Chapter 12 #2
The prep table creaks beneath us, the heavy wood protesting the force of my thrusts.
All I care about is the woman beneath me, clinging to my shoulders, meeting me thrust for thrust despite the size difference.
All I care about is the way she's saying my name like a prayer, like a curse, like the only word she knows.
"That's it," I growl, feeling her body start to tense again, recognizing the signs. "Come for me, Quinn. Let me feel you come apart on my cock."
"Lanek it's too much—"
"You can." I slide a hand between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves again, and she shatters. I feel it, feel her whole body lock up as pleasure crashes through her, feel the rhythmic clenching of her body around mine. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced.
I follow her over the edge moments later, burying myself as deep as I can go and letting out a roar that probably wakes half the neighborhood. My release seems to go on forever, my body pulsing inside hers, marking her, claiming her in the most primal way possible.
When I finally come back to myself, I'm collapsed on top of her, my full weight pressing her into the table.
I should move. Should check that she can breathe.
But my body feels heavy and satisfied in a way it never has before, and the possessive part of my brain is purring with contentment at having my mate pinned beneath me.
"Can't breathe," she wheezes, and I immediately shift my weight, bracing myself on my forearms again. "Thank you."
"Sorry." I press a kiss to her forehead, her nose, her lips. "Got carried away."
"I noticed." She's smiling though, soft and sated and so beautiful. "Wow. That was—"
"Worth the wait?"
"Definitely worth the wait." She runs her hands down my back, tracing the lines of my tattoos. "Though maybe next time we could try an actual bed? This table is not comfortable."
"Next time?" I grin down at her. "Little baker, we're not even close to done tonight."
Her eyes widen. "We're not?"
"Not even close." I pull out carefully, ignoring her small sound of protest, and scoop her up into my arms. "Now I'm taking you upstairs to my apartment, where I have a bed specifically reinforced to handle my weight, and I'm going to show you what it means to be claimed by an Orc."
She shivers against me, but there's heat in her eyes. "That sounds like a threat."
"That's a promise."
I wake before dawn, a habit ingrained from years of getting to the butcher shop early to receive deliveries.
Quinn is curled against my side, her small body tucked perfectly into the curve of mine, her head resting on my chest. Her hair is a wild tangle, her lips are swollen from my kisses, and there are bite marks on her shoulder that make every possessive instinct in me roar with satisfaction.
Mine.
I'm careful not to wake her as I slip out of bed and pull on my pants. She needs the sleep after last night—after the multiple rounds that left us both exhausted and satisfied. I head downstairs to my shop, intending to get an early start on breaking down the hanging beef in the walk-in.
But as I pass through the shared alley, I notice something that makes me stop cold.
There's a new notice taped to Quinn's back door. Another legal document from that corporate bastard who thinks he can force my mate out of her bakery. I rip it down, scanning the contents, and my vision starts to go red around the edges.
Thirty days. He's giving her thirty days to vacate or pay triple the current rent.
My hands crumple the paper as rage floods through me. This human thinks he can threaten what's mine? Thinks he can force my mate from her territory? Thinks he can cause her the kind of breakdown I witnessed yesterday?
Absolutely not.
In Orc culture, when you claim a mate, her battles become your battles. Her enemies become your enemies. And this corporate developer just made himself my enemy.
I head back upstairs, moving quietly through my apartment until I reach my office. I pull up the business registration for Quinn's building on my computer, memorizing the developer's name and the address of his corporate headquarters downtown.
Then I start making calls.
My cousin runs a construction company that specializes in "persuasive" negotiations. My brother works in the city planning office and owes me several favors. My uncle manages a network of traditional Orc businesses throughout the city, many of which have been fighting similar corporate takeovers.
By the time the sun is fully up, I've assembled what humans would call a war council and what Orcs call a perfectly reasonable response to a threat against our family.
"Lanek?" Quinn's sleepy voice comes from the bedroom doorway. She's wearing one of my shirts, which falls to mid-thigh on her small frame, and her hair is even more disheveled than before. She looks absolutely perfect. "What are you doing up so early?"
I save the spreadsheet I've been building, a comprehensive breakdown of the developer's business holdings and potential vulnerabilities,and turn to face her. "Making breakfast. You need protein after last night."
She blushes beautifully, padding across the room to lean against my desk. "I'm pretty sure I got plenty of protein last night."
"That was different." I pull her into my lap, unable to resist touching her now that she's awake. "That was pleasure. This is fuel."
"You're being weird." She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Weirder than usual, I mean. What's going on?"
I consider lying. Consider keeping this from her until it's handled. But she's my mate, and she deserves honesty.
"That developer left another notice on your door this morning. Thirty days to vacate or triple rent."
All the soft sleepiness disappears from her face immediately, replaced by stress and fear. "What? No. He can't—I need more time than that. I need to find a lawyer, need to—"
"You don't need to do anything." I cup her face in my hands, making her look at me. "I'm handling it."
"What do you mean you're handling it?" Her voice has gone sharp with panic. "Lanek, this is my business. My problem. You can't just—"
"You're my mate." I say it simply, like it explains everything. Because to me, it does. "Your enemies are my enemies. Your battles are my battles. And I'm not going to stand by and watch some corporate bastard force you out of your territory."
"Lanek, no." She tries to pull away but I hold her gently in place. "You can't go all protective Orc on this. There are laws. Legal processes. You can't just—what were you planning to do? Break his kneecaps?"
"Of course not." I'm genuinely offended she'd think so little of my planning.
"I was going to systematically dismantle his business holdings through a coordinated effort of Orc-owned businesses, file multiple zoning complaints about his properties, and have my brother in city planning tie up his permits in red tape for the next eighteen months. "
"That's actually kind of brilliant."
"I'm not just a pretty face, little baker."
"But I still can't let you do it." She puts her hands over mine, her expression pleading. "This is my fight. I need to handle it myself."
"Why?" The question comes out harder than I intend. "Why do you need to fight alone when you have a mate who's willing and able to fight beside you?"
"Because—" She struggles for words. "Because I've always handled everything myself. Because I don't know how to let someone else, because what if you fail? What if this makes things worse? What if—"
I kiss her, cutting off the spiral of anxiety. When I pull back, her eyes are wide and her breathing is unsteady.
"I won't fail," I promise quietly. "And you're not alone anymore.
You said you were mine last night. Well, that goes both ways, Quinn.
I'm yours too. Which means your problems are my problems. Your battles are my battles.
And I'm not going to watch you break down crying in your dark bakery ever again if I can prevent it. "
She's quiet for a long moment, and I can see the internal war playing out across her face. The need for independence fighting against the relief of having someone in her corner. The fear of trusting someone else fighting against the desire to let me help.
Finally, she takes a shaky breath. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, you can help. But we do this together. As partners. Not you riding in like some possessive Orc knight to save the day while I stand on the sidelines."
A grin splits my face. "Partners. I can work with that."
"Good." She stands up, tugging my shirt down self-consciously. "Now make me that breakfast you promised, and we can start planning how to destroy this developer's life."
I pull her back down for one more kiss, deep and possessive and full of promise. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"
She freezes, her eyes going wide. "You…what?"
Fuck. That wasn't how I meant to say that. But now that the words are out there, I can't take them back. And I don't want to.
"I love you," I repeat, meeting her shocked gaze steadily.
"I've loved you since you traipsed into my shop covered in food and fury.
I loved you when you retaliated with the flour bomb.
I loved you when you stood up to that food critic.
I loved you when you broke down crying and let me hold you.
And I love you now, sitting in my lap in my shirt, agreeing to let me fight your battles beside you. "
Her eyes are suspiciously shiny. "You're supposed to ease into that kind of declaration. Maybe over a romantic dinner. Not while discussing corporate warfare before breakfast."
"I'm an Orc." I shrug unapologetically. "We're not subtle."
"No." She laughs wetly, tears finally spilling over. "You're really not."
"So?" My heart is pounding, waiting for her response. "Are you going to leave me hanging here, little baker?"
She cups my face in her small hands, her thumbs brushing across my tusks. "I love you too, you ridiculous, possessive, steak-leaving Orc. I have absolutely no idea how this is going to work, but I love you too."
Relief and joy crash through me in equal measure. I stand, lifting her with me, and carry her back toward the bedroom. "Breakfast can wait."
"Lanek!" She's laughing now, clinging to my shoulders. "You just said I needed protein!"
"Change of plans." I kick the bedroom door shut behind us with my foot. "I'm going to show my mate exactly how an Orc celebrates a declaration of love. Then we'll have breakfast. Then we'll destroy your enemies. Sound good?"
Her answer is lost in my kiss, but I'm pretty sure it's a yes.