Page 28 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

Chapter

Eighteen

brOVDIR

H e was really out of his depth here.

He went over to the sink at the end of the storage cabinets near the woodstove, grabbing a thin towel from a wall hook as he went. He cleaned himself up with practiced efficiency, and changed into a clean pair of slacks, but every rustle and splash from behind the bathroom door drew his attention.

When would she come out? She was going to be dressed in his shirt. The vision of her dressed in it, her curves gently highlighted by the thin layers of cotton fabric, the short length that would give generous glimpses of her round thighs...

The lush vanilla smell of her would cover the shirt. He may never wash it again.

Fades help him . Was that her sigh just now?

He shook his head in frustration. He’d had plenty of women stay the night with him before.

Almost twenty. He had a set procedure for every step.

If they cowered, he’d sit down and keep still.

If they threatened, he’d show his hands and stay out of striking distance.

If they cried, he’d turn away to give them privacy.

If they were quiet, he’d count himself lucky and go about his business until it was time to take them back to their home.

He didn’t know what to do with this woman. A woman who wasn’t afraid in the least. A woman who was used to the presence of orcs.

A woman who sought his comfort when she was in tears instead of scrambling for escape.

He was a wretch for wishing she would cry again just so he’d have an excuse to hold her. Next time, he wouldn’t hold back. He’d take her in his arms and cradle her to his chest and... and...

He wanted her so badly. The imprint in his chest was blooming, and he wasn’t sure he could stop it.

With a deep sigh and a rub to the center of his chest where the thrumming was beating a soothing rhythm, Brovdir went to his bed.

It sat at the far corner of the room and was the newest thing in here, since he’d had to replace it before his first night.

The mattress was plush, the blankets were warm, and the pillows were clean.

Though sometimes, when night crept in and his body sunk down into the wool-stuffed fabric, he missed being out in the woods with the laughter of his brethren a few feet away.

Escape from his shelter was as quick as a slice of his claw.

The sounds and smells around him were clear and unmuted by thick wood walls.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was, in fact, perfectly safe here.

Humans weren’t trying to slaughter him in his sleep.

Blighted animals weren’t raging in the darkness beyond the windows.

Deadly, spiraling wind storms weren’t appearing from nowhere and swallowing up everything in their path.

But the sinkholes were.

Blast! He’d gotten so caught up with Trinia he’d forgotten Sythcol’s order to call the warriors and conjurers to him.

Brovdir went to his desk at the corner of the room and pulled up the top.

The wooden slats rolled to the back. He’d marveled for a long time at the craftsmanship when he’d first seen it, especially when he’d been told magic wasn’t at play.

Humans had made this wooden marvel.

It took no time for him to write the messages and call the birds to deliver them.

Karthoc’s warriors had no fewer than a hundred trained robins and sparrows that followed them during their travels.

And the messenger birds in the Rove Woods were all enchanted, so all one had to do was murmur the name of the recipient and it was as good as delivered.

He’d just sent out the final bird and closed the window when a crash sounded from the bathroom. A tremendous splash as water gushed under the door.

Trinia let out a cry.

Panic seized him and he bolted for the door. Had a sinkhole opened under his tree? Was she drowning? He slammed his whole weight into the door.

He really should have anticipated how flimsy the wood was compared to his brute strength. It shattered on impact, splintering into a million tiny pieces and he landed on the sopping wet floor.

“Trinia!” He tried to rise as he searched for her, but the ground was slick from spilled soap bottles.

“W-what are you doing?”

Ah, fuck.

Trinia was huddled in the tub, perfectly fine.

And very naked.

His blood ran so hot he could feel it pulsing behind his eyes.

“B-Brovdir, what— Biscuits and jam! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—I can’t get the water to stop.”

He shakily tried to rise to his feet. He reckoned that nearly all the soap tinctures he’d had lined up on the edge of the tub had fallen. The floor was as slick as ice.

The water was still spewing and flowing over the edge. He managed to his feet and went to the tub.

His eyes simply would not obey him and kept sliding over to catch a glimpse of Trinia. She was huddled in a little ball, bare legs crossed, knees to chest, arms covering as much of her as she could.

Fuck, he was an absolute wretch for peeping in on her. He went back and snatched up the towel from the counter and handed it to her, even as every part of him was longing for a better look.

“Th-thank you.” Her voice was still warbly and panicked. He quickly reached up and snapped the spout closed. She began wrapping herself up and he wondered if she would think him odd for weeping at the loss.

“I’m so sorry!” Trinia said. “Savili said her spout stops on its own, and when yours didn’t, I panicked. I thought I’d be able to reach if I got on the edge of the tub, but I lost my balance and fell and?—”

“You fell?” He searched what little of her he could see. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. I just fell into the water and made it slosh over the edge and it took the soap with it. I’m so sorry. I’ll find a way to replace them!” She looked far too concerned for his liking.

“It’s fine.” He didn’t give a shit about the soap. “They aren’t mine.”

“The . . . soap in your bathroom isn’t yours ?”

“Belongs to the warriors. Still in tents. I let them bathe here.” He started to step back, but the floor was incredibly slick and he went still to keep from sliding.

She nodded. “Oh, that makes more sense then. I wondered why you had so many. For a moment, I thought you might have a very specific routine, but none of the soap smelled half as good as you do so?—”

She stopped talking as his brows rose. She liked how he smelled?

Her cheeks went a delightful pink and her gaze fell away from him. “N-never mind. Thank you for helping. I’m so sorry about the floor. I’ll get it cleaned up... somehow.”

“I will.” He turned to go to his trunk for another towel.

And his feet slipped right out from under him.

He hit the floor hard, but it paled in comparison to hearing Trinia yelp with shock.

“A-are you all right?” There was more splashing as she started to get out.

“Fine. Don’t. The wood is slick!”

But it was too late. She was already hurrying over to him, and he tried to get up, only to slip forward again.

Just as she slipped.

His arm snapped out to catch her. He nearly pulled every muscle twisting around.

But it was worth it because she landed snuggly in his arms.

With her ass right on top of his groin.

Blast his miserable hide back to the depths. She felt so good . All curvy and soft and warm. His cock hardened in an instant and his heart thundered as Trinia’s eyes grew wide.

She started to get off him.

“Wait!” He gripped her thigh to stop her and she hiccuped in response, so he quickly let her go. “You might—the wood, it—let me get you!”

“Get me where ?” Her voice was a squeak of shock and she squirmed against him as if trying to get away, but it felt so good . He was an absolute beast.

“That isn’t what I—fuck—” He scooped her up under her knees and started to get up off the floor.

Only to slip again and pitch forward.

She yelped, and he barely managed to cushion her fall.

But now he was caged directly over her, with a knee between her thighs and her wrist pinned in his hand and her blasted towel had fallen down and her perfect breasts were almost completely visible, and his wretched eyes would simply not obey his command to look away from her.

She was panting under him, cheeks red, lips parted, eyes so huge he felt like she was swallowing him up.

Her leg shifted as she bent her knee. He could feel it grazing along his thigh all the way up, up... what was she doing? Why was she?—

Her knee grazed against his throbbing cock and his lungs constricted as primal need flooded through his veins.

“Let me up, please.”

Her command was barely a whisper and never had he wanted to disobey an order so badly.

“I apologize.” Fades, even his voice sounded disheartened. His cock was still throbbing and pulsing under his pants.

One accidental touch, just the barest hint of a graze, and he was absolutely losing his mind .

He scooted back off her.

“Wait. Don’t go. I want you.”

Every part of him froze. Even his heart.

Her cheeks were burning like fire, and she had her eyes averted. Her stammering sounded more like sounds of pure shock than anything resembling words.

What? She wanted what?

“I mean—I—er. That isn’t what I—uh—” She closed her eyes as if steeling herself. Swallowed hard. He held his breath.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked determined, resolved. “I want to play conquest for you.”

A zing of elation sparked through him like lightning. “Yes.”

Fades be praised, yes! That was absolutely the best possible request she could have given. There was nothing he wanted more right now.

Her eyes blinked rapidly. “B-but you haven’t heard what I want from you in return yet.”

