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What’s Come Before... Just a quick refresher for you before you begin!
Omg... Yes!!! Thank you!!!! Every author needs to do this
“Sorry,” he said. He didn’t mean it. He never meant it.
“You have everything you need, vittarah,” he said. He hadn’t called Hakon little hammer in years. “You don’t need me anymore. But I need my mate.”
After his human father perished in a hunting accident and his orcish mother disappeared into the wilderness with her grief soon after, his grandparents were his life.
Ever since he was a youngling, Hakon had been hard of hearing in his right ear, just like his grandmother. She’d taught him to speak with his hands and read the lips of others.
“My lady, it is an honor,” and bowed over her hand. Blushing, Aislinn nearly forgot to pull her hand back when he straightened. She usually didn’t enjoy touching strangers, but something about the halfling’s broad fingers and warm calluses was…utterly enjoyable.
Lady Aislinn held her hand out for the dog to sniff, and in amazement, Hakon watched his unfriendly, aloof hound thrust his head into her hand for attention.
Wulf approves
“Forgive me, I…I get excited talking about my projects.” “You are passionate,” he argued. “Nothing wrong with that.” That earned him a little smile, which Hakon took greedily.
His beast, an inner instinct that drove all orc-kin to fight and fuck and find a mate, rumbled possessively.
The instinct roaring in his chest felt nothing by halves. It was all snarling aggressiveness at another male warning him away from his— The breath squeezed from Hakon’s lungs. No. No, the beast couldn’t be right.
Mate mate mate mate
Aislinn lived in constant terror that some handsome knight would finally turn Fia’s head and sweep her away. Thankfully, Fia seemed unaffected by either men or women—although she certainly enjoyed being the one others fawned over. “I’m just waiting for something…special,”
“It’s just how my mind works, I suppose. If I didn’t draw them and get them out, they’d crowd around in my head and leave me no space.”
“I hadn’t considered that.” A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “I like it. The drawing frees your mind for more ideas.” “A blessing and a curse,” she agreed. “It means there’s always a new idea to distract me from the last one.”
Not every handsome face can make you everything you’ve dreamed—and offered to do it, too.
He meant to find a mate—something he couldn’t do if he kept mooning over Lady Aislinn. It didn’t warrant even entertaining the thought of claiming her as his mate, nor that she would ever accept such an affront.
“Does orc skin darken in the sun? Can the sun burn you?” Her eyes caught that glint of curiosity, and suddenly her hand was on his bare skin, her fingertips running down the curve of his upper arm. Hakon’s heart kicked violently in his chest—and his cock with interest in his trou.
It seemed she could hide all she wanted—her duties would find her no matter what.
“As heiress, it’d be wise for you to marry, yes. Before the king pushes a choice on you. That’s why I bring it up now—to give you time. I’m sure you can find someone you like. Someone who will be a good husband, a good partner.”
Without issue, she found the big green form of the new blacksmith, sitting with his peers, Wülf lounging at his side. Pitter-patter went her heart inside the fist of despair clutching it tight. Just because Sorcha got a storybook love affair with a halfling doesn’t mean you’ll get one too, she told herself. And yet… And yet.
She isn’t for you, he reminded himself. Not for the first time that day.
His eyes fixed on the baron, jealous rage incinerating his good sense. He could feel the growl rumbling in his chest, a bestial language older than words that meant but one thing— Mate. Mine.
He focused solely on not seeking out Lady Aislinn across the hall. He couldn’t look upon her now. Not when another glimpse would surely have him marching across the hall, throwing her over his shoulder, and making off with her.
It would be safer to bury her feelings. To forget this attraction. Nothing could come of it, not truly. She was Aislinn Darrow, heiress of the Darrowlands. Even if Hakon was a prince among orcs and just failed to mention it, the idea of a noblewoman taking a halfling for a lover was scandalous, and taking one for a husband was inconceivable.
The knuckles of both hands had gone pale, one with the effort of holding himself up against the far wall while the other fervently worked his cock as the water lapped at his bollocks. A nightly bath had become his ritual, a way to wash off the day’s soot and grime—and lust.
Hakon shook his head from side to side as his orgasm ripped through him, a blazing moment of pleasure that never lasted long enough and never left him satisfied.
He could see how her golden hair would pool around them on the surface as she smiled up at him. Those intelligent eyes would flutter at him as she took him in hand. That brilliant mouth would grin a precious little grin before bestowing teasing kisses up and down his length.
The picture of her in his mind, those plush pink lips wrapped around the angry green of his cock, had Hakon shouting into the stones, ropes of spend hitting the water.
Aislinn’s throat ran dry thinking of the outline she’d glimpsed of his cock, hanging against a thigh.
She lay for a long while in the center of her bed, the sheets tangled round her, staring at the canopy and thinking, I wish I was with him. In the baths. In this bed. Anywhere. Everywhere.
The way he looked at her now…the frisson of heat that arrowed between her thighs when he tasted her skin…
With another nicker, Bellarand turned around to trot back out of the bailey. “Yes, all right. Stay out of trouble,” Allarion called after him. The unicorn flicked his long tail. “Dare I ask where he’s going?” said Hakon. “Back into the courtyard to inspire terror and awe. They are his favorite.”
“Thank you for caring for me.” She couldn’t quite hold his gaze as she said it, her blush too sudden and warm. “It’s nice to not be alone.” “I’ll always care for you, vinya
Change was certainly frightening, but at least, for once, this time, the change would be one of her own choosing. And he’ll be worth it. I know he will.
Her breath left her in a happy sigh, and she moved a little closer, deepening the kiss.
From one moment to the next, something overcame him. That shock burned away by something heavier, more intense. He suddenly looked as if he wanted to lay her down in the grass and gobble her up.
Their lips brushed again, and she felt his words when he said, “Yes, vinya, yes. Just show me how.” Orcs don’t kiss.
His mouth moved in caressing strokes and presses and nips over hers, and his hands, oh, his hands. They ran up and down her back and carded through her hair. They pulled her into that wide chest, which thrummed with something like a purr deep beneath his ribs. Aislinn nearly purred herself and arched like a cat at the way his calluses rasped against her scalp and skin.
“Aislinn,” he whispered, and her whole body clenched with desire. Not my lady or heiress, her name. Just her name. She loved the sound of it on his lips.
“You must go,” he said. “Yes.” She didn’t move from her spot between his legs, though, reluctant to leave the little dream they lived in that moment.
“Find me when you can, vinya.” He leaned in and claimed another kiss. “I’ll be waiting.” She flushed, a smile drawing across her lips. “Nothing will keep me away,” she promised. Swooping in for her own final kiss, she pushed herself to standing.
It wasn’t fair to himself or to anyone else to try finding it in another when all he wanted was her.
He’d spend his days proving himself to her, that the life they could build would be so much better than her life as Liege Darrow. And then, with a little luck, she would choose him over being heiress.
Find me when you can, vinya, he’d said. And oh, she meant to. Tonight.
With a little tug on his hand, she said softly, “Come with me?” He turned his face to hers, his expression full of hunger. “Anywhere.”
“Are you not a little jealous that they get to make love all night?” she whispered against his lips. “Intensely,” he said. “But if it was me, with my beautiful mate, it wouldn’t be a night of making love.” “No?” She carded her fingers through his hair, her soft gaze watching her work. “What then?” “Nothing but rutting.”
Her blunt teeth caught his lower lip and tugged, inciting a growl of lust. He answered by running his hand up her waist to her breast, daring to tease his fingers across the neckline of her gown and then down, finding the needy point of her nipple through the fabric.
Unable to resist, Hakon sank his face into those plush breasts, taking a long draw of her scent. It was heavier here, thicker, and she tasted of warm woman and salt from the dancing. He rained kisses and nips to the tops of her breasts, plumping them for his attention with their joined hands.
He teased a finger into her gown to draw it down, and his greedy mouth was ready when her nipple popped free of the bodice. Aislinn clutched him to her as he filled his mouth with her, lashing her with his tongue and pulling on her tender flesh in deep, long pulls.
“Aislinn, vinya,” he murmured against her skin. Rose, he called her. His rose, vibrant and sweet.
“Hakon.” She moved quicker than his addled mind was ready for, capturing a kiss and resting her hands over his, trying to pull him back to her. “Make love to me. Rut me.
