Chapter 15
15
MARIAH
T horak is silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he studies my face. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his voice low and rough as he confesses, “I had a crush on you, Mariah.”
Heat floods through me at his words, desire pooling in my belly even as my mind races to make sense of this revelation.
A laugh escapes me, soft and disbelieving. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
But there’s no real bite to my words. Instead, a strange tenderness wells up inside me, softening my hard edges. Thorak nods ruefully, his tusks glinting in the low light of the taproom.
“I know. I was a fucking idiot.” He runs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping. “Do you remember that vampire in our grade, Lucius? He wanted to use you for your blood. I overheard the disgusting way he talked about you...”
Thorak’s voice trails off, his jaw clenching. “I thought if I claimed you as mine, if I bullied you and made everyone afraid to come near you, then Lucius would never be able to hurt you. It was easier that way, easier than admitting how I really felt.”
“You could have just told me,” I whisper, my voice thin and reedy to my own ears. “About Lucius or…about how you felt.”
Thorak reaches out tentatively, his fingertips grazing my cheek. I shiver at the contact, my skin tingling.
“I know that now,” he murmurs. “But back then…I was drowning under the weight of everyone’s expectations. You were the only human in our grade, but I was the only orc. Everyone saw me as a brute, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than what they wanted.”
His words hit me like a blow to the stomach. Because I understand that pressure all too well—the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a role you never asked for. I think of all the times I’ve been underestimated, dismissed, or objectified.
And in that moment, I see Thorak—really see him—for perhaps the first time. Not as the bully from my past, but as a man struggling under the same burden I’ve carried all my life.
Thorak’s gaze burns into me, heavy with remorse and longing. His calloused fingers brush against my cheek again, and my whole body alights in response.
“I know I’ve already apologized,” he says softly, his voice reaching a deeper, dangerous octave that makes my toes curl. “But I will never stop begging for your forgiveness, Mariah. I’ll grovel at your feet for the rest of our lives if that’s what it takes to show you how sorry I am.”
My breath catches at his words, at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. This powerful, imposing orc, ready to humble himself before me...
It stirs something primal deep inside, an arousal that takes me by surprise with its intensity.
“Thorak,” I whisper, my voice trembling. He’s so close now, his hulking frame radiating heat.
Almost of their own accord, my hands come up to rest on his broad chest. His heartbeat thunders beneath my palm, betraying the calm facade he’s trying so hard to maintain.
Slowly, deliberately, I trail my fingers upward, skimming along the curve of his neck. Thorak’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into my touch with a shuddering sigh.
The simple intimacy of the gesture is what finally undoes me.
I surge forward, my mouth crashing against his in a heated kiss. Thorak responds instantly, his strong arms banding around my waist to haul me flush against him. He kisses me like a man starved, desperate and consuming.
It’s intoxicating, the way he surrounds me—his taste, his earthen scent, the solid heat of his body pressed so tightly to mine.
It feels like coming home.
Thorak runs his large hands down my sides, and I try not to moan at the simple gesture. Then he picks me up, gently but with undeniable raw strength, and carries me over to the bar, setting me down on the countertop.
Thorak settles between my thighs, devouring my mouth with a hunger that leaves me breathless. His hands are everywhere—roaming across my waist, skimming up my ribs, cupping my breasts through my dress.
Each touch is electric, sending jolts of need straight to my core. I arch into him, desperate for more contact, more friction.
Thorak runs a hand up my leg, pulling back from our kiss. His gaze is dark, determined. “Mariah,” he rasps. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”
I nod, desperate with need for him. Thorak slides my green dress up to my waist and then kneels down on the ground. He’s so large that at a kneel, his face is perfectly aligned with my inner thighs.
With exquisite slowness, Thorak trails reverent kisses along my thighs, his tusks grazing my sensitive skin. Each brush of his lips sends sparks of desire racing through my veins. I squirm on the countertop and whimper, my hands fisting in his thick hair.
Thorak hooks his fingers into the waistband of my simple cotton panties, and looks up at me through hooded eyes, silently seeking permission again. I nod fervently, biting my lip in anticipation.
With a low growl, he rips my panties clean off, the delicate fabric shredding easily under his brute strength. The display of raw power combined with the sudden exposure makes me gasp, my thighs trembling.
“I’ll never stop apologizing to you,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my sensitive flesh.
And then his mouth is on me. I gasp at the sensation of his tusks holding my thighs open for him—the slight bite of pain mixed with intense, bone-melting pleasure as his tongue delves between my folds.
I cry out, my head lolling back. Thorak licks and sucks at my most sensitive parts with single-minded focus, like a man on a mission. His tusks press again into my inner thighs, keeping me spread wide for his ministrations.
“Oh gods, Thorak,” I whimper, my hips rocking against his face.
The sight of him, this huge, powerful orc, on his knees worshiping me with his mouth as he grovels for forgiveness…it’s almost too much to handle. Heat coils tighter and tighter in my core.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Thorak groans against me, the vibrations sending sparks shooting up my spine. His tongue swirls around my clit before he sucks it into his mouth and I nearly come undone right then.
“Yes, yes, right there,” I pant, my fingers tightening in his hair, holding him in place. Thorak redoubles his efforts, licking and suckling with an intensity that has my thighs quaking around his head.
I’m climbing higher, my blood singing with pleasure. The coil inside me winds tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.
I shatter with a hoarse cry, my hips arching off the bar top as the climax crashes over me in wave after wave of ecstasy.
Thorak laps at me through the aftershocks, his deep, satisfied rumble vibrating against my sensitive flesh. Finally, he pulls back and gazes up at me. His green skin glistens with my arousal, tusks flashing as he licks his lips.
“You taste divine,” he growls. “I could feast on you for hours.”
I shiver at his words, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my release. Thorak rises to his feet and captures my mouth in a searing kiss, letting me taste myself on his lips. The eroticism of it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through my veins.
Gods, I cannot believe the way that I’m losing control with him. And how much I desperately, desperately want it.
Just then the door to the taproom bangs open, the sound crashing over me like a glass of cold water. It pulls me out of my dazed reverie.
“Thorak, I can’t apologize enough about Ma and Da,” a voice loudly declares into the space. It’s Thorak’s sister, Gruna.
I gasp, pushing Thorak away and quickly sliding off the counter and pulling my dress back down around my thighs as Gruna appears around the corner.
What the fuck am I doing?!
Gruna pulls up short as she takes in the scene before her—me hastily adjusting my dress, Thorak’s face glistening, the charged energy still crackling between us. Her eyes widen.
“Oh,” she says, clearly shocked. “I’m sorry, I thought it would just be Thorak here. I’ll, uh, I’ll give you some space?—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, cutting her off. My cheeks flush hot as I avoid Gruna’s knowing gaze, embarrassment coursing through me. “I was just leaving.”
I look behind me at Thorak, quickly. There are unspoken questions all over his face, ones that I don’t have the answers to. Ones that I can’t even consider thoroughly in this passion-dazed state.
“We’ll talk later,” I mumble in his direction.
And then, like a coward, I flee into the night.