Gwyn swallowed against her unnaturally dry throat, and yanked her crossbow back up between them. “Because I don’t want to deal with your oversized dead body,” she retorted, “or spend the rest of the night mopping up yourbloodfrom my clean new floor!”
The orc’s grin broadened, more amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. “Ach, you are wiser than you look, woman,” he said lightly. “Mayhap we then go into wood” — he jerked his head in the direction of the forest — “and you shoot me there instead?”
Godscursethe audacious bastard, because Gwyn actually felt her own mouth twitching up, enough that she had to press her lips tightly together. “You insolentfiend,” she snapped, though there wasn’t nearly enough heat in it. “You cannot call me wise one moment, and then ask me to go alone with you into a forest the next!”
She again flourished the crossbow toward him, perhaps to add some small semblance of threat to her words — but the orc only kept grinning at her, his eyes indulgent and appreciative, as though she were a particularly amusing kitten he’d happened to stumble upon. And as Gwyn watched, her heartbeat still furiously pounding, he came another slow, deliberate step closer — close enough that the armed crossbow was actually nudging him in the chest, the sharp bolt pricking slightly into his grey-green skin.
“Then mayhap I ask this,” he murmured, and in a swift movement, his hand — hisorchand— had come up to stroke Gwyn’s cheek. And it was huge, and warm, andon her face, its deadly claws gently scraping herskin. While he leaned in even closer, his nostrils flaring, his black tongue brushing against his lips…
“Mayhap I now show you all good guest may grant,” he continued, his voice pitched even lower. “And if you no like, I shall go, and never come again. And thus, no heavy corpse. No blood. Naught to clean.”
It was appalling logic, from an appalling orc, who still had an armed crossbow-bolt pointing straight at his heart — and gods, Gwyn should have shot him. It would have been so easy, the neat simple solution, precisely what any intelligent woman would do, when confronted with a shameless fearless orc in her own damnedhouse—
But the orc’s clawed thumb had slipped to Gwyn’s mouth, stroking softly against her bottom lip. And against all reason, all possible fathoming, she felt her lips slightly parting at the touch, her breath expelling harsh against the orc’s skin. An action that seemed to gain his immediate approval, judging by the fluttering of his black eyelashes, and the low, heated growl from his throat.
Damn. Gwyn’s still-thundering heart skipped a beat, her breath drawing in — and suddenly she was swarmed with a rich, musky male scent. A scent that had perhaps been curling through the room ever since this orc had stepped inside it, all herbs and earth and growing green things…
Gwyn couldn’t help another inhale, deeper this time, and another low, approving growl purred from the orc’s mouth. While his tall, graceful body eased even closer, his eyes long-lashed and half-lidded, his thumb stroking firmer against her lips. And in this moment, there seemed no reason not to open her mouth a little more, to perhaps let that teasing warmth inside…
The orc took the opportunity without hesitation, his thumb slipping past her lips, finding its way within. And oh, he tasted just as good as he smelled, strong and savoury, curling deep into Gwyn’s already-heated belly. And his touch was so gentle, his sharp claw so sweetly stroking at her tongue…
“Suck,” he ordered, the word a hushed, harsh caress. “Show me what is mine.”
His. Gwyn’s breath gasped again, her thighs clenching — and without thinking, without following, she somehow…obliged. Sucking the orc’s thumb as powerfully as she could, dragging it full into her mouth, feeling the impossible, inexplicable thrill of its claw nudging against the back of her throat —
And in that moment, if the orc had leaned forward, and pressed his foreign, dangerous, fang-toothed mouth to Gwyn’s cheek, or her neck, she would surely have moaned, or even arched into his touch. She might have even let the crossbow fall harmlessly away, in favour of slipping her tingly hands around his shoulders, stroking that scarred grey-green skin, perhaps even curling her fingers into the mess of his dark hair —
But instead of coming closer, or kissing her, as Gwyn might have very much wished, the orc tipped back his shaggy head, and —laughed. The sound slicing bright and mocking through the hot thick air, and as Gwyn’s hazy eyes blinked up at him, it occurred to her that this was…triumphin his laugh, in his eyes. It wasvictory. It was this outrageous orc clearly saying, without words, that she’d been a pushover, an easy target, ripe for the picking. That she was clearly willing to do whatever he wanted, even after he’d broken into her damnedhouse.
And now that this brazen, belligerent orc had her in the palm of his hand — literally — he would use her as he pleased. He would use her exactly the way Roy always had, and casually toss her away afterward. And in the process, Gwyn risked becoming just like all those women she’d helped, with their anguished terrified whispers, their astonishing tales that suddenly felt far, far too vivid. Far too real.
And gods, she was finally on her own, fighting her fate, making her own way. And just because an orc, of all conceivable creatures, had barely eventouchedher, she was about to risk her entire future on him? On this? On anorc, who didn’t even know her damnedname?!
Gwyn frantically flung herself sideways, away from the orc’s touch, well out of his reach — and thankfully, he didn’t try to stop her. Only stood there and watched as she staggered across the room, one hand clutching at the nearest chair for support, the other gripping desperately at the crossbow.
“Nice try, asshole,” she choked toward him. “Next time you want to seduce someone, you’d be wise to wait untilafterwardsto begin laughing at them.”
The smile had fully faded from the orc’s face, and his shaggy head cocked sideways, his clawed hand curling into a slow fist at his side. “I no laughatyou, woman,” he said, with particular emphasis on theat. “I laugh —”
“Withme?” Gwyn demanded, though her voice abominably cracked. “No.Rubbish. You thought you won, so you had a good chuckle, and thereby lost yourself an easy target. Better luck next time, you vile arrogantscum.”
She’d somehow found the wherewithal to properly aim the bow again, but her hands were badly shaking, and gods, she could hardly see through the water swarming her blinking eyes. And what the hell even was this, she didn’t give a toss about a filthy mocking orc, even if he smelled like plants and earth, even if her belly was still burning with abominable heat. Even if she could still taste him on her tongue…
The orc was still looking at her, his dark eyes now gone entirely unreadable, his hand again reaching for that tooth around his neck. Stroking it again and again, as though it somehow meant something to him, and Gwyn watched his lashes sweep closed, his throat visibly convulsing.
“Ach,” he said, quiet. “I ought —”
But he was going to try to coax her, to use his voice and his smile and his lean, fluid body to beguile her again. And Gwyn knew how this went, she’d walked this dead-end road with Roy hundreds of times, and she was finally making her own way, away from these appalling, appealing males. Away from this foolishness,forever.
“No,” Gwyn said again, her voice still wretchedly wavering. “No. I gave you a chance, orc, and you sure as hell didn’t deserve it. Now get out.”
The orc blinked at her, his eyes darting uneasily toward the door, and Gwyn wildly, heedlessly brandished her crossbow. “Did you not hear me?!” she shrieked. “Getout, orc, before I shoot you! Like I clearly should have donelongago, damn the bloody mess!”
The orc’s watching eyes were very still, but his mouth slightly quirked, perhaps about to make another jest about blood and corpses — but a strange sound had escaped Gwyn’s throat, almost half-growl, half-scream.
And finally,finally, the orc smoothly spun on his heel, and strode for the door. And with a sharp flourish of movement, the door slammed shut behind him, hard enough to shake the floor beneath Gwyn’s feet.
He was gone.
