Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Stevie
I felt drained after that conversation with Garrak. And the double orgasms he gave me after, to be fair. I fell asleep spread across him, and when I woke around lunchtime, he hadn’t moved.
The guy had just…laid there with me underneath him?
“Did you nap too?” I asked blearily, pushing my limp hair out of my eyes.
“No.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “You just looked too peaceful to disturb.”
I mean, I had been, but…but what kind of male put someone else’s comfort so far ahead of his own? He didn’t allow anyone to worry about his comfort. Garrak was like no one I’d ever met before, and I was a little disconcerted by this.
“What do you want for lunch?”
I groaned, feeling as if I’d just eaten breakfast, and he silenced me with a kiss.
“You need to eat, dkaar.”
And I had to smile. He always knew what was best for me, didn’t he? And being taken care of was nice.
But I was used to doing. Granted, most of my life was me scrambling for my next dollar, making just enough for rent, and hoping I didn’t chip a tooth or end up in a car accident or something…but still. I was used to working, to hustling, and it felt strange to just lie around all day.
That didn’t stop me from enjoying the fuck out of the big tub in Garrak’s bathroom that afternoon.
I’d read the phrase “draw a bath,” but hadn’t actually seen it until that Sunday afternoon, when he picked me up—completely naked—and lowered me into a bubble bath as if I were a child.
I was laughing too hard to complain, though.
Then he poured me a glass of white wine and deposited a selection of mini chocolate candy bars beside my e-reader, and I shut right up. This was perfectly lovely, after all.
Maybe I could take a few weeks’ break from hustling to enjoy unending orgasms and some pampering?
I’d just settled myself into that decision when my phone buzzed. Absentmindedly—the book was getting really good—I glanced at it to see another text from my father.
Where the fuck are you, Stephanie? Your plane landed two hours ago.
I powered the phone down and scooted lower in the water, an irritated frown on my lips.
Let Dad think I was back in New Orleans, and just ignoring his order to find him. Let him think I’d done as he’d asked—no, blackmailed me into doing. Let him think I was…
I dunno. Let him just leave me alone.
I exhaled.
I could be happy here on Eastshore, couldn’t I? Away from my father and his grimy world. I could be happy being pampered—
But I’d eventually get bored.
Garrak popped his head into the bathroom. “Everything okay in here?”
Trying to be funny, I affected a posh British accent. “Oh, there you are, my good man. I say, this water has gone a little chilly, could you have the boy—”
I bit off my joking with a yelp when Garrak plunged his entire arm into the bubbles to open the drain, while simultaneously adding more hot water from the tap.
Well, that’s one way to fix it.
He kissed me again and sauntered out, leaving me to stare after his ass in sweatpants.
This is one of his love languages.
I’d guessed it from the very first morning I was here, when I’d asked him about how he’d lost his leg; he was a protector, someone who took care of others.
I’d also seen that he was uncomfortable with people caring for him, and I wasn’t sure how that made me feel.
After all, I wasn’t some shrinking violet, yeah? I got shit done.
Would Garrak Longspear accept my help if I ever had the opportunity to offer it?
In the meantime, it seemed as if Garrak had discovered a few new love languages:
Gift Giving
Quality Time
Acts of Service
Words of Affirmation
Donuts
Making Stevie Come Until She Begs for Mercy
That afternoon, he made me come on the couch, on the kitchen counter, and then in the shower—I lost count of how many times he used that trick of orc biology to wrench an orgasm from me. And each time, he stared at me as if I were addicting, and he needed this sensation.
But he didn’t come.
Why not?
He wouldn’t allow himself to?
Or was it more?
That night, he spread me out over the bed and kissed me. Everywhere. I was naked, and he absolutely took advantage of that. His lips and tongue covered everything, and good God I could get behind the feel of that ridged tongue on my nipples—
My brain completely stuttered when he moved lower.
Look, I’ve been around the block a time or three, yeah? And I’ve had some good lovers, and some great lovers. Guys who could make me come when we had sex, which is a big deal, I know.
But I’d never, in all of my life met a guy who could focus on my pleasure so completely and totally ignore his own. So no, I’d never had a lover go down on me.
And certainly not as enthusiastically as Garrak currently was.
Oh God, when that thick, ridged tongue slid along my cleft? It was like a massage. He slid one, two fingers inside me, curling them forward to stroke the little rough patch behind my clit, as his tongue teased the rest of me.
