He set Rosa down on the slippery rock, holding his big hands firmly to her waist as she caught her balance on her numb, tingly legs. And then — she blinked — he vanished, jumping down over the cliff, and when she carefully peered over, it was to the sight of his grey form scaling the steep, wet, rocky descent, as easily as if it were a grassy knoll.
She kept watching, bemused, as he knelt by the rushing stream below, first splashing his face with water, and then drinking deep. And then — her breath hitched — pulling out his messy braid with a jerk of his hand, and shaking out the long black hair around his head, sending droplets flying. Looking, for an instant, like a creature from another world, an elf, perhaps, or a dark fairy prince, tall and scarred and powerful, and dripping wet all over —
But the notion vanished as quickly as it came, as John’s head spun to look up at her. His face sharp and increasingly disapproving, and his hand gave a curt, meaningful wave backwards. I told you to stay, it said, very clearly. Get away from the edge, foolish woman.
For some ridiculous reason, Rosa’s mouth quirked up — this orc was alreadysodamned predictable — but she obediently stepped back to where he’d first put her, and waited. And when he returned, it was indeed still with his typical disapproval, and his hair neatly braided again — but also, with his big hands cupped together, and carefully holding a clear, sparkling pool of water.
“You must drink,” he ordered, thrusting his hands toward her. “I shall not have you collapse from thirst before we reach the mountain.”
His voice was harsh, but his hands were steady, certain, waiting. And how had he possibly carried so much water up that cliff without spilling it, had he really managed this just for her? — and after a furtive glance at his forbidding eyes, Rosa carefully stepped forward, ducked her head, and drank.
It was the oddest thing, lapping up water out of an orc’s outstretched hands, until she’d drunk all of it, and her tongue was lightly licking the last drops off his palms. And odder still that he let her do it, waiting with uncharacteristic patience — and then, once she’d finally finished, he brought up his damp hand to rub at her chin, at where it had still been sticky, from the afternoon’s earlier events.
“Thank you, my lord,” Rosa heard herself say, quiet, her gaze darting to his face — and then immediately away again, becausewhyhad she said that, especially themy lordbit? — but suddenly there was the soft, approving brush of a claw against her neck, making her breath catch in her throat. He’d —likedthat. Being thanked, or being called my lord, or both, after tending to her in such a way. Almost as though she trulywerehis pet, ready and eager to follow his command, bend to his rule —
“We must go,” his curt voice cut in, and Rosa silently nodded, and stepped toward him. And this time, she almost hopped a little up into him, his strong familiar arm catching easily around her arse, as if they’d done this hundreds of times before — and then he was off again, pelting through the trees, while Rosa clutched tightly against him, breathing in the delicious musky scent of his sweaty bare chest, and fighting valiantly to ignore the easy grace of his body, and with it, that constant, grinding pressure of his hard hip against her groin.
They had to stop several more times, usually to scale the increasingly forbidding terrain, with John’s hand firmly holding Rosa’s as she clambered up after him. And once, at a particularly tricky wall, he ordered her to climb onto his back, and hold on — which she did, clinging tightly to his bare shoulders and waist with all her strength, while his muscles shifted and rippled against her, his big body scaling the sheer cliff with swift, alarming ease.
It was nightfall when the mountain finally came close, towering tall and grey and craggy before them, and streaming smoke to the sky. And Rosa’s body against John had gone very taut and still, because this wasOrc Mountain. This orc was taking her to his dark, dangerous, infamous lair, deep under the earth, said to be full of mines and treachery and death. And there were likelythousandsof orcs swarming inside, vicious and bloodthirsty, just waiting to ravish and kill —
John’s running had finally slowed to a walk, his hip rolling smooth and easy against her, and he hoisted her up a little, tightening his hand beneath her. “Do not fear, woman,” he said, though he wasn’t looking at her, his gaze intent on the mountain ahead. “I have told you, you ought not to heed all these foolish things you read.”
Rosa attempted a nod, but the fear was still rising and curdling, churning deep inside. And somehow John saw that, heknew, his eyes glancing toward her — and he halted altogether, before yet another solid, sheer cliff of stone.
“Foolish woman,” he said, with a sigh. And then — Rosa couldn’t help a sharp gasp — he shifted her up and over, so that she was directly facing him, with her arms still gripping his shoulders, her legs still tight around his waist. A position of undeniable intimacy, especially when — ohgods— she could suddenly feel that thick ridge at his groin, pressing hard and powerful and utterly devastating, straight between her spread legs.
“Heed this,” he said firmly, and here was that hand, gliding warm and familiar around the back of her neck, tilting her head up. “You shall not come to harm here, woman. I shall keep you safe. I have brought you here to help you. And” — those black eyes narrowed on hers, quiet, thoughtful — “if you wish to show yourself a worthy woman before my brothers, you shall be brave, and watchful, and wise. You shall not be fearful and foolish, and thus shame me before them.”
Rosa’s heart was hammering, her body frozen, caught in the intensity of those words, and in the press of that huge hardness between her legs. Saying something he wasn’t saying, or perhaps he was, his claws very gently scraping against her skin, his black tongue coming out to brush against his lips.
“And should you truly wish to please me,” he said, his voice pitched even lower, “you shall obey me. You shall do all I ask of you, without question or complaint. You shall be” — those black lashes fluttered — “a good, brave, clever little pet, for your orc.”
Gods, he couldnotbe serious, he was using, manipulating, doing this again, whatever it was — but all the same, Rosa felt her stiff body relaxing against him, her hands slipping around to the back of his neck. A presumption that he didn’t at all seem to mind, just hoisting her up a little harder, a little closer, ohhell.
“And if I do please you, my lord?” she heard her audacious voice whisper, against all sanity, all reason. “What then?”
His answer came in the slight, powerful, glorious roll of his hips, pressing that ridged hardness against her, dragging a helpless, choked moan from her throat. Surely he wouldn’t, surely not now, surely this was just more manipulation, just this appalling orc wanting to get his way once again…
But the curdling fear had almost entirely vanished from Rosa’s thoughts, shoved forcefully away by the feel of him, the sheer strength of him, the rampant trampling hunger. And for that, perhaps, for this, Rosa could submit to this orc, and seek to please him. She could obey, impress him, be a good pet, a worthy woman…
And then, in three short weeks, she would take away everything she’d learned, and fulfill the dreams of a lifetime.
“Very well, my lord,” she whispered, to those waiting black eyes. “Then please, take me to your home.”
13
John’s home was cool, pitch-dark, and abruptly, abjectly terrifying.
They’d entered it through what had seemed to be a solid stone wall — at least, until John had given it a complicated series of hard shoves with his hands, and a narrow opening had suddenly, miraculously appeared in the rock.
“Wait,” Rosa said, frowning toward it, straining to follow whatever he’d just done. “How did youdothat?”
But he only snatched her bodily up again, edging them both through the opening, before pressing a similar pattern into the stone on the other side. And then the wall crunched closed, leaving them in close, constricting, utter blackness.
Rosa’s heart had begun pounding again, her body clinging close against John’s solid warmth, but even a reassuring clench of his hand against her arse couldn’t seem to shove away the fear — especially, oh gods, when she heardvoices. Distant chattering voices, but rapidly rising, coming closer and closer —
The voices swarmed them in a flood, spilling all around and behind and even above, and with them was the distinctive feel of —bodies. Big, powerful bodies, shoving and jostling far too close, while the chaos of the voices grew so loud as to be almost deafening in the blackness. Speaking no words that Rosa understood, but only all guttural rumbling and growling, harsh and aggressive and deadly.
