Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
L othar’s breath caught as Jana’s lips parted. The thin fabric of the cloak clung to her curves, leaving little to his imagination. Her nipples pressed temptingly against the wet cloth, hardened from the cold water. He’d been unable to avoid seeing her body as he cared for her but he’d done his best not to look, and in truth, he’d been too worried to do more than tend to her. But now that the fever had broken and she was on the mend…
“Gods,” he whispered, unable to look away from the tempting sight before him. Her scent, clean and fresh from the stream, filled his nose. His cock jerked, fully erect despite the icy water. The mate bond thrummed between them, urging him closer, urging him to taste her. But as he started to lower his head she shivered, sending ripples through the cold mountain water, and the movement snapped him out of his daze.
“Ready to get out?” He did his best to keep his voice gentle, focusing on her comfort rather than his rising desire.
When she nodded, he carried her to a sun-warmed boulder at the edge of the stream, his hands lingering on her waist to ensure she stayed steady. Then he pulled a small leather pouch from his belt and shook out several berries.
“Crush them between your hands, then rub them over your skin,” he said, demonstrating the motion. The berries created a light foam that smelled of summer meadows. “They clean better than plain water.”
She took the crushed berries with shaking fingers, but her movements were uncoordinated, weak from the fever, and they slipped between her fingers.
“Here.” He caught her hand as she nearly toppled sideways chasing after them. “Let me help before you fall in.”
She clutched at his arm, her skin cool against his. The mate bond surged at the contact, making his pulse race. He wanted to pull her close, to warm her shivering form against his body, to claim her as his mate. But her earlier fear of his touch held him back and he pushed the feeling aside, focusing on her needs rather than his desires.
“I can do it,” she insisted, though her voice wavered.
“You’re still recovering.” He gently took the pouch back. “There’s no shame in accepting help when you need it.”
She bit her lip, clearly conflicted, then gave a small nod. The small sign of trust pleased him far more than it should. He crushed more berries in his palm and dipped his hand into the water, creating a rich lather, then paused, waiting for her permission.
She slowly slid her arm around his shoulder, bracing herself as she held out a shaky leg. Her fingers gripped his skin, sending sparks of awareness through his body, but he made himself focus on his task, rubbing the soapberries in quick, efficient strokes from ankle to knee.
Her breath caught when he reached her thighs, but he did his best to keep his touch impersonal and detached, even though his cock throbbed against the tight leather of his pants. The simple domesticity of helping her bathe somehow felt even more intimate than seeing her body through the wet cloth.
Moving to her arms, he worked methodically from fingers to shoulders. Her skin was silk-smooth beneath his calloused palms and he saw her pulse jumping visibly at her throat.
The mate bond thrummed between them, making it harder to maintain his distance. What would it be like if their circumstances were different? If he could take his time, explore her delicate skin, kiss her all over, tease her until she begged for him?
He washed under her arms and across her upper chest but couldn’t bring himself to dip beneath the cloak. A male could only take so much.
“Done,” he said gruffly. “I’ll dip you back under to rinse you off.”
“Could… could you wash my hair first?”
“Your hair?”
She nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. The bond pulled at him as he settled onto the boulder and drew her carefully onto his lap. The water lapped at his legs as she settled against him, fitting perfectly despite the size difference.
He worked more of the crushed soapberries through her dark waves, watching the suds form under his fingers. Her hair felt like silk, softer than anything he’d touched before. As he massaged her scalp, she relaxed against his chest with a small sigh of contentment.
His chest ached at the trusting gesture. After her earlier fear, this surrender meant everything. Her eyes drifted half-closed as he worked, her expression peaceful. The simple act of caring for her filled him with a satisfaction he’d never known before.
But then doubts started to creep in, souring his joy. Why was she here? She hadn’t come in answer to his prayer. What if the gods had other plans for her? What if this growing attachment would only lead to heartbreak?
Still, he couldn’t stop his fingers from threading gently through her hair, couldn’t resist memorizing how she felt in his arms. He’d never wanted to protect and cherish someone the way he did her.
But she’s not mine .
“Need to rinse,” he said gruffly, suddenly surging to his feet. Her arms tightened around his neck as he waded deeper, then stopped mid-stream. “We’re going under.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as he submerged them both, swirling her quickly through the water to clear the suds. When he lifted her back up, droplets sparkled on her eyelashes. Her face hovered level with his, close enough that her breath warmed his cheeks.
Her dark eyes met his, the look in them making his pulse race. One delicate finger traced the curve of his left tusk, sending a shiver through his entire body. No one had ever touched him there before.
“Do orcs kiss?”
The whispered question stripped away his last shred of resistance. He shifted her in his arms, angling her head carefully so her mouth would fit between his tusks. The morning sun caught droplets of water in her hair, making them shine like diamonds.
He brushed his lips against hers, as sweet and soft as he’d imagined. He lingered there, their mouths barely touching, and her tiny sigh of pleasure broke something loose inside him. The bond flared, demanding more.
He slowly deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers, careful not to cut her with his tusks as he encouraged her to respond. She tasted even sweeter as she opened to him, and his blood heated, rushing south as the mate bond sang. When her tongue shyly stroked his, need blazed through him like wildfire.
His arms tightened around her, crushing her against his chest, and a low rumble of approval vibrated in his chest as the stiff little points of her nipples pressed against his bare skin. She moved urgently against him, echoing his passion, and he lost himself in the sensation. His tongue swept deeper inside her mouth, claiming her, demanding more. His hand swept down her back, gripping the perfect swell of her ass and pulling her even closer.
Then he realized she wasn’t responding to his kiss - her small hands were pushing frantically against his chest, trying to get away from him. Horror crashed through him as he released her mouth, reality slamming back. What had he done?