly magnificent ass.

Sure, all the orcs in the village were muscular and handsome in their own way, but only of them got my engine revving.

Klas’s pants, that ended just past his knees, hugged his tree-trunk sized thighs that flexed every time he squatted or rose to move the tree.

I never understood the phrase could crack a walnut with his ass until I saw Klas.

Damn, that was a strong and beefy butt. And his mostly bare arms and chest were corded with muscle.

He dominated the males in the village, the true alpha male, and every part of me softened for him.

My heart raced just a bit when he looked at me.

My blood heated, and I could actually feel my pussy throb when he gave me one of his intense stares.

I would probably combust if we ever hooked up.

His kiss almost killed me and I replayed it constantly, leading to one of my first ever sex dreams. Now I wanted the real thing.

“Is this acceptable, Jules?”

Oh, hell yes, it was. In every way.

He cocked an eyebrow at me and I realized I’d spoken out loud. My face heated, and I stammered, “It’s perfect, Klas. Thank you.”

Down girl, I told my hormones. Play it cool or he’ll run for the hills.

“Let’s figure out how to decorate it.”

I began playing with the assortment of items, thanking the good lord that I had been a camp counselor, rocking the craft’s table there. Klas joined me, frowning at my efforts.

“I don’t understand the point of bringing a tree inside or putting things on it.”

I set the string of red berries down. The women had sat around the fire that afternoon and strung what reminded us of cranberries while we waited for the orcs to return with other items. I loved this and couldn’t wait to add it to the tree.

“It brings joy and happiness. It brightens the room.”

He frowned even harder, if that was possible. “Then add more candles if you need brightness. A tree doesn’t light.”

I laughed. “Not that kind of bright.” I decided on a different angle, having been educated on the state of politics and the horrible asshole orc king who wanted to claim all the women for himself and keep the throne.

“Think of it this way. Everyone is really tense and nervous about what’s going on.

They’re worried about attacks and death.

It’s also winter, with short days and longer nights.

It’s a harder time. Having a celebration gives everyone a break from that, gives them a chance to celebrate life. ”

“But that’s not reality. Reality is that we must always be prepared for attack.”

“Why can’t we do both? Does life have to always been this endless battle for survival with no joy?”

He didn’t say anything else and watched me twist some branches around to create a wreath. Then I handed me the other end of the stringed berries. “Help me arrange this on the tree.”

He held his end while I stretched to reach the top. My foot slipped, and I started to fall into the tree. He grabbed me, pulling me into his firm chest, my back to his front. I turned my head to look up at him, but his expression was unreadable.

He set me back on my feet and took the string. “I’m taller. I’ll do it.”

I nodded and pointed to how I wanted it done. Eventually, the tree was decorated the best I could, with assorted items dotting the limbs. It was pretty, with firelight dancing on the needles and off the colors of the berries.

“Would you like some tea?” I hadn’t quite mastered the fire yet, but was getting better. I could heat water and make some basic items to feed myself in the morning.

I held my breath, expecting him to leave as soon as he could, but he only nodded and sat at my table, his large size dwarfing the chairs. I began babbling about my life since joining the clan. It was easier than letting silence fill the air. He sat patiently as I worked.

I set some biscuits on the table and poured the tea. “Olivia helped me make these today. I’m still learning, so be patient.”

He took a bite of the biscuit, froze for a moment, then continued chewing. He took a sip of the tea, coughed and swallowed, hard. “It’s good.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Really?”

I sipped my tea and gagged. “Oh my god. That’s horrible. What did I do wrong?”

I peered into the tin of leaves and Klas took them from me. His expression solemn. “These aren’t leaves for tea, but for cooking stew.”

“No wonder they taste like ass,” I muttered. “I dread to think what the biscuits are like.”

He gamely took another bite while I poured some plain water this time. “They’re good.”

Something wasn’t right. I took a bite of the biscuit and I swear they absorbed every single bit of moisture in my mouth. “Stop eating them. They’re terrible.”

I buried my head in my hands. “No wonder no one wants me to help with the cooking. I’m hopeless. I mean, give me a microwave and a Lean Cuisine and I’m good. But this whole over the fire thing and I’m screwed.”

He awkwardly patted my back. “But you have other talents. You bring joy where you go and You’re helping the healer with the women.”

I sniffed. “That’s not much.”

“It is to them. Our healer doesn’t know much about humans, so it was scary for the women about to give birth. They feel better with you here. And I have heard more laughter since you have been here than we have had in many months.”

“You don’t like laughter. It doesn’t help prepare for attack,” I replied bitterly.

“Maybe not everything needs to be about attack,” he said.

I lifted my head. “Really?”

He was so close, had shifted his chair so he was right next to me, his face only inches from mine. It took nothing for him to close the space and kiss me, the feel of his lips against mine sending shockwaves through my body. I moaned and leaned into him, opening my mouth, begging for more.

Sinteklas

T he tea and biscuits were truly awful. I tried to choke them down but even military rations were better than these.

