CHAPTER 33
Emma
Istared up at the male above me, knowing that the image he made would be seared into my mind for the rest of my life. My sweet, gentle male had transformed into a beast.
His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his eyes were black with lust, dragging down my body and the muscles of his arms and shoulders strained against the seams of his suit.
His hair was mussed from my hands, giving him a rakish look and his fingers were curled in a way that told me he was going to be touching me very soon.
Yes, please touch me.
Maybe I should be afraid, but I wasn’t. It was the opposite. Weeks of pining and longing transformed into a lust that was filling me to the brim. Only one thought filled my mind.
Mine.
It was an odd thought. Something that had never happened before. Something that I’d never thought I would say about a male.
But there it was. Krusk was mine, and I would be damned before I ever gave him up. Instead of waiting for whatever the hell was going on inside his brain—because he was still just standing over me as though he was trying to make a decision—I got to my feet, too, and took a deep breath.
“Okay,” I said with a nod. “This is going to happen.”
He blinked at me, his breath still gusting out of him.
“Come with me,” I commanded, holding out my hand to him.
He didn’t hesitate for even a moment. My hand was in his before he even thought it through. And even though he was so much bigger and stronger than I was, he followed me out of his brother’s apartment as if my authority was absolute.
He could break me apart with one move of his hand, but instead, he held mine so gently, cradling it with such tender care. That was the final decision. In the midst of everything between us, he was still the same male. He’d proven himself and I was done waiting.
Common sense be damned, I was fucking my orc.
His apartment was dark with all the lights off, and as soon as I closed the door behind us, I suddenly became aware of the silence—the kind that hummed between two people who both knew what they wanted.
I licked my lips, turned and found him watching me again. The city’s glow slanted through the window across his suit, his jaw, his eyes—eyes that were still pitch black with lust and longing. Something that I knew could be reflected in my own.
My nerve had faded a little now that we were on his turf. This was something that I didn’t do often. Something that I held sacred. And now I was looking up at the male that I’d fallen for, wondering if I could keep going.
Damn you, indecisiveness.
“You can take off your jacket,” I said, trying for casual, missing by a mile.
He did, slowly. The movement was unhurried, deliberate, as if he didn’t want to spook me. But at the same time it felt like a promise.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” I blurted, before I could stop myself.
“Like me?” he asked, and I wished that the lights were on so that I could see him. See his expression. In the darkness I couldn’t see anything much of him, but I knew that he could see me. Orc night-vision was legendary. They were the ultimate hunters after all.
“Someone so kind and controlled. If it was up to me, I’d have kept going on that couch,” I told him, shaking my head at how little control I truly had when it came to this male.
“Trust me,” he murmured, “that control is hanging by a thread.”
Something inside of me snapped—not like breaking, but like opening. I stepped closer. Close enough to see the faint scar along his neck that had intrigued me since the first time I’d noticed it, the way his pulse ticked just beneath it.
I’d finally be able to touch it. To ask him about it. I moved closer. Close enough to smell the mix of leather and cedar and something warm and unplaceable that was entirely him.
My hand lifted, fingers brushing his collar. “Then stop pretending you have any,” I whispered to him, and he reached out a hand, the lights coming on in a blaze.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a long second, but when I opened them, I saw what he’d meant for me to see. The hunger—no, the starvation in his expression.
His breath caught. And then—finally—the space between us disappeared.
It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t rough, either.
It was something in between, something that felt real and hungry and alive.
The kiss was deep and long. My back hit the wall before I even realized we’d moved.
He tasted like heat and familiarity and the kind of risk I’d never been brave enough to take.
I barely noticed when he lifted me—easily, like I weighed nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth—or when my dress slipped against his palms. My fingers tangled in his shirt, tugging it free, tracing the lines of muscle that flexed beneath it.
Every inch of him was built for strength, but the way he touched me was reverent, almost careful, as though I might vanish if he let go too soon.
Tenderness moved across, making this different from anything I’d ever done before. There was love here. And it made it sweeter, more special. A bonding of two spirits that had been aching to be together.
And still, as always with him, there was laughter, too—breathless, clumsy laughter when the heel of my shoe caught on the rug and when he accidentally knocked into a lamp. He murmured an apology but kept moving. It was messy and real, the kind of chaos that made my heart ache.
We stumbled toward the bedroom in fragments—a tangle of hands, words, and heat. He whispered my name once, just once, in that low rumble that made it sound like a secret.
The world went soft around the edges after that as we entered his bedroom. His scent was going to be death of me, I was sure. It filled the area and had me so wet, I wondered if I was going to embarrass myself.
“Put me down,” I whispered against his cheek, rubbing my face against his, letting him know that I wasn’t going to stop this. And I certainly wasn’t. There was no physical way that I could.
He did, allowing me to get to my feet and even holding me after, as if he knew I was weak in the knees. That would usually make me embarrassed, but not this time. Not with him.
I moved us toward the bed, pressing my hand on his chest. When we got there, I pushed him down until he was lying on the bed. Then I straddled him, peeling off my dress as I went. This was the boldest I had ever been, but damn it, if it was going to be with anyone, it was going to be with him.