Page 10 of Marked by the Scarred Orc (Heat & Ink #6)

Chapter Seven

Corinne

T his orc is so hawt, I’m literally ready for sex with him right this moment.

My nipples are tight, that space between my thighs is wet and ready and I’d love to make out with him again. I love the light scrape of his tusks against my lips and my neck.

I’ve been having a great time chatting with Harken and watching while he cooked dinner for us. Watching him chop and season the meat and make us a side dish of rice was pretty darn spectacular. I could get used to this.

And I like talking with him too. He’s easy to get along with and the conversation flows naturally between us.

And most importantly, Sterling likes him.

At first, I was a little freaked out that he lived in a mansion and is obviously a millionaire.

There’s a safe in his basement which probably holds a treasure trove of gold and jewels.

Amazing. And now this makes me wonder if all the orcs I know are secretly rich too but walk around living normal-looking middle-class lives because they aren’t into consumerism like humans are.

I only met this edgy orc with the jutting tusks and covered in tribal tattoos two days ago, but we’ve already spent so much time together.

The orc ale loosened my tongue and I shared more with him about my childhood than any other guy I’ve ever dated.

And he seemed much more interested in my stories too.

I’m entertaining crazy thoughts of moving into this huge mansion and trying to make it a home for us and Sterling.

I lick my lips. I’m having a mini orgasm just thinking about this orc touching my clit. I have a feeling those rough hands are going to feel better than anything I’ve felt before, including my expensive sex toys.

Thank god I chose to wear a dress tonight instead of jeans.

I also had the foresight to carefully shave and moisturize all my girly parts and my legs too.

And I’m wearing my nicest underwear. The soft fabric of my blue wrap dress is already riding up my thighs from being positioned on this counter, and the easy access makes everything so much simpler.

I don’t have to worry about awkwardly shimming out of tight pants while trying to look sexy.

“You’re thinking very hard about something,” Harken observes, his hands still resting on my bare thighs.

“I’m thinking about how good this is going to feel,” I admit breathlessly as I widen my legs.

His eyes darken and his grip tightens. “It’s going to feel very good.

I promise you that. I might not have any experience, but I’ve done a lot of studying on this matter in the past, readying myself for the day I would potentially meet my bride.

” His hands slide higher, bunching my dress around my waist, and I gasp when his fingers find the edge of my lace panties.

The look in his eyes is pure predator as he hooks his fingers around the delicate fabric. “These need to go,” he growls.

Before I can respond, he tears them off my body with one sharp tug. The sound of ripping lace makes me whimper because I liked those panties and they weren’t cheap. I watch in horror as he tosses the ruined underwear over his shoulder like it’s nothing. “Those were expensive,” I say weakly.

“I’ll buy you new ones. Better ones. Or maybe I can talk you into remaining naked.”

The possessive edge to his voice causes butterflies to swoop across my belly. I’m completely exposed to him now, sitting on his granite countertop with my dress bunched around my waist and nothing between his gaze and my soaking wet pussy.

“You’re beautiful,” he says reverently, his hands spreading my thighs wider. “Perfect.”

I want to protest, to tell him I’m not perfect, that I have cellulite and all the normal human flaws. But the way he’s looking at me, as if I’m a goddess rising from the lake to hand him a sword, makes the words die in my throat.

His thumbs trace along my inner thighs, so close to where I need him but not quite touching. The anticipation is killing me. “Harken, please.”

“Please what?” His voice is rough with desire.

“Touch me. I need you to touch me. You said you would…”

He grins. “Where do you need me to touch you?”

The question makes me flush with embarrassment. I’ve never had to vocalize what I wanted like this before. My previous boyfriends never asked, never made me participate in my own seduction. “My…between my legs. Please.”

“Here?” His thumb brushes against my outer lips, barely a whisper of contact.

“Yes, but higher. On my clit.”

“Show me.”

My face burns, but I reach down and guide his hand to where I need him most. The moment his calloused thumb makes contact, I cry out in desperation. “Right there,” I gasp. “That’s perfect.”

He begins to stroke me in slow, deliberate circles, watching my face intently as he learns what I like the most. His touch is confident but gentle, and it’s clear he’s paying attention to every single one of my reactions.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs appreciatively. “So ready for me.”

I can’t form words anymore. The sensations are too intense, too overwhelming. This feels nothing like my own touch or my toys. There’s something about his hands, his scent, his large, powerful presence that amplifies everything a hundredfold.

Just when I think I can’t take any more teasing, he drops to his knees in front of me. The sight of this enormous orc with his wide shoulders kneeling between my legs, his horns and scarred face level with my pussy, is almost enough to send me over the edge right there.