I didn’t have the heart to tell Jules because she tried so hard and was so eager to please me.

When she got upset at the realization that they were terrible, I comforted her the only way I knew how.

I kissed her.

Though, in my defense, I had been wanting to touch her for most of the evening.

As we decorating the tree, she kept brushing against me with her hands, her body, and my cock was clamoring for me to make a claim on her.

I had been resisting admitting the truth to myself—that she was my mate—because others were far better suited.

Younger, less grumpy, and less apt to dim her light.

Yet I could not imagine a life without her in it.

I wanted to wake up with her beside me, have her spread out in my bed as I drove deeply inside of her, watched her grow rounded with my orcling.

I wanted her to choose me.

The moment my lips touched hers, everything else fell away.

The taste of the burnt tea, or stew herbs, vanished, replaced by her sweetness.

She made a soft sound of surprise that turned into a moan, and the mating instinct inside of me roared to life.

My hands found her waist, pulling her closer as she melted against me.

The scent of pine needles from the tree mingled with her natural fragrance, making my head spin.

When her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently, I growled against her mouth.

She wasn't afraid—she never had been. Instead, she pressed closer, her soft curves fitting perfectly against my harder planes.

“Jules,” I breathed against her lips, breaking away just enough to look at her. The firelight caught the gold flecks in her eyes, and the sight of her flushed cheeks and parted lips nearly undid me. “Tell me to stop.”

“Don't you dare,” she whispered, twisting in her chair to get closer to me.

That was all the permission I needed. I lifted her easily, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, making me groan as her heat pressed against me. The decorated tree rattled as I carried her past it to the bed, laying her down with more gentleness than I knew I possessed.

She looked up at me with such trust, such desire, that my chest ached.

Her hair spread across the pillow, and when she reached for me, I couldn't resist. I covered her body with mine, careful to keep most of my weight on my forearms. The sound she made when I pressed against her center nearly broke my control.

"You're sure?" I asked, even as my hands slid under her shirt, finding the soft skin of her stomach. She arched into my touch.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she said, and then she was pulling at my clothes, her smaller hands exploring every inch of skin she exposed.

I took my time undressing her, memorizing each new revelation of flesh.

The curve of her breasts fit perfectly in my palms, and when I lowered my mouth to taste her skin, she cried out my name.

Her nipples peaked under my tongue, and I lavished attention on each one until she was writhing beneath me.

The sight of her, bare and wanting in my arms, struck me with such force that I had to pause. This wasn't just desire—this was everything I'd been fighting against, everything I thought I didn't deserve. She must have seen something in my expression, because she cupped my face in her hands.

“Stop thinking so hard,” she whispered, pressing soft kisses to my jaw, my cheeks, avoiding my tusks as naturally as breathing. “I want this. I want you.”

Those words broke the last of my restraint.

I kissed her deeply as my hand slid between her thighs, finding her already wet and ready.

The first touch of my fingers made her gasp and push against my hand.

I worked her slowly, learning what made her moan, what made her dig her nails into my shoulders.

I made her come quickly, my thumb working her nub at the apex of her slit and my fingers plunging deep inside until I could feel her clenching around me.

I worked her, keeping her crying out and writhing on the bed until she lay limp and boneless beneath me. I tugged my fingers free, licking every bit of cream from them. She watched me with wide eyes and I winked.

“Delicious. Next time, I’ll be between your thighs for a longer taste.” She blushed a deep red, and I kissed her, my tongue sweeping in her mouth, mimicking the act we were about to do.

I slipped my fingers down, teasing her again but not letting her come. When she was trembling on the edge, I positioned myself at her entrance. The head of my cock pressed against her, and I forced myself to go slow, to be gentle. Her eyes were wide, almost scared.

“Holy shit, Klas. I don’t think this will work,” she gasped, her fingernails biting into my shoulders.

“It works just fine for everyone else. We’ll go slow.”

She arched in my arms, my cock sinking a little deeper with every movement. “I don’t know if I’m built that way.”

“You’re perfect,” I vowed.

She was so tight, so perfect around me that I had to grit my teeth against the urge to thrust deep. Slowly, I slid all the way, letting her adjust to me. When her hips shifted restlessly below mine, I knew she was ready for more.

“Please,” she begged, and I moved.

The sight of her taking all of me, accepting me completely, was almost too much. I established a steady rhythm, watching her face for any sign of discomfort, but there was only pleasure. Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I lost myself in the feeling of her.

When she started to tighten around me, her breath coming in short gasps, I reached between us to touch her again. She came apart with my name on her lips, her inner walls clenching around me, and I followed her over the edge with a roar that she muffled with her kiss.

Afterward, as we lay tangled in the sheets with the fire casting shadows on the wall, I held her close and knew with absolute certainty that I would never let her go. She was my mate, my perfect match, and I had been a fool to fight it for so long.

She nuzzled against my chest, already half asleep, and murmured, “The biscuits really were terrible, weren't they?”

I laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Yes, but I wouldn't change a thing about this night.”