Chapter Three
Grogoth
“Hello.” my answer is more gruff than I’d meant it to be. I try again. “Hello. I’m Grogoth.”
“The gardener.”
“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Did you water the plants?”
“Oh no, did I overwater them?” The color drains from her cheeks to shade the skin of her neck and chest, and I have to rip my gaze from her inviting cleavage.
“No!” I bark, causing her to jump. Frustrated, I run a hand up my forehead to the chipped spot on the back of my left horn. “Come to dinner with me sometime.”
The fear on her face turns to shock, that enticing shade of pink coloring her cheeks once more. But then she laughs, and my surface nearly cracks.
“I would love to, Grogoth, but. . .” She trails off, her lip slipping between her teeth.
She already has a mate. Of course she does. How could I have thought otherwise? I step back, turning to leave. Over my shoulder, I say, “I understand.”
“Wait!” her slender hand, warm as a ray of sunlight, catches my forearm.
I allow her to steer me around, our bodies so close on the small balcony that I feel her breath against my pec.
I never realized quite how short she is.
She’s short. Small and lithe with generous curves and wavy brown hair, the top of her head is below my chin.
“Yes?” I prompt. I guide her chin up and stare into her glistening hazel eyes.
“Erm, I meant, don’t leave.” Feather-soft fingers tentatively graze my chest. I cover them with my own, warmth radiating through my every grain. “I’m in the middle of making dinner. Join me?”
“Yes.”
Claim her. Before I can combat the intrusive thought, I've already scooped her up. She yelps but quickly threads her arms around my neck. The heat between her thighs presses firmly against my navel, confirming what my wildest dreams thought was never possible. She wants me.
I drag in a deep breath, hungry for the source of the fragrant scent. My grip on her thighs tightens and I let out a low groan. “Smells delicious.”
“Really? Thank you! It’s the last recipe in my grandmother’s cookbook.”
She shimmies out of my grasp as I struggle to keep up with her words. It hits me that she's talking about an entirely different smell. Dinner, probably. I sniff the air again and hone in on the scent of roasted meat.
“Okapi?”
“Yep. I had to go to the inter-territorial market for this dish. Seared flame okapi. It’s a Fyre delicacy.”
“Indeed.”
Neither of us speaks, locked in what feels like a lusty staring contest. Another inhale brings her sweet scent to my nostrils and my eyes flutter closed, my hand instinctively reaching for the bulge in my trousers. The sight of her worrying her bottom lip squanders my control.
“Oh!” she yelps as I scoop her close. I dip low and breathe deeply, her ambrosial shampoo mingling with the bewitching scent of her arousal. She giggles, flattening her hands on my chest. “I haven’t even told you my name.”
“Ari.”
“Wha—” I kick myself inwardly. Some might see my infatuation as stalking. I loosen my grip in case she wants to move away. “You know me?”
“Your home is right next to my perch. Of course I’ve heard your name.”
“Oh,” she said, shoulders sagging. Disappointment? I have to fix that.
“I know your cooking defies the territories. I know that when you’re caught hugging trees, you ramble on about their thick trunks as your cheeks turn red—yes, just like that.
” I chuckle at the color rising on her complexion.
“I know you stretch every morning, your backside as likely to make me howl as a werewolf whelp at the moon.”
Her innocent giggle makes my stone cock rise to attention even more. I barely contain a groan when she trails her fingers up my neck to cup my cheek, her eyes full of trepidation and hunger.
“So my grand scheme worked,” she laughs. “I can’t believe you’re here, in my apartment.”
“I’m here.” I lower my head, my lips brushing hers as I speak. “And I’m about to kiss you.”
She gives the barest nod, accompanied by a whimper that I steal from her lips.
The kiss deepens, my greed for her wresting control of my body.
All these years she’d been right beside me but had felt so far away.
Now she’s in my arms and I want to devour her, to drink gulp after gulp of her sweet scent, to claim her over and over until she is undoubtedly mine.
With a snarl that sounds more threatening than I intended, I hike her legs around my waist and hump her through our clothes like an untamed beast. Her gasp is the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard, more damning than any siren’s song.
Soon I have her pinned, one hand full of her plump ass, the other braced against the wall.
My little chef is as needy as I am. The sweet scent of her hidden dessert wafts to me, growing with every hitch of her hips. She uses her legs crossed behind me as leverage to grind on my cock. Dry humping has never been so arousing.
“Years I’ve waited for this,” I bit out between clenched teeth.
“You could’ve had it long ago,” she murmurs with a soft laugh, teeth grazing the smooth strip of stone behind my pointed ears. “Why do you think I squeezed onto that little balcony to stretch every morning?”
I still, then laugh at my naivety. “I will doubt no longer. You’re mine now.”
A sweet, feminine moan ratchets through our writhing bodies, rupturing the last of my self-control.
Using my broad body to pin her, I slip two hands under her shirt to cup her breasts.
They are as heavy as I've imagined them to be.
I rest my forehead on hers and watch her eyes lull as I gently tease the buds of her nipples, squeezing when I find the way it made her nails scratch at my back.
Our hips find a rhythm as I tease her nipples until they are distended between my fingers. I wrench her shirt up and lock my mouth on the extended bud, lapping and sucking, nipping at the pert little jewel.
“Do you smell that?”
At the concern in her voice, I begrudgingly pause to sniff the air. Ari pushes away from me and I let her go, vowing I’m not done with her yet.
In the kitchen, Ari opens a smoking oven. The okapi is coated in a layer of black.
“Oh, no!” Ari rushes to remove the burnt dinner and sinks into a chair.
I feel horrible. This is my fault. I was consumed by selfish desire. I kneel before her and rub her thighs. Unshed tears glisten in her endless hazel pools, my heart sinking.
“Sweet Ari, I will get you another okapi. And whatever else you need. But tonight, let me take you to The Saffron Valley.”
“I can’t accept that,” she sniffs. “Those things cost a small fortune. I almost gave up completing my grandmother’s cookbook because I didn’t think I could afford it. Besides, that was the last of the merchant’s stock for weeks. Between the delicacy itself and the transportation to Fyre. . .”
“You will accept it because I have more money than I care to spend. Enough that you could make flame okapi every day of the week until you perish.”
“Wait. Really? As a gardener?”
“I’m much more than a groundskeeper, sweet one.
I’ve dealt with many a foe that brought me great fortune, and before that, I was the protector of a king.
I may seem like a gentle gardener on the outside, but there’s a darkness living in here,” I tap my chest. I nearly bite back the next sentence, but she deserves honesty.
“In fact, I dealt with someone just last night. That’s why I wasn’t here to water the flowers. ”
“Dealt with? As in, you killed someone?”
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” I pause. She shakes her head. “Your nightmares haunt me from my perch. Last night, you finally gave me a name.”
“Stephen.” She covers her mouth with both hands and I swear she can see my clay heart pounding. “You killed him?”
“He’s alive. But he will never touch another. Not without hands, nor cock to force upon anyone.”
Her tears fell freely, and for a moment I worry she’ll send me away. Humidity clouds the air as she appears to gather her thoughts, a glimpse of the water magic she possesses. Eventually, her breathing slows, and the storm subsides. She swipes away her tears and offers a small smile.
“I'd love to get dinner with you. I’ve never been to The Saffron Valley. If you’re so loaded, you can easily afford it.”
I love the playful tease in her tone, even as the last tear escapes her.