Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Lila
I was soaking wet from more than just the rain. My mascara was almost certainly somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be, and I could not stop laughing.
Kardok’s apartment door had closed, and we were both just standing there, dripping onto his entryway floor, struggling to breathe, looking exactly like we’d sprinted three blocks in a complete summer downpour.
His hair was plastered flat. Mine had given up any pretense of its earlier arrangement and was doing something architectural and alarming against the side of my face.
“Your floor,” I managed to gasp between the laughter.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s going to be very wet.”
“Lila.” His voice had gone all deep and gravelly, reaching down into my core. “It’s fine. It’s not the only thing that’ll get wet.”
I laughed again, sounding slightly manic and beyond turned on—since that kiss—and pushed my hair out of my face with both hands.
Everything felt slightly electric—the rain, the bar, the way the night had expanded from one drink into something I hadn’t planned and couldn’t regret—and underneath all of it was this hum, this frequency I’d been ignoring for days and had apparently just decided, somewhere between the third drink and the downpour, to stop ignoring.
I felt good. Recklessly, stupidly, invincibly good.
Like someone had finally given me permission to want something.
Kardok was watching me the way he watched me on the ice when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, that focused, quiet attention that felt like being the only thing in the room worth looking at.
He’d shed his jacket somewhere in the sprint, and his shirt was transparent with rain, and I was making very deliberate choices about where to direct my gaze.
I was finally allowed to want him.
“I should—” I started and gestured vaguely at myself. At the state of myself. “I’m dripping on your floor.”
“You mentioned.”
“My blouse is going to be ruined if I don’t—” I was already reaching for the buttons, fingers slightly clumsy from the cold and the beer and the giddiness of standing in Kardok’s apartment at midnight making decisions I’d been wanting to make since the first time he’d turned to the camera and done that thing with his tongue.
The silk was soaked through, plastered to my skin, and I got the last button and peeled it off my shoulders with a sound that was mostly wet fabric and partly resignation. I held it up, dripping.
“I liked this blouse,” I said mournfully. If I could get it hung up quickly, I thought it could probably be saved…
“I like what’s under it better.”
I looked up.
Kardok had gone very still. All of his coiled attention was directed entirely at the very wet, very transparent bra that was now doing essentially nothing except existing between us. His eyes had gone dark and intent and hungry in a way that hit me somewhere low and immediate.
Oh.
Oh, I’d seen that look before—in photographs, in game footage, in the way he looked when he was about to do something decisive and inevitable. But I’d never had it directed at me from four feet away in a dark apartment, and it was considerably more effective in person.
I felt powerful.
Absurdly, giddily powerful.
So I did what any sensible woman would do, which was to square my shoulders, reach into the cups of that transparent bra, and very deliberately arrange myself to my best advantage.
His jaw tightened.
“See something you like?” I asked. My voice came out lower than I’d intended, which I decided to consider a success, considering I was very close to losing my nerve.
“Lila.” My name on his lips, a warning and a question and a prayer all at once.
“Kardok,” I whispered, in exactly the same tone.
He crossed the distance between us in two steps—not grabbing, not rushing, just suddenly there, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him despite the rain, and his hand came up to touch my jaw, tilting my face toward his with a gentleness that was somehow more devastating than urgency would have been.
His eyes searched mine.
“Do you trust me, Princess?” he asked quietly.
The reminder pulled the last of my hesitation from me as my breath whooshed out of my lungs.
The approach. The axe. The commit. The throwing myself forward and trusting that someone would be there.
He’ll be there.
He promised.
I looked up at him—this wild, wicked orc who had caught me every single time without fail—and felt the last of the hesitation dissolve into something that felt a lot like certainty.
“Yes,” I said. “Catch me.”
Kardok’s kiss was a force of nature, deep and overpowering, a hungry claim that demanded surrender. I was ready to give it. His lips were firm and insistent, his tongue ridged and hot as it swept into my mouth, taking possession.
I could taste the rain and the faint hint of beer, but mostly, I could taste him: wild and untamed, like the promise of a storm.
His hands were everywhere—cradling my face, stroking my neck, sliding down my shoulders. Each touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, lighting up every nerve ending. I was dripping wet, both from the rain and from the desire that was pooling between my thighs.
He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down my jaw, his tusks grazing my skin in a way that sent a thrill of excitement through me. “You taste so fucking good, Princess,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my throat. “Like rain and—and dessert. I could devour you.”
I whimpered, my head tipping back to give him better access.
His words were as intoxicating as his touch, sending waves of heat through my body.
I felt his fingers at the waistband of my jeans, slowly unzipping them, the sound of the metal teeth parting echoing in the quiet room.
The denim fell to the floor with a wet plop, leaving me in just my soaked bra and panties.
Kardok pulled back slightly, his dark eyes roaming over my body with an intensity that made me shiver. “Gods below, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with appreciation as he pulled his wet shirt off and dropped it beside mine. “Every inch of you is perfect.”
I blushed under his gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride as I practiced my tomato routine. No one had ever looked at me with such raw, unadulterated desire.
It made me feel powerful, wanted.
He reached out, his calloused fingers tracing the lace edge of my bra before sliding underneath to cup my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. I gasped, my body arching into his touch.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, his voice low and encouraging. “Let me hear you. Let me know what feels good.”
His other hand mirrored the action, cupping and squeezing, his fingers rolling my nipples until I was panting, my body swaying slightly. I felt like I was in a trance, every touch, every word pulling me deeper under his spell.
Kardok leaned in, his lips capturing mine again in a searing kiss. His hands left my breasts to trail down my sides, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on mine as he slowly, reverently, slid them down my legs.
The way he held my gaze seemed to be asking, waiting for my consent. I couldn’t think well enough to form words, but I reached for his arms, steadying myself as I nodded and stepped out of my underwear.
I was now completely naked, my body on full display for him. His gaze raked over me, his eyes darkening with lust. “Fuck, Lila,” he growled. “You’re a perfect little package, aren’t you.”
His words sent a rush of heat through me, my body flushing with arousal, as I remembered the rumors about him and his lovers. This was Kardok the Wicked, the Teal Terror known for his exploits with the puck bunnies and team followers.
Was that what I was?
Because here and now, I could convince myself I was different—special.
Kardok reached out, his fingers trailing up my inner thigh, making me shiver. “I want to touch you,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I want to feel how wet you are for me.”
I nodded, my breath hitching as his fingers brushed against my folds. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut briefly. “Gods, you’re soaked,” he murmured, his fingers sliding through my wetness. “Is this all for me, Princess?”
“Yes,” I breathed, my body trembling as he circled my clit, causing my hips to buck and sending waves of pleasure through me.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low growl. “I want you to trust me, Lila. Can you do that?”
I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps. “Yes.” Oh God, I did. “Please.”
His fingers slid inside me, curling to hit a spot no other male had ever bothered to find, deep inside me. I moaned, my hips rocking against his hand. The heel of his palm pressed against my clit, providing the perfect pressure as his fingers stroked me from the inside.
“That’s it, Princess,” he coaxed, his voice a dark promise. “Ride my hand. Take what you need.”
I whimpered, my body moving of its own accord, chasing the pleasure that was building with each stroke of his fingers.
He bent down, his mouth capturing one of my nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.
The combination of his mouth on my breast and his fingers inside me was overwhelming, sending me spiraling towards the edge.
Mindlessly, I reached for him, and Kardok leaned back, his eyes locked on mine as he curled his fingers around my hand to press it against his chest. His heart was pounding, a steady rhythm that matched my own.
My hand slid lower, tracing the lines of his abs, and he continued to hold my wrist. But when I reached his cock—when had he lost his jeans?—his touch moved, cupping my hand, wrapping my fingers around his thick ridges.
We both groaned as he showed me how to stroke him, how to mimic the movement of his fingers inside me.
“Explore me, love,” he rasped. “Use me until you’re completely comfortable.”