“I need to taste you,” he says, and it’s not a request. His mouth is on me before I can respond, his tongue replacing his thumb on my clit. I scream—actually scream—at the sensation. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

He licks me like he’s starving, like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

It’s his job and I’m his favorite employee.

He seems to know exactly what I need and keeps his tongue where it feels best. He alternates between precise flicks, gentle sucking and firm pressure. This orc is a magician.

My hands fly to his horns, gripping them tightly as I try to anchor myself against the overwhelming pleasure. I can’t help but squirm, trying to push my hips closer to his face. “Yes, just like that,” I cry out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He growls against me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. I can feel the scary-wonderful level of pleasure building toward something explosive.

His hands grip my thighs, holding me open for his mouth, and I can feel his tusks brushing against my sensitive skin.

It should be intimidating, but instead it’s unbearably erotic.

This dangerous, powerful male is using his mouth to worship me, to bring me pleasure. “Harken, I’m going to—I’m going to?—”

The orgasm hits me hard. My entire body convulses as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. I’m vaguely aware that I’m screaming his name, that my grip on his horns has probably become painful, but I can’t control any of it.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing out every last tremor until I’m boneless and gasping on his counter.

Just as I’m coming down from the incredible high, there’s a loud crash from somewhere behind me.

Both Harken and I freeze, our heads snapping toward the sound. Sterling sits innocently on the counter, his tail swishing as he surveys the ceramic bowl now shattered on the floor.

“Sterling!” I gasp, mortified that my cat saw what just happened and also broke something.

Harken stands up and uses the back of his green hand to wipe my juices from his face. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest as he helps steady me on the counter. “I think someone was feeling left out.”

Sterling begins grooming his paw with complete disinterest, as if he hadn’t just interrupted the most intense sexual experience of my life.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’m apologizing to Harken or to Sterling. “He’s never done anything like that before.”

“It’s fine,” Harken says. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

I blink at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He gestures towards his obscenely tented erection. “I don’t want our first time to happen because we got carried away in the kitchen.”

I bite my lip. “You don’t?”

He gently helps me down from the counter. “No. When I make love to you and plant my seed in your womb, I want you in my bed. But I also need to know that it’s what you want too.”

I smile up at him. “Um, I think you know it’s what I want too.”

“There’s more for you to think about, Corinne. Again, orcs are different than human men. I can’t date or do one-night stands. If I take you in my bed, I’ll be planting my orc son in you, and I will want forever. You have to decide if this is what you want too, ahead of time.”

I tilt my head. “You want children, right now?”

“If we have sex, you will become pregnant. And if you choose to stay with me you will never have daughters, only orc sons that look very much like my family line.”

“I know about all of this,” I remind him, “because of Kavin and Mia. I knew what I was getting myself into when I came down here to visit.”

He steps close and takes me in his arms. “Are you staying overnight or are you going back to your apartment so you can think about this more?”

Two days ago, I was furious with this orc.

I felt violated and angry and completely convinced that he was nothing more than a primitive brute who’d marked me without permission.

Exactly the type of orc I’d been afraid of and wanted nothing to do with.

I enjoyed meeting and hanging out or working with the mated orcs I’d met through Kavin, but I was wary of all the unmated ones because I was troubled that one of them might decide they wanted me, and the problem would be that I didn’t feel the same.

I was ready to press charges, to make Harken pay for what he’d done to me.

Now, watching his gentleness after my troublemaking cat broke a bowl, I can barely remember that anger.

It feels like it happened to someone else, some other version of me who didn’t understand what it meant to be claimed by an orc.

The mark on my ass isn’t a violation anymore.

It’s a declaration. A promise. The beginning of a story I’ll probably laugh about someday.

“Can you imagine?” I’ll say to friends at dinner parties years from now.

“I was so drunk I asked for a cat tattoo, and he gave me his claiming mark instead. I was furious and stormed out. And now look at us.”

The thought makes me smile. Maybe I’m even falling in love with him?

The realization should scare me. It should send me running back to my little apartment with Sterling in tow.

But instead, it fills me with a warm certainty that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

In this too-big mansion with this scarred, gentle orc who cooks me dinner and makes me come harder than I ever thought possible and looks at my cat like Sterling is the most important creature in the world.

“I’m going to clean up the mess my cat made,” I say, “and then I’m going to grab my overnight bag and Sterling’s food and paraphernalia from my car. And after all of that I’m hoping I’ll get to sleep next to you in your big bed tonight.”

He leans down and kisses me softly, and I can taste myself on his lips. It should be weird, but instead it feels intimate and right.