I came on his face.
He didn’t stop, because of course he didn’t stop. I was beginning to think he was addicted to this, the same way my father was addicted to winning. Garrak seemed determined to draw out more and more pleasure—
When his lips closed around my clitoris and he sucked lightly, my back arched and I screamed his name as I came again.
The third time he dragged an orgasm from me with his tongue, I was panting, and I yanked on his hair—the hair I’d been gripping as he went to town between my thighs. When he lifted his head, his chin was glistening from my release, and his eyes were glowing an intense green.
“More, dkaar?” he growled, but I shook my head.
“I need a break, Garrak. Please.”
I swear, a look of disappointment flickered across his face before he untangled himself and crawled up beside me.
He was still wearing sweatpants, which meant he was still wearing his leg. When he stretched out alongside me, that long tongue flicked out smugly across his lower lip and chin, drawing in more of the taste of me.
And I was impressed, but also… “Why can’t I touch you?”
I hadn’t meant to blurt it, and from the way he blinked in surprise, Garrak hadn’t expected it either. “What?”
Without trying to explain, I reached for his crotch, where his cock was tenting his pants impressively. “Stevie—” he began in what I thought might have been a warning, but I was beyond that now.
I pressed my thighs together, the pleasant ache near constant since yesterday evening, and yanked down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. We both sucked in a breath as his cock sprang free, and I immediately reached for it.
It was the first time I’d wrapped my fingers around it like this, and I couldn’t help but draw in a thrilled breath. He’d used this monster cock on me so often in the last day but had denied himself pleasure.
Well, I could do something about that.
With him flat on his back, I leaned over and opened my mouth.
“Stev—” he began but bit off his warning with a groan when I took the head of his cock into my mouth.
I stroked him with my palm and fingers as I closed my mouth over him. Then I pulled out and slid my mouth and tongue along his thick length, the part I would never be able to swallow down. Time to show Garrak exactly what a tongue stud was good for!
By the time I closed around the head of his cock once more, I could taste his pre-cum. It was cinnamon-flavored, and I decided right then and there that I was going to taste it again, as often as I could.
Cinnamon had always been one of my favorite flavors.
“Sweetheart,” he growled, his hand going to my head. My pulse sped, and I felt a surge of liquid heat between my thighs. I’d always loved it when a guy used my mouth—
But not Garrak.
He pulled my lips away from him just as he groaned, and if I hadn’t been pumping his cock with my other hand, I wouldn’t be able to take credit for the way he came. Spectacularly. All over his stomach and chest.
I watched, enthralled, at the way his face contorted as his cock jetted, each time weaker, spreading pale green cum across his skin.
Unable to help myself, I leaned down and primly flicked my tongue across his spend, tasting him. Garrak groaned again and rolled away, sitting up abruptly.
I was left alone and a little confused as he stomped for the bathroom. I heard his leg hit the floor and the shower come on again as I settled under the covers.
His love language might be taking care of me, but why wouldn’t he accept that I could do the same for him?
Later, when I was already half-asleep, he crawled back into bed and pulled me against him. I’d learned last night that I was most comfortable tucked up against him like this, and I hadn’t had any nightmares lately.
I could feel his heart thrumming beneath my palm and knew he wasn’t ready for sleep. So I yawned and asked, “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” I’d already missed my flight home, so I suppose I had the next two weeks to kill. “More of this?” I teased.
He shifted, as if antsy. “I’ll swing by the building site. All the rain is slowing things down.” He was quiet for a moment, then, “It’s weird not to have to get up on a Monday morning and go to work.”
I snorted, wanting to blurt, tell me about it. But instead, I asked him about his old job, as the Director of Mining Operations for the Radiance Mine in Colorado. As he began to talk, I felt him relax, and I did as well.
I fell asleep smiling as his rich baritone wrapped me in safety and comfort.
Monday morning dawned clear and sunny, which felt like something special. “Can we walk into town?” I asked while making the coffee from Beach Beans. “It didn’t seem too far. But maybe you’re worn out after your run?”
Garrak scowled at my teasing. “Female, a mere walk wouldn’t wear me out,” he barked as he swatted my ass on the way to his shower.
“Oh,” I called cheekily after him. “It’ll take two walks to wear you out?”