Page 16 of The Orc’s Sweetheart (Creatures & Cottages)

Chapter 16

Tilly

U p since the butt crack of dawn, I look at the spread of goodies arranged on the kitchen counter. It’s my first official date with Bodin, and I’m one hundred percent putting in all the effort.

After work yesterday, I headed to The Flowering Teapot. I spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the wisteria-covered facade before Annamae found me and dragged me inside to sample an array of goodies. The interior of the café is even more beautiful than the outside with plants dripping from every corner of the room—even the ceiling—and colorful flowers arranged in vases on the wooden tables.

Annamae and Richard are the sweetest and filled my wicker basket to the brim with everything savory and sweet. They got me to sample a variety of goodies, most of them marvelously delicious, and others a tad too experimental for a first date. I’ll save the strawberry-guava pie and the beer-and-pretzel pie for another time when I’m feeling more adventurous.

After The Flowering Teapot, I popped into The Winged Apple for fresh fruit and vegetables to add to the meal. Pierre, the old gargoyle who runs the shop, seemed to approve of my selection with his positive-sounding grunts every time he rang another item up.

I don’t know if Bodin and I will get around to eating everything, but it’s always good to have a healthy variety. I wouldn’t be much of a nurse if I didn’t consider serving him a balanced meal.

I hope Bodin is part of my balanced meal.

He’s been the perfect, respectful gentleman so far, but I’m going to need him to put that on the back burner so he can disrespect me real good.

Throwing the windows open, I take a deep breath as I watch the tip of the sun reach past the horizon. The sky is swiftly changing from red to orange to yellow to blue, and the last of the stars will soon fade away. Bodin’s favorite time of day, mine too.

Oh, fuck. He’ll be here soon.

I rush to the bedroom and change out of my baggy pajamas, throwing on a strappy baby-doll dress I meticulously decided on last night. It’s the perfect balance of tits and thighs on display without making it look like I’m outrightly trying to seduce him. Even though I am.

At the first sound of familiar footsteps heading down the cobbled path, I chuck on a light cardigan that drapes off my shoulders, and head for the door.

Bodin has said multiple times that he wants to mark me up, drag his tusks across my skin. I want that, so I’ll show him as much skin as I can without trying to make it too obvious.

In my haste to get to the door—perhaps so I can casually lean against it before he has to knock—I misjudge the distance from the wall to my foot, and stub my little toe in the corner.

“Ouch! Fuck!” I whisper-yell. The front door flies open less than a second later and a large male storms toward me.

“Tilly! Are you okay? What happened?” Bodin asks, hands reaching for me, brows scrunched down, and eyes searching my body for injuries.

“Hi,” I grunt from my hunched-over position. “Stubbed toe. No big deal. It happens.”

Without another word, Bodin scoops me up—bridal style—and carries me toward the kitchen. The throbbing of my toe is already a distant memory compared to having his rough hands on my naked thighs.

Mental note—from now on, only wear dresses when alone with Bodin.

We come to a stop in the doorway and Bodin’s concerned frown morphs into delight, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he takes in all the food on the counters. “Wow, that is a very impressive spread. Are you expecting the whole town? ”

I bite my lip and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be. I’ve not had many dates with orcs before and even though I understand the general amount of food your species consumes, I didn’t know how much you personally enjoyed. I also don’t know yet if you prefer sweet over savory, or if you like pies or sandwiches, or maybe you eat fruit for breakfast? And if I got you fruit, I might as well get some vegetables, so I prepared the—”

Bodin cuts off my rambling with a fierce kiss. I part my lips, inviting him in, letting his tongue stroke against mine. I reach a hand up to cup his soft, bearded cheek and he pulls me tighter into him. After a minute or so, we both slow the kiss down until we’re quietly staring into each other’s eyes, my dopey look reflected in his expression.

“You’re really special, Matilda. I like you. A lot,” Bodin confesses quietly, eyes shining with something akin to wonder.

My mouth curves into a half smile, and I whisper, “I’m really glad to hear that, because I like you too. A lot.”

We stay like that for a moment or two longer, just breathing each other in, letting the weight of our confessions settle around us, before he gently lets me down.

“Come outside with me. I brought your new garden furniture set.”

A squeal of excitement bursts from me and I duck around Bodin’s large frame and rush toward the door.

Already set down in the perfect spot in the garden I pointed out last time, is a table and two chairs—one yellow and one blue. I turn around and throw my arms around Bodin’s neck.

Standing on my tiptoes, I press a big thank-you kiss to his lips and release him before he can respond, practically running—as much as a bum ankle and sore little toe will allow—toward the set.

I run an admiring hand over the wood, appreciating the color choices and all the effort Bodin put into the set. “This is perfect,” I tell him. “Thank you so much. I foresee many breakfast dates right here, and dinners, and also tea times. I’ll basically be spending any moment I can right here, and you’re welcome whenever you want.”

Bodin comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist like he’s done this a thousand times before. “I’m glad you like them,” he says into my ear and hugs me closer.

I lean back into him and rest my arms on his as I eye the set. “They all look really sturdy. And weather resistant too.”

Bodin walks us forward and turns to sit down on the blue chair, pulling me into his lap. “They’re all very strong. Very sturdy. I promise.”

“Oh,” I say. “Point very much proven.” It’s like Bodin can read the hint of insecurity that I was very valiantly trying to hide. I’m coming to realize he sees everything about me.

Bodin nudges my face so I’m looking directly into his dark eyes. His deep voice rumbles as he implores me to understand. “I’m a big male, Matilda, and you’re tiny compared to me. All my furniture is sturdy, all reinforced to handle my weight and then some. This chair can comfortably accommodate both of us without any problem. See?”

Bodin thrusts up and I bounce in his lap with a gasp. The chair doesn’t even creak .

“I see.” My voice comes out husky, giving away just how much I liked that thrusting.

Under my lap, Bodin’s cock hardens and presses against my thigh. He stares at me intently, his pulse throbbing in his neck, his gaze bouncing from my eyes to my lips, and his grip on my thigh grows firmer.

My breathing turns shallow and I subtly squeeze my legs together. My nipples pebble, stabbing against the fabric of my bra, begging to be released from their constraints and sucked into his mouth.

I bite my lip, not wanting to say anything to spoil this moment because Bodin is clearly on the cusp of giving in.

Our chests move up and down in tandem, breathing in sync as our bodies strain for each other, and Bodin’s hand finally— finally —moves toward the inside of my thighs. I weave a hand into his soft black hair, keeping our eyes locked, silently encouraging him to keep going until we’re both completely undone by the other.

“Tell me to stop, Matilda,” Bodin says in a voice like gravel, desperately hanging on to his last fragments of resistance as his hand glides upward, toward where I want him most.

I widen my legs, unwilling to delay this for a second longer. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.

I don’t care how needy I sound. I need Bodin’s touch more than I need my dignity.

Bodin’s smile drips with satisfaction as he skims his fingers against the damp lace of my panties. “Do you need me here, sweetheart? Do you want my thick fingers in your tight little cunt? ”

My lips part and I suck in an audible breath as his fingers rub against my core, the thin excuse for underwear I donned this morning the only barrier between us. “Yes.” My whole body is alive with his touch, my nerves alert, their attention riveted on the tips of Bodin’s fingers.

He moves a single finger up, testing my responses as he traces delicate, teasing circles against my clit. I tighten my grip on his hair, clinging to him in case this is a dream that I’ll cruelly wake from at any second.

“Fuck me with your fingers, Bodin,” I demand in a tone that brooks no argument, and tilt my hips forward in a clear indication that I need more.

Bodin’s finger pauses and he arches a single eyebrow at me. A moan of protest sits in my throat, but I bite my lip and swallow it down. He keeps his eyes on me as he shoves my panties to the side and moves a finger between my pussy lips, careful not to touch my clit or enter me as he coats the digit in my arousal.

Is he really going to torture me for trying to command him? I might spontaneously combust if I don’t come. Think, Tilly. Feminine wiles. Or titties. If I show him my titties will that help?

“I wanted to take things slow with you, Matilda,” Bodin says, his finger still moving lazily between my folds. “I wanted to grovel, to take you on elaborate dates before we got to this part. I want to earn your forgiveness, but mostly, I want to deserve a future with you.”

Oh, fuck. My pussy contracts at the most romantic words I’ve heard in my life, and a gush of arousal seeps from me and onto his hand. I think his words just gave me a mini orgasm .

Unable to form words yet as Bodin rearranges the very atoms of my being, he shifts his hand and slowly spears one finger into my wet pussy. The sound of my arousal almost makes me blush, but I can only pant, my fingers digging into his forearm as I anchor myself to him.

“It looks like you might be too impatient for all my plans, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“I already forgave you,” I say through staccato breaths. “Please just make me come.” I arch my back and rock my hips in tiny circles, needing more.

“I’m planning on it, sweetheart,” Bodin says through gritted teeth, his control hanging by a thread. Underneath me, his ridged cock pulses. Knowing he’s as affected as me, turns me on even more.

“Just one thing first.” Bodin pulls his finger out of my dripping pussy and I squeeze my walls tight, trying to keep him inside. Before disappointment can settle in, he pushes back in with a second finger joining the first, and I moan at the sensation of stretching to accommodate the added girth.

Bodin’s voice is a near growl as he proceeds to slowly pump his fingers in and out of me. “I told you I wanted a new nickname. Don’t you dare call me ‘buddy’ while my fingers are in this tight cunt. I’m not your buddy right now, Matilda.”

My heart pounds faster, and my blood races through my body, sending tingling sensations across my skin, as I try to rock my hips in rhythm with Bodin’s fingers.

I pant, “What should I call you?”

“Mine.”

My hips still and Bodin’s whole body freezes. Outside of him, the whole world ceases to exist. Any uncertainty I had about us evaporates like a drop of water on a scorching-hot day. Bodin stares intently at me, his jaw clenched and muscles bunched, as he waits for my answer.

My mouth curves into a lopsided grin, and I state simply, “I am yours, and you are perfect.”