9. Carissa
CHAPTER NINE
CARISSA
T he gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the driveway. Exhaustion weighed heavy after the long drive back from Seattle, but something lifted in my chest at the sight of the rental house. Our rental house.
The thought still made my heart skip, even after signing the lease last week. This little craftsman might be temporary while Torain got his storefront up and running and I figured out how to run a bookstore that actually made money, but its weathered blue paint and crooked shutters already felt like home.
The screen door banged open and Torain bounded down the front steps before I could kill the engine. His massive frame filled my driver’s side window, grinning down at me around his tusks.
I barely got my seatbelt off before he yanked open my door and hauled me into his arms. His scent—wood shavings and all the things that made up him —wrapped around me as he buried his face in my neck.
“Missed you,” he rumbled against my skin.
“It was only two days.” But I melted into him anyway, letting the stress of navigating Seattle traffic and finalizing paperwork fade away. This. This was home.
“Two days too long.” His hands slid lower, squeezing my ass. “Next time I’m coming with you. No more letting you handle things alone.”
“You were there when we packed up my apartment last week.” I pulled back enough to see his face. “This was just boring legal stuff that couldn’t be done while we were there.”
“Still.” He nuzzled the spot behind my ear that always made me shiver. “Mates shouldn’t be separated.”
The possessive growl in his voice shot straight between my legs. But there was tenderness there too—the same steady support that had gotten us through everything with Tate and rebuilding the store.
“Come on.” He finally set me down but kept hold of my hand. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I tensed. “You didn’t unpack my boxes, did you?” The organizational system I’d implemented was essential for a smooth transition. Trying to unpack a bedroom and finding nothing but baking supplies was not on my agenda.
“Sugar, I’m not suicidal.” He snorted and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Your labels are safe.”
“Good.” I relaxed slightly. “Because?—”
“You’d color-code the body bags used to hide my bits?” He caught my hands and tugged me toward the house. “Come on. You’re going to love this.”
The front door opened to the organized chaos I expected. My neatly labeled boxed lined the walls, untouched as promised. But Torain filled the spaces between—a half-empty coffee mug sitting in the sink, sketches laid out on the table where he’d considered variations on designs, his jacket draped over the back of a chair.
Through the back window, I could see the shed he’d claimed as his workshop. The doors stood open, revealing neat rows of tools in the process of being arranged. It wasn’t my precise system, but there was a method to his madness.
Just like there was method to the way he’d quietly rearranged his life to make room for mine.
“Close your eyes,” Torain said as we reached the bedroom door.
“What did you do?”
“Humor me.” His fingers squeezed mine. “Please?”
I sighed, but obeyed. The door creaked open, and his hands settled on my shoulders. Warmth curled through me at his whispered instructions—step forward, step back, turn a little.
“Okay, sugar.” Anticipation buzzed in his voice. “Open ‘em.”
I opened my eyes, and gasped.
A four-poster bed dominated the room. But calling it just a bed felt like calling the Mona Lisa just a painting. Dark wood gleamed in the afternoon light, carved with intricate designs that drew the eye up towering posts to a canopy frame. Vines and leaves twined around each post, so lifelike I expected them to sway in the breeze. And there, hidden among the foliage—books. Tiny carved volumes nestled in the curves of branches.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“When did you...” I stepped closer, running my fingers over the details. “How long have you been working on this?”
“Since you agreed to move in. I promised you a bed, didn’t I?” His arms slid around my waist from behind. “The basic frame didn’t take long, but I finished the details last night.”
“It’s perfect.” I turned in his embrace, emotion swelling in my chest. Our bed. Our bed. The one in which he planned to claim me as his mate. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
“Do you like it?” There was a thread of uncertainty in his voice, even as his gaze searched my face. As if I could ever doubt him. “I wanted our first real piece of furniture to be special.”
I framed his face with my hands, overwhelmed by the gesture. Not the grand, sweeping kind designed to win points or prove something. But the steady, reliable kind that showed up day after day. The kind backed by action instead of empty promises.
The kind that felt like home.
“I love it,” I whispered. “I love you.”
His eyes widened. We hadn’t said the words yet, though I felt it in every shared moment, every gentle tease about my labels, every time he showed up exactly when I needed him. But watching him pour his heart into this gift, seeing the physical proof of how well he knew me, how he’d carved our future into every detail...
“Say it again.” His voice was rough as he backed me toward our new bed.
“I love you, Torain Axebreaker.”
He growled, lifting me onto the mattress. “Again.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him close enough to feel his heart thundering against mine. “I love?—”
His mouth crashed into mine, swallowing the words. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he pressed me back against the sheets. His hands slid under my shirt, calloused palms mapping familiar territory.
“I love you,” he breathed between desperate kisses. “My brilliant, organized, slightly terrifying mate.”
I laughed, then gasped as his tusks grazed my throat. “Only slightly?”
“Wouldn’t have you any other way.” He pressed a kiss to my sternum, his touch a promise. “Your color-coding.” Another kiss, lower, making me arch. “Your schedules.” Lower still, his breath hot through my clothes. “Your need to control everything.”
My fingers tightened in his hair as his mouth found my inner thigh. “I do not—oh!”
He chuckled against my panties. “You were saying?”
My protests died as he slowly slid the damp fabric down my legs. A low moan escaped as he gently parted my thighs, exposing my heat to his hungry gaze.
“Gods, look at you.” Desire roughened his voice. “So wet already, and I’ve barely even touched you.”
A shudder coursed through me as he licked up my slit. One broad swipe to gather my taste, followed by smaller teasing circles. His lips locked around my clit, tongue lapping at the bundle of nerves. I moaned, hips rocking helplessly against his face.
“Torain.” I tightened my grip in his hair. “Please.”
“Begging already?” Amusement colored his voice even as he slipped one thick finger inside me. “Need to come?”
“Yes, fuck, I need?—”
“Soon, sugar.” He added a second finger, stretching me wider. “Got to get you ready first.”
Any retort I might have had dissolved into a strangled moan as he dove in. His tongue was everywhere. His fingers pumped hard. Every touch and breath sent stars bursting behind my eyelids.
“Don’t stop,” I groaned, fisting my hands in the sheets. “Please don’t stop.”
He hummed against me, the vibrations sending sparks shooting up my spine. Pleasure built low in my abdomen, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers, each swipe of his tongue. My thighs trembled. My breath came in ragged gasps. I was so close. So close...
“Let go, sugar.” Torain’s voice was rough with desire. “Come for me. Show me how good I make you feel.”
His fingers curled, hitting that perfect spot as he sucked hard on my clit. The coil inside me snapped. Pleasure crashed over me in waves as I came with a cry, my back bowing off the bed. Torain worked me through it, easing off only when I collapsed back against the sheets, boneless and panting.
He kissed his way up my body—hip, ribs, the underside of my breast. When he finally reached my mouth, I tasted myself on his tongue.
“Welcome home, sugar,” he murmured against my lips.
His mouth felt like fire against mine, igniting every nerve ending. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist, urging him closer as his hands roamed under my shirt. Those big, rough fingers left trails of heat in their wake.
“Too many clothes,” I panted between kisses. I tugged at his shirt, desperate for skin contact.
Torain chuckled and sat back on his knees. The muscles in his arms flexed as he stripped off his shirt in one fluid motion. My mouth went dry at the sight of his broad chest and sculpted abs, like always. Green skin pulled taut over powerful muscles that had featured in more than a few of my morning shower fantasies.
“Your turn, sugar.” His eyes darkened as I slowly unbuttoned my blouse. “Let me see you.”
I let the silk slide down my arms and fall to the floor. His breath hitched when I reached behind to unhook my bra. The lace fell away, baring my breasts to his view.
“Perfect.” He cupped the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples. “So fucking perfect.”
I arched into his touch, moaning as he rolled the sensitive peaks between his fingers. Heat pooled between my thighs, my core clenching with need.
“Please.” I fumbled with his belt. “I need you inside me.”
A growl rumbled through his chest. He caught my hands, pressing them into the mattress above my head. “Patience, sugar. I’m not done playing with you yet.”
His mouth replaced his fingers on my breast. I gasped as he sucked hard, his tusks grazing sensitive skin. My hips bucked, seeking friction against the impressive bulge in his jeans. Another growl rumbled against my skin as he worked my skirt down my legs.
Then I was fully bare beneath him. Wantonly spread open, my wrists pinned under one large hand as he knelt between my thighs. He palmed himself roughly through his pants, drinking me in like he might devour me whole.
“Fuck.” Need roughened his voice. “Spread your pretty pussy for me. Let me see how ready you are.”
I obeyed, using my free hand to part my slick folds. My breath hitched as finally shed his jeans, his thick cock bobbing between us. The tip already glistened, and gods and devils, I needed him inside me.
He caught my gaze as he positioned himself at my entrance. “Say it again, Carissa.”
“I love you.” I reached for him. “I love you, I?—”
My words broke off in a low moan as he pushed into me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch burned in the best way, my body gradually adjusting to his size. He moved slowly, letting me feel every thick inch until he bottomed out.
“Perfect.” He dropped his forehead to mine, breathing hard. “So fucking perfect.”
He pulled back, the slow drag lighting every nerve ending on fire. I braced for a hard thrust, but instead he rocked into me achingly slowly. The new angle hit something deeper, sending pleasure singing along my skin. Each controlled stroke stretched me wider, pushing me higher until I hung suspended on a knife’s edge, seconds away from falling.
“Look at you,” Torain growled. “My beautiful mate. Taking my cock so well. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take every fucking inch of me.”
I moaned at his words, arching into him. “Please.”
His pace quickened, each thrust driving me higher. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. His growls vibrated through me as I raked my nails down his back.
“Been waiting so long.” His hips snapped forward, making me gasp. “Dreamed of marking you. Making you mine forever.”
His rhythm faltered as I clenched around him. I was close again, pressure building with each stroke. His hand slid between us, thumb finding my clit.
“Come for me, Carissa.” His voice was pure gravel. “Want to feel you come on my cock when I claim you in our bed.”
Our bed. Our bed. The words echoed in my mind. I wanted this orc, wanted to build something together. Wanted it all—the family, the stability, the messy moments and sweet ones too.
All of it.
With him.
My thighs tightened around his hips, holding him close as he fucked me deeper, faster. The tension in me wound impossibly tight. My back arched off the sheets. Stars exploded across my vision.
And then I fell.
Torain cursed as he lost the last threads of his control. His thrusts turned erratic, desperate. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, breath coming in harsh pants.
“Carissa,” he groaned. “Fuck, I’m close. I need—can I?—”
I knew what he was asking. What he needed.
“Yes,” I gasped out. “Do it. Make me yours.”
His teeth sank into the junction of my neck and shoulder. Pain lanced through me, but it only heightened the pleasure still thrumming through my veins. I felt the exact moment Torain found his release—the pulse of his cock inside me, the flood of warmth as he spilled himself deep.
We collapsed onto the mattress in a tangle of sweaty limbs, both panting heavily. Torain’s tongue laved over the spot he’d bitten, soothing the ache. I could feel our heartbeats gradually slowing, falling into sync.
After a long moment, Torain propped himself up on one elbow. His fingers ghosted over the mark he’d left. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. “I’m perfect.” I stretched, cataloging the various aches. “Though we should probably start unpacking.”
Torain’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Tomorrow.” He rolled us so I sprawled across his chest. “We’ve got a new bed to break in properly first.”
I traced idle patterns on his skin. “Multiple times?”
“Multiple times.” He caught my wandering hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “In multiple positions.”
“Hmm.” I pretended to consider. “That does sound more fun than organizing kitchen supplies.”
“More fun than color-coding your closet?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“You take that back,” I said, mock scandalized. I swatted his chest. “Nothing’s more fun than color-coding.”
“Challenge accepted.” He flipped us again, pinning me beneath him. “Let me show you exactly how wrong you are about that.”
As his mouth claimed mine once more, I had to admit—some things were definitely worth disrupting my carefully ordered plans for.
Tomorrow could wait. Right now, all I needed was this. Him. Us.
Home.