Page 20 of Gold & Shadow

Chapter 11

Orson was on me the second the shadows dropped. I had barely turned when he pulled me back into a bruising kiss, pushing me against the wall as he ravaged me.

It was a plundering. A ransacking. His tongue swept over mine in a deep, thorough exploration, a gasp swallowed by his answering groan as he pressed his body flush against mine.

Good gods, I may have underestimated a few things.

“Is it always that hard?” I rasped between kisses, pushing Orson back so I could breathe for a moment and contemplate my life choices.

“Yes,” Orson growled, his eyes practically glowing with need and his voice pitched low.

That was all the explanation I got as he reached for me again, his mouth covering mine with a needy growl of desire. He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me up the stairs.

Gods, there was so much of him and so little of me comparatively. I was a bit worried he might actually be capable of hurting me, based on the size of him hard against me.

“I’ll take my time,” he growled, dropping me on the bed and looming above me, where he tore off his shirt. “Try for gentle.”

“And what if I don’t want you to?” I sat up, reaching for the ties on his trousers.

He laughed, stilling my hand as he bent to kiss me again. “Believe me, Little Thief,” he said, speaking against my lips. “I don’t reallywantto either. But I also don’t want to hurt you, and I’m significantly larger than you are.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you,” I breathed, gasping as he pulled my borrowed shirt over my head and untied the bandages.

“If this isn’t healed enough,” he warned, beginning to unbind me with his eyes eagerly devouring each new inch of skin he revealed, “then this stops.”

“You could just leave the bandages on,” I argued, willing my body to be healed enough for his approval.

“I will not take you by half measures,” Orson argued, his hands hot against my skin as he bared my breasts completely. He cupped my breasts, gently stroking my nipples with the pads of his thumbs. I shuddered, the sensation both foreign and somehow familiar.Right. “And if I can’t have all of you, then I’d rather wait.”

“So demanding,” I sighed as he peeled off the dressing and grunted in satisfaction. The stitches looked even better than they had this morning, the pink puckered scar faded significantly.

“These need to come out,” Orson commented, running a finger over his handiwork.

I shivered again. “Tomorrow,” I protested, reaching up to pull his face down to mine.

He growled as he covered me, his weight sinking down as he leaned into the kiss. I could tell he was bracing himself on the bed, the muscles of his back tense against my hands. What would it feel like to have all of his weight on top of me?

“More,” I commanded, trying to pull him down farther. “You don’t need to be gentle.”

“Stop tempting me,” he growled, scooping me up so I was farther back on the bed as his hands went to my trousers. “These have to come off now.”

“Mine but not yours?” I argued, trying and failing to grab for his laces as he worked at mine.

“All in good time, Kjære,” he said, finally getting the laces undone and tugging the offending garment down.

“What does that mean?” I asked, furrowing my brows at the unfamiliar word as I helped Orson remove my trousers. “Shah-reh?”

“I’m taking these off, unless you stop me,” Orson said, ignoring my question as he skimmed his hands up my bare legs and tapped my hips. When I didn’t protest, he tugged the flimsy undergarments away, leaning down to press a kiss to my navel with a growl in his throat. “Gods, Lis.”

I should have felt more self-conscious with his eyes roaming over me like a starving man at a feast, uncertain where to start. But the way he looked at me made me feel oddly powerful. Beautiful. Like he could never get enough of me. “Is it your turn now?”

“Not yet,” he growled, dropping to his knees and hooking his arms under my legs. He pulled me to the edge of the bed, and I squeaked out a tiny, half-hearted protest. “Tell me to stop if you don’t like anything I do.”

“What exactly are you—oh,” the sound escaped as partial gasp and partial moan as Orson lowered his mouth to me and kissed between my legs. He chuckled, pressing kisses to the insides of my thighs, to the space where my thighs met my body.

And then I felt his tongue.

I bucked against him in surprise at first, the sensation wholly unexpected and incredibly intimate. He chuckled against me, teasing me with a gentle kiss before licking over my center once more.