Chapter 5 Oren #2
Fuck. Just thinking about her turns me into a goddamn animal.
Ella. That name is going to be the death of me.
I towel off and drag on a clean set of jeans, then spend the next ten fucking hours glowering at the clock like it personally insulted my ancestors.
I try pacing. I try sitting. That lasts maybe sixty seconds before I’m up again, stalking the house like a caged bear.
Every time I check the time, it’s barely moved.
Are you fucking kidding me? I could run a full perimeter drill in the time it takes for five minutes to tick by.
I’m ready to crawl out of my skin when my phone goes off on the counter, the screen lighting up with Kael’s smug-ass official Council photo. I answer, half-expecting to hear about a break-in or a fire.
“What?”
His voice oozes through the line, all fake-civil. “Rumor says you’re planning to mate Ella.” Typical Elder bullshit. Kael Darkthorn lives to stick his nose in places he shouldn’t, then act superior about it. I grunt, not even trying to hide my disgust.
I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches, tusks digging into my lip as I sit back against the leather couch that creaks under my weight.
My nostrils flare, sending hot breath through them like a bull ready to charge.
The fucking settlement grapevine moves at the speed of goddamn light.
"That's none of your fucking business, Kael," I growl, my voice dropping to that dangerous octave that usually makes lesser orcs back away.
He laughs, low and slick, the sound seeping through the phone like toxic sludge. "Settlement business is my business, Oren. You know that." I can practically see his smug face, those yellowed tusks curling into a self-satisfied smile.
I clench my jaw until something pops near my temple, my massive green hand tightening around the phone until the metal case creaks in protest. "I run the settlement, not you. My choices aren't up for debate."
“If you make the wrong choice though …” He leaves the rest unsaid and sighs like he’s disappointed.
Fucking hell, I know this isn’t the last I’ll hear from the Elder pain in my ass.
I hang up and toss the phone, half tempted to break it, but I know Kael is full of shit.
The old bastard loves to rattle cages, but he’s all bark and no bite.
If he tries to fuck with me or my mate, he’ll find out exactly why I run this settlement and he doesn’t.
I don’t give a damn about his threats. Tonight is about Ella and making sure she never doubts how badly I want her.
I concentrate on my real mission: winning my mate.
I do a final sweep through the house, checking every damn detail until it’s perfect.
My heart pounds harder the closer it gets to seven o’clock.
My cock is already half hard just thinking about getting Ella alone.
I picture her walking through my door, those hips swaying, lips parted, eyes hungry.
I’ll make damn sure she never forgets this night.
I end up on the couch, elbows on my knees, phone in my hand, rereading the last message from Ella about seven hundred times.
Don’t screw it up. I tell myself I’ll kill thirty minutes watching a tactics video, but my brain can’t focus.
I keep picturing her instead. Those eyes.
That mouth. That attitude that makes my tusks ache.
By the time six-thirty rolls around, I’ve basically worn a path in the tile.
I check the fucking clock again, like it’s going to change just because I glare at it harder.
Thirty more minutes. My beast rages, demanding action, but I force the fucker back into its cage and focus on the task at hand: dinner.
I double-check the menu, every ingredient lined up like I’m prepping for a siege.
Steak, potatoes, roasted mushrooms, and that honey-apple tart from the market because humans like dessert.
I prep the steaks, pounding the damn things flat even though they’re already perfect.
The kitchen smells like heaven, all seared meat and garlic and fresh herbs.
The place is set, house clean, and food ready.
Now I just have to survive the next half hour without losing my shit.
The last thirty minutes crawl by like a fucking eternity.
I keep checking the window, my beast pacing inside me, claws dragging at my ribs.
It’s stupid, how bad I want this. Want her. My mate.
When the doorbell finally rings, I nearly rip the handle off getting there. She stands on the other side, hair glowing like flames under the porch light, lips parted and cheeks flushed. She smells like lemon and sex and everything I’ve ever fucking wanted. My cock goes rock hard instantly.
I open the door, and she barely gets out a “Hi,” before I grab her by the waist and pull her to me.
Our mouths crash together, hungry and desperate.
Her lips are soft and perfect, tongue sliding against mine as my tusks tingle at the contact.
She moans into my mouth, and it damn near undoes me. Fuck, I want her.
She clings to my shoulders, nails biting into my shirt.
I shove her against the door, taking her mouth like it’s mine to own.
My inner beast rages, clawing at the inside of my skull, demanding I throw her down and fuck her until she can’t remember her own goddamn name.
I press my body against hers, feeling her soft tits flatten against my chest, her nipples already hard and begging for my tongue.
My hands roam her curves, squeezing her ass, grinding my cock against her hips so she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
She moans my name, voice dark and needy, and her fingers dig into my arms like she wants to leave permanent marks. Fuck, I hope she does. I want every inch of her branded with me.
I break the kiss just long enough to catch her plump lower lip between my teeth, tugging until she whimpers.
"You have no idea what you do to me, Ella.
" My voice scrapes out like boulders tumbling down a mountainside, vibrating through my chest where her soft curves press against me.
"I've been obsessed with you ever since you nearly plowed me over with that goddamn stroller. Haven't had a moment's peace since."
She looks up, those forest-green eyes wild and hungry, pupils blown so wide they've nearly swallowed the color. A flush spreads across her cheeks. "Show me," she breathes against my mouth, her fingernails digging crescents into my shoulders.
This better not be a fucking dream the universe cooked up to torture me, or some mirage that'll vanish when I blink. I wouldn’t survive it.