Grumpy Pucking Orc (Orcs on Ice Book 1), page 14
He frowned. “Incels?”
Ugh. How did I explain this? “Men who are involuntarily celibate. They think they are entitled to have any attractive young woman they want and are angry and bitter that they cannot have any woman they choose. They think that women owe them sex and fidelity because they are men. They are arrogant, controlling assholes who offer nothing to any relationship because they feel that men are superior to women and that they don’t need to do more than maybe provide minimal food, clothing, and shelter. They feel that women should act as servants and sex slaves to them. They call women females, because it degrades us, makes us on the level of an animal.”
“I am not this incel male. I am an orc. The word we use in our language translates to ‘female’ in our English app. I did not know it would cause insult.”
Of course he didn’t. I was overreacting, jumping to the worst conclusion because in the past, I’d made excuses for a man’s bad behavior and ended up hurt. It wasn’t fair for me to think the worst of Ozar based on my past horrible dating choices.
“So…all human…women are to be called women. But others are females?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity. “Demons, shifters, vampires, and elves are females?”
“No.” I wrinkled my nose in thought. “Any sentient beings should be referred to as men and women. Unless they are non-binary. That’s probably a lot to go into right now. Just remember that ‘male’ and ‘female’ are words only used for animals.”
He nodded. “I will remember.”
Damn it. I had totally ruined our sexy knife-fight vibe, but it was better to have this conversation now than later. Our first fight. Or misunderstanding. Either way, I knew his insult was unintentional and desperately wanted to get back to where we were, so I stepped in to him, jabbed his chest with my rubber knife, then kissed the spot where I’d fake-wounded him.
“I am forgiven?” His voice rumbled low. Uncertain. Hopeful. Turned on.
It was as if I felt his emotions floating through me. This connection between us…I didn’t quite trust it yet, but it was like a heady drug taking over my body, my emotions, my very soul. There was danger ahead. This was a man who could break me. I’d be risking so much giving my heart to him.
But like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t help myself.
“You are forgiven.” I tilted my face up, closing my eyes and pursing my lips.
He didn’t hesitate, lowering his head to kiss me. Once more, he began with a soft brush of his lips, those tusks smooth as cool ivory on my skin, then he pulled me to him, devouring my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine. I felt heat rise through me as I ran my hands over his chest, skating them around his sides to the hard muscles of his back. Then I stabbed him right where his kidneys should be.
“Dead!” I shouted, jumping back from him and raising my arms in triumph.
He laughed, the sound resonating from deep in his massive chest. “Clever fe…woman! Take every advantage in a fight. Although I would not be happy to know you used this tactic with someone other than me, I would be happy that you defeated your enemy and returned to me alive with his head as a trophy.”
This orc was not an incel. Not at all.
Ozar lunged at me, taking me by surprise. The rubber knife swiped diagonally from my right shoulder to my left boob before I could jump back.
“Keep fighting,” he commanded as he lunged again.
I swung my knife like a crazed woman, frantically retreating until I felt the wall at my back. He went to jab his knife into my stomach, and I dropped, hitting the floor hard and scrambling between the tree trunks of his legs. On the way out, I reached up and stabbed his ass.
“Good,” he roared, swinging around and bending low to slash again.
The movement put him off balance, so I kicked his knee, rolling away before realizing what I’d done.
“Oh God! I’m sorry.” