CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Brokk
I’m never letting her go. This one taste of my mate was glorious, but far from enough.
“I’m going to make us more comfortable.” I scoop her off the swing, pulling her into a bridal carry. Then the vines move all around us, making a hammock. I lie down and settle her on top of me.
We should get moving, I know we should. But I can’t rush this. Lara needs some sweetness and aftercare, and I plan to give it to her. Besides, the trick with the river will slow our pursuers down, and I’ve asked the plants to warn me if any humans get near.
My mate wiggles to get into a more comfortable position, her soft stomach rocking over my cock and sending aftershocks of pleasure through me. Then she freezes. “Wait—what? Is it even bigger ?”
Lara rolls to the side so she can stare at my erection, her eyes going as big as saucers. “Oh. My. God. What is that?”
“It’s my knot.”
Her hand hovers over the thickened base. “Can I touch it?”
“Of course.” I flatten her palm to me and grunt at the feeling of her hand on my knot.
“How long does it last?” Fascination fills her voice as her little fingers explore me in pulses of pleasure.
I grit out, “It’s supposed to last at least ten hours the first time it forms inside you, but since I’m not within you, it will probably be less.”
“You don’t know?” Her eyes meet mine, her lips pursing.
“My knot’s never formed for anyone else.” I brush a loose lock of her hair from her face. “Only you.”
“What does that mean?” she whispers, her beautiful eyes swirling with a mix of emotions, hope warring with fear and uncertainty. “Because if I were putting this in a book, that would totally mean something.”
It might be too soon to tell her—humans don’t understand these things. But I will not allow her to have doubts, not about me or how important she is to me. My lovely Lara deserves nothing but surety. Besides, she’s not most humans. Her books already show she’s willing to picture other ways of loving that are more true, so hopefully it won’t be so shocking.
“It means you’re my mate,” I say. “The one destined to be my love.”
Her mouth and eyes go wide. “Fated mates?”
“Yes. I didn’t understand why the Moon Goddess sent me to Earth and dropped me so far from where the rest of my people must have emerged.” I pick up her hand and plaster it to my chest, right over my heart. “But as soon as I held you in my arms on that stage, I knew she did it so I could find you.”
My mate is the most important thing in all the realms. I would travel a million worlds, learn any new culture, if it meant being with Lara. Any difficulty I experienced these past few months, I would live again tenfold to hold her in my arms.
“Oh, Brokk.” Her eyes go misty, and she blinks rapidly a few times. “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s more,” I say. “I think the goddess meant for us to meet even sooner. I’m certain I scented you several months ago, at my first photo shoot.”
“You did.” Lara bites on her lower lip, her gaze dropping. “The publisher sent me to that photo shoot to make sure I was happy with their choice of cover model. It was a big deal to re-cover the series once it started taking off, and they wanted my input since I’m more in touch with the monster-romance community than they are.”
I tip her chin up until she meets my eyes. “Why did you leave?”
“I…” Her hand flutters in midair. “I got flustered, okay? There you were, looking exactly like one of my orc warriors, the kind I dreamed about for years. You were so handsome, and you took off your shirt!”
She says the last so accusingly that I laugh. “So you like me without my shirt?”
“Yes!” She smacks my chest. “Too fucking much.” Then she’s laughing with me, the sound ringing through my soul like joy made manifest.
I pull her down to me and kiss her lips. “I love your laugh. You should do it more.”
“Give me regular injections of your love juice, and I just might.” Her eyes startle, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, so her next words come out muffled. “Oh, god. I did not just say that. I make my heroines say things like that, but I never do.”
“I think it’s high time you lived like one of your heroines.” I grin and peel her fingers away. “And I promise to give you regular ‘injections’ daily.”
“Daily.” She sighs and lies down on my chest, her fingers drawing little circles on my shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”
“I do too.” I wrap my arms around her, feeling truly at home for the first time since I arrived on Earth.
My mate continues to trace little designs over my skin, her eyes following the motion of her fingers. Her voice is soft and hesitant when she asks, “Why did you do that? With the vines?”
“You have issues with control and responsibility.”
“No, I don’t!” She glares up at me. Goddess, I love her fire. “I’m very responsible. Do you know how hard it is to be an author these days? I have to write, edit, do social media, etc. Everyone thinks your publisher does it all for you, but it’s just not true.”
“That’s precisely what I mean.” I caress her back. “Your problem with responsibility is that you have too much of it. You need to learn to let go, to stop thinking too much, to stop making lists and live .”
She gives a small laugh that holds little joy. “Lists are the only thing that keeps me functional.”
“I do not believe it,” I say. “You’re brilliant and imaginative.”
“And a daydreamer who can get lost in the story I’m trying to write while the real world disappears all around me.” She looks away. “I live on microwaved meals and get dressed out of the dryer.”
I tip her chin until she looks at me. “Then it’s a good thing I can cook.”
“You’re not disappointed? I’m a hot mess!” Lara points at the pink catsuit. “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t swan around in slinky catsuits—I get dressed out of the dryer!”
“I could never be disappointed in you. If you get dressed out of the dryer, it means the clothes are clean.” I shoot her a wicked grin. “And the only thing I care about in terms of your clothes is how fast I can get them off you.”
Lara smiles, and this one lights her beautiful brown eyes. The tension leaves her muscles, and she melts down on to me, truly relaxed.
I revel in it. My mate allowed herself to be physically vulnerable with me while we had sex, and it was glorious. Yet her allowing me to soothe her deepest fears is even more precious.
I will happily be the man she needs, the one who loves her exactly as she is.
How can I not?
I already love her.
For she is brilliant and has the most amazing imagination. I fell in love with her through her books. Meeting her in person and discovering she’s my mate feels like coming home.
Lara relaxes fully enough to fall asleep on my chest, and I rejoice in holding her close, skin to skin, the smell of my seed covering her, letting all know she’s mine.
“There you are!” a tiny voice shrieks.
“Whuh?” My mate bolts upright, wiping at her lips and then my chest with a grimace. But I don’t mind one bit that she drooled on me—it’s her way of marking me.
A sprite comes to a stop directly over the hammock, and in only seconds, the rest of the flock hovers above her, all looking down on us.
“Oh!” Lara’s eyes go wide. “What are you?”
“We’re sprites!” An acai berry appears in the leader’s tiny hands. “Want some Faerie Fruit?”
My mate’s stomach grumbles—reminding me we skipped lunch—and she reaches for the berry.
“No!” I snatch the tiny purple ball and hold it up in front of Lara. “See how its surface glitters? That’s sprite magic. They’ve made the fruit intoxicating.”
“We’ve made it fun! Everyone loves Faerie Fruit,” the head sprite protests, small hands on hips.
“It’s fun for fae. It’s much more serious for humans,” I growl and turn to Lara. “For fae, it’s like being pleasantly drunk, if a little more amorous. But Faerie Fruit has a much greater effect on humans. They become so giddy they either dance until they pass out or they need to orgasm several times to break the spell.”
“No fun, orc! We want to see the human dance.”
I snap my tusks at them. “She is my mate. You will not harm her.”
“It’s so boring here. There aren’t any elves or balls or parties!” The rest of the flock whistles in agreement. “We’ve been all alone with no one else to frolic with.”
“There are no other fae in Fruvalia?” I ask. It’s not a realm I’m familiar with, even through tales, and I still think I felt a presence this morning.
“There are gnomes.” The sprite makes a face.
I laugh. “What’s wrong with gnomes?”
“They won’t party with us!”
Lara snorts in amusement and sits up, one forearm covering her breasts.
A pulse of magic unfurls from me, and the vines of the hammock unwind even while others lift her catsuit from the ground and bring it to her.
They set us on our feet, and I stand between her and the sprites so she can get dressed with a modicum of privacy. Being naked doesn’t bother me. Orcs don’t have the same nudity taboos as humans, and sprites have even fewer. It’s well known that their love of Faerie Fruit extends to personal use, followed by orgies.
As soon as she’s dressed, I put on my pants and boots, then crouch to make her a new pair of leaf shoes. Her heels go back into my pockets. I have plans for them later.
“We need to eat,” I say. “But I’d rather not take time to hunt.”
“I’m good with fruit,” Lara says.
“We’ll bring you fruit!” the sprite leader calls out, her butterfly wings flapping excitedly.
“I have a better idea,” I counter. “You say you’re bored and don’t have anyone to party with? Why not frolic again with the humans who are following us? They’ve been trekking through the jungle all day. I’m sure they’d enjoy a good party.”
“Uh, is that going to make them have sex with people they don’t want to do it with?” Lara frowns. “’Cause as much as those assholes aren’t my favorite, I’m still team consent over here.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” the sprite says. “Faerie Fruit can make you act on desires you might not admit to otherwise, but they are still your desires.”
“So if they don’t want anyone they’re with, what happens to them?” she asks.
“They dance until they lose consciousness,” I say.
“Sounds like a good way to slow them down.”
I grin, liking how she thinks. “It certainly does.”