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The pointed tip of his ear brushed against mine as he looked down at my hand, breathing faster. “Take it out.”
My pulse leaped. I whispered, “B-but Larkin—”
“He can’t see.” His hips squirmed, chest rising faster as he rubbed his cock against my hand.
I glanced fearfully at the arena full of people, clearly visible through the windows—which meant we were just as visible if they looked up at the private box. All eyes were currently glued to the ring as Corey stood over The Optometrist’s prone body with his hands on his hips, bouncing his gigantic pecs one at a time, making his pink shimmery nipple tassels spin around and around.
I got momentarily distracted. It was mesmerising.
“The Tasselled Tussler is twirling his best assets and The Optometrist is getting dizzy!” the commentator crowed into the mic. “He can’t keep his eye on both! He doesn’t know where to look!”
The Optometrist was making a big show of blinking his one enormous eye with a dazed expression, shaking his head sharply as he scrambled to get up from the mat.
“Taylor,” Holt whined softly, practically humping my hand.
I blinked and cast another fearful glance over the rapt audience. All it would take was for one person to glance up. “What about the—”
“I don’t care.” Holt let out a tiny, strangled sound. “God, you make me so fucking horny, Taylor. I want you to—”
“Are you seriously canoodling while I’m in the room?” Larkin’s unimpressed voice made us both freeze. “Have some, like, decorum or whatever.”
That was a bit rich coming from the man—uh, fae—who’d spent all evening talking about the various ways he wanted to bang the wrestlers, but he was right. My face flaming red, I slid my hand off Holt’s cock and heard him whine in protest.
“You could leave,” he snapped at Larkin, grabbing my hand and trying to pull it back onto his crotch.
“I have to look after Cora,” Larkin said, voice heavy with fake innocence.
“You could look after her literally anywhere else.”
“Corey will pitch a fit if she’s not in the exact place he left her. Besides, even if I did leave, are you seriously gonna go to pound town in front of hundreds of people? I didn’t know you were into that, boss. It’s kinda hot.”
Holt gave up and let out a miserable groan. “He’s ruined it.”
Chapter Sixteen
Confused Boners
Corey won his match. I wasn’t at all surprised. Even though it was all a performance, it just wouldn’t be believable for anyone to take down that giant mountain of orc meat.
The long day and previous rum-fuelled evening started catching up on me, and by the time the overhead lights went back on in the arena below, I was yawning and leaning heavily into Holt’s side.
His arm was still wrapped around my shoulders, and it was nice. So nice. He’d played with my hair for a while, which had almost sent me to sleep while also making me daydream about him grabbing a big fistful of it as he guided my mouth up and down his cock.
I had been feeling surprisingly calm about the whole monsters-exist discovery, but that changed when Corey flounced back into the private box to collect Cora.
I stared up at him, my brain finally getting to grips with the fact that this was an actual orc. A real orc. He wasn’t wearing green body paint. He wasn’t wearing prosthetic tusks and ears.
“Did you enjoy the show, honey?” he asked, giving me a bright but worn-out smile. His chest was still heaving, and he was glistening with sweat. And body glitter.
“Y-yeah, it was amazing.” I stood from the couch and faced him to be polite. Thankfully, the wet patch on my jeans had dried, but my pulse was quickening as I watched this giant orc turn to Larkin and start cooing over Cora as she was handed over with an excited yip.
He was an actual orc. The Optometrist was an actual cyclops. Nunhallowed Pound was an actual incubus who dressed up as a sexy nun. Seb was a werewolf.
Weirdly, the sight of Holt and Larkin didn’t freak me out at all. I was too attracted to Holt to panic over the fact that he wasn’t actually human, and Larkin was too ridiculous to take seriously. But seeing Corey the orc up close, my brain forcing me to confirm that he wasn’t wearing body paint or prosthetics, that that was just the way he looked, was making me go a little light-headed.
Holt realised—of course he did, he could feel what I was feeling. There were already no secrets between us, so the thought didn’t bother me. My palm was a little clammy when he took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Let’s go.” He pulled me toward the door.
