"You are mine." The words are a rough growl against my throat, his tusks scraping lightly against my pulse point. "My mate. My partner. My fierce, perfect little baker who brought me to my knees and made me better."
"Yes." I clench around him, feeling him shudder. "Yours. All yours."
"I will protect your business with legal briefs and zoning ordinances." His pace increases, his control fracturing. "I will learn to carve roses from vegetables and bring you flowers like a proper human suitor."
"I don't need proper." I pull his hair, forcing his head back so I can see his face, see the way his features have gone sharpand feral with want. "I need you exactly like this. Primal and possessive and completely mine."
"Always yours." He shifts his angle slightly, hitting something inside me that makes me cry out. "Only yours. No one else will ever?—"
"Don't stop," I interrupt, my body tightening, the pressure building to an impossible peak. "Right there. Exactly like that."
He obeys immediately, maintaining the exact angle and rhythm, his dark eyes locked on my face.
"Come for me," he rumbles, his voice dropping into pure command. "Let me feel you. Let me hear you."
The orgasm crashes over me with enough force to white out my vision, my body clenching tight around him as I cry out his name against his shoulder. He follows immediately, his own release tearing a rough, guttural sound from his chest as he buries himself deep and goes absolutely still.
We stay locked together for a long moment, both of us shaking, our harsh breathing the only sound in the small office.
Slowly, carefully, he carries me away from the wall and sinks down onto the worn leather sofa, keeping me wrapped around him, our bodies still joined.
I rest my forehead against his, feeling his massive hands stroke slowly up and down my spine, soothing and possessive.
"I love you," I whisper, the words finally, finally easy to say. "I love you exactly as you are. Orc instincts and all."
His arms tighten around me, and when he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion.
"I love you, Quinn Hayes. My fierce mate. My partner. The woman who taught me that true strength is knowing when to hold a cleaver and when to hold a law book."
I laugh, the sound breathless and giddy, and press a kiss to his jaw.
"We're going to be absolutely insufferable together."
"Good." He nuzzles against my neck, inhaling deeply. "Let the entire neighborhood talk. Let them whisper about the butcher and the baker who screamed at each other across the alley and fell in love anyway."
"They're definitely going to talk when they realize we just had incredibly loud sex in your office at nine o'clock on a Tuesday morning."
He pulls back, his expression shifting into something smug and deeply satisfied.
"The door was locked. The window is frosted. And I do not care if the entire city hears me claim my mate."
I roll my eyes, but I can't stop smiling.
"You're impossible."
"I am yours." He stands slowly, still holding me effortlessly, and carries me toward the small attached bathroom. "And you need a shower before you go back to your bakery smelling like me."
"What if I want to smell like you?"
The look he gives me is pure, molten heat.
"Then I will ensure you smell like me every single day for the rest of your life."
An hour later,I'm clean, thoroughly kissed, and wearing one of his massive black t-shirts because my vintage dress is an unsalvageable wrinkled mess on his office floor.
We're tangled together on his leather sofa, my head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my shoulder. The early morning light filters through the frosted window, casting soft shadows across the room.
I should get up. I should go back to my bakery and start the morning prep. I have three dozen custom cupcakes due by noon and a wedding cake consultation at two.