“Don’t care,” he said firmly, but when she flinched, he forced himself to swallow. Logic was so hard to find, and words were even more difficult. “What would you like?”

“A house. I want a house,” she said this quickly, decisively.

Absolutely, yes. “This one?”

Her eyes went wide and then she quickly shook her head. “Oh no. No, not this one.”

What was wrong with it? “Needs changing? What? I can fix.”

“N-no, Brovdir, I don’t want to take your house.”

He shrugged. “Don’t mind.” He’d sleep in a half-frozen creek to have her right now. She was still half under him, with her full, soft body, all curvy and lovely. He wanted to trace every part of her with his tongue.

Would she let him taste her? What if he offered her more?—

“I want a house in Oakwall.”

His chest suddenly felt tight and his rational mind caught back up with him. She wanted a house in her own village. Not here. Not anywhere near him.

“All I need is for you to supply the materials and build it. I can draw up the plans.”

He balled his fists against the soapy floor. His throat clenched so hard he could feel the agony all the way down in his gut. It caged his heart and squeezed.

“It shouldn’t take too long. I don’t want anything fancy. Just a room and maybe some storage space. You’ll be done long before I finish carrying the babe, I promise.”

Why did that sound so wrong? Why did his throat constrict instead of bellowing with excited agreement?

After Karthoc demanded he be a chief of Rove Wood, all his reservations about raising a son vanished. This clan was safe . His child would grow happy and strong in a community where food was not scarce and comforts abounded.

And yet his heart twinged despite this logic. Both Hendr and Caivid had found women of their own. Women who were not their conquest but desired their company. Woman who they may soon call their mates .

“All right,” he said past the lump in his throat. He was being foolish and ungrateful. He should take what he could get.

“Really?” She sounded so relieved, and she pulled the towel up to cover herself from him. It seemed like the color in the room dimmed. “We... we have a deal?”

He nodded even as his jaw clenched.

“Good!” she exclaimed as she exhaled in obvious relief. “That’s really... that’s good. Um... maybe you could step out while I change. I should probably clean this mess up too. Do you have another towel?”

“Don’t.” Fades, the image of her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the ground, rhythmically rocking as she worked the cloth over the sopping floor...

“It’s such a mess. I think it will take a while to clean it?—”

“No.” The word came out like a growl, and he rose to his feet, taking her with him.

She let out a yip of surprise, followed by a trail of shocked laughter.

The sound was so warm it made him light up like a beacon.

The sweet, melodic tone had him grinning and all thoughts that he’d pushed her too far flew out of his mind.

He vowed to make her laugh every day she was in his presence.

He wanted to savor the sound, drown in it.

He carefully navigated the damp, slippery floor as he carried her to the bed. He set her down without preamble and only after she’d sunk into the cushy mattress did he realize he shouldn’t have been so eager. He should have eased into this.

He searched Trinia’s face, worry panging in his chest as he waited for her reaction.

But instead of noting her new placement, her eyes were fixed on him. His face .

He gulped hard, suddenly self-conscious in a way he hadn’t been before. Even before he had scars, he’d been well aware he wasn’t the prettiest among his kind. Scores of women had examined his countenance, and most of them looked upon him with revulsion. He’d grown accustomed to it.

But he hadn’t been imprinted to those women. The idea of being rejected by Trinia made his flesh prickle with anxiety.

She met his eyes. “I think... this is going to be fun.”

His apprehension fell away and his heart began a frantic, needy tempo that made him breathless.

Trinia’s expression softened, as if she had no idea how high she’d queued him up. “I have so much to thank you for, Brovdir. You’ve saved my life twice now.”

His chest tightened at the reminder.

“L-let me show you how thankful I am.” Her voice was that wonderful husky timbre he loved so much. He didn’t want her to stop talking.

But then she reached for him and stroked her fingers up his abs. The gentle caress made his knees weak and the last thing on his mind was speaking. He couldn’t have gotten another word out if he tried.

Her fingers teased around his muscles and soothed the scars. His body shivered quite against his will.

This was really happening. The Fades truly smiled on him. The same way Trinia was smiling at him now.

From here on, he would do everything in his power to prove to her how grateful he was.