"Bastard!" "Mmm, it's true," Ronan murmured, leaning in and licking gently over one of my bruises as the snow melted against me. I wasn't sure if he meant to defend his statement about orcs or affirm that he was a bastard, and as he rubbed against my nearly numb clit, drawing back sensation, I didn't really care. "Maybe I will fuck the orc," I said, shrugging. "Well-dressed means moneyed."
