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

“For what I called you last night. The scarred freak comment.” She looks down at her hands. “That was cruel and uncalled for. I was drunk and scared and angry, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Something loosens in my chest. “Thank you.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your scar,” she continues quietly. “I was just trying to hurt you because you’d hurt me.”

“I know,” I say. “And I’m sorry too. For marking you without your consent.

I know it was wrong by human standards. I lost my mind, knowing a female as worthy as you wanted me in return.

Your arousal was heady and because of our audience, marking you seemed more insistent than it probably would have been under normal standards. ”

She looks up at me, those blue eyes searching. “But not by orc standards?”

“No. By orc standards, I did exactly what I was supposed to do when I found my mate.”

“And that’s what you think I am? Your mate?”

I lean forward slightly, breathing in her scent. Even now, even angry and confused, she smells like arousal and sweaty encounters on white sheets. “I don’t think it, Corinne. I know it. Your body calls to mine in ways I’ve never experienced.”

“That’s just attraction. Physical chemistry.”

“Is it?” I challenge. “When I scented you last night, everything changed. I’ve never wanted to claim a female before. I’ve never felt the urge to mark and possess and protect. But with you…”

“With me, what?”

I stand up, needing to move, needing to be closer to her.

I move to the chair next to hers, close enough that our knees almost touch.

“With you, I want everything,” I say, my voice rough with honesty.

“I want to take you to my home and wake up every morning with your scent in my lungs. I want to fill you with my seed until you carry my son. I want to fall asleep every night with your body pressed against mine.”

Her breath catches, and I can scent her arousal spiking. “That’s very…intense.”

“Orc mating isn’t casual, Corinne. We don’t date. When we find our mate, that’s it. Forever.”

“But humans like to date and take a while to decide if someone is husband material. If we were meeting under normal circumstances, we might’ve followed each other on social media and then started messaging each other until it built into something more real.

But instead, you put a permanent mark on my ass that says we’re together forever.

That’s a huge leap forward in my human dating timeline.

I don’t even really know you. We met twelve hours ago. ”

“Time doesn’t matter when biology is involved. Your body knows mine. Mine recognizes yours.”

She shifts in her chair, and I catch a glimpse of uncertainty beneath her defiance. “What if I can’t give you what you want? What if I can’t be what you need?”

“You already are what I need.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

I reach out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and take her hand in mine.

Her skin is soft and warm, and I can feel her pulse under my thumb.

“Because when I see you holding a baby, every primitive instinct I have screams “mate.” Because even now, when you’re angry with me, you still smell amazing.

Because your body responds to my touch whether your mind wants it to or not. ”

“Just because my body betrays me and wants you…” she says and shifts in her seat. “That doesn’t mean we’re compatible long-term.”

“Doesn’t it?” I stroke my thumb across her knuckles, watching as her breath catches. “Tell me you don’t feel the pull between us. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about how I touched your bare skin last night.”

“I…” she starts, then stops, biting her lip.

“Tell me you don’t wonder what it would be like if I kissed you properly instead of just licking you to heal your mark.”

I can scent that arousal again. “Harken…”

“Tell me you don’t want to know how my hands would feel on your skin when you’re sober and willing.”

“Stop,” she whispers, but there’s no real protest in it.

“Why? Because you can’t deny it?”

She looks down at our joined hands, then back up at my face. “Because it scares me.”

“What scares you?”

“How much I want it,” she admits quietly.

“How much I want you, despite everything. Despite the fact that you marked me without permission. Despite the fact that we barely know each other. Despite the fact that I told myself I’d never mate with an orc because they have a history of kidnaping women off the street. ”

Relief floods through me at her honesty. “I would never kidnap you, Corinne. I am here, at your family’s domicile, hoping to see you again, and I did. We started fast, but we can take the rest of this slow. And I believe it means something that you stumbled into my shop last night. It’s fate.”

“I don’t believe in fate.”

“Then what do you call this?” I gesture between us. “What do you call the fact that you ended up in my shop, out of all the places you could have gone last night? What do you call the fact that your sister is married to one of my closest friends?”

She considers this, her analytical mind working. “Coincidence?”

“I call it destiny.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the sexual tension thick between us. Inside, I can hear Kavin and Mia’s voices have quieted, probably listening for sounds of violence from the patio.

“What happens now?” Corinne asks eventually.

“That depends on you.”

“What do you mean?”

I release her hand and lean back slightly, giving her space to think. “I’ve already claimed you with my mark. But how we move forward from here is your choice.”

“My choice?”

“The pace, the timing, the level of intimacy—all of it. I know where I want this to end, Corinne. But how we get there is entirely up to you.”

She tilts her head, studying me. “And where does it end?”

“With you in my bed, carrying my child, wearing my ring if you want the human ceremony. With you as my mate in every way that matters.”

“You’re very confident.”

“I’m very certain. There’s a difference.”

She stands up and walks over to the fire pit, running her fingers along the stone edge. I watch the way her yoga pants hug her curves, the way her hair catches in the sunlight.

“I’m not ready for forever,” she says without turning around. “You don’t even know me. You think now that you like me, but we’ve never lived together and I might drive you crazy and you’ll think, why did I decide to tie myself to this woman and her crazy sister? ”

I chuckle. “I already have seen what I’m up against and none of it scares me away. Instead, I like the fact that the both of you are loyal fighters.”

She crooks an eyebrow. “Well, the fact remains that I’m not ready to be claimed and possessed and kept.”

I let out a deep sigh. “No one is going to keep you anywhere. You will lead your normal life, Corinne.”

“So what are you proposing?”

“That we find out what this is. That we explore the connection between us.”

“Like dating?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and I can see her weighing options, calculating risks. Finally, she nods. “Okay. But if we’re going to figure this out, we do it like we’re in modern times.”

“Agreed.”

“And if I say I want out, and I want to get this tattoo removed and move on with my life without you because we’re not right for each other…you let me go.”

That one’s harder to agree to, but I nod anyway. “Agreed.”

She pushes off from the fire pit and walks toward me, stopping just out of reach. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“I need to know if this is real. If what I’m feeling is genuine attraction or just some kind of whacked out pheromones making me think I want you.”

“How do you propose we figure that out?”

She takes a step closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her body. “I think we need to test it.”

My lips twitch. “Test it how?”

Her eyes drop to my lips, then back up to meet my gaze. “Kiss me.”

My heart pounds against my ribs. “Corinne...”

“Not some healing lick or accidental brush of lips. A real kiss. So I can know if this is real or just biology playing tricks on me.”

I stand slowly, towering over her small frame. “Are you sure?”

She lifts her chin so her gaze meets mine. “I need to know,” she says firmly. “I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

I step close enough that she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. Close enough that I can see a fleck of green in her blue eyes. “One kiss,” I say.

She places both of her bare palms against my chest. “One kiss,” she agrees.

I reach up slowly, giving her every chance to change her mind, and cup her face in my hands. Her skin is impossibly soft under my rough fingers. “But first,” I say, my thumb stroking across her cheek. “I need your consent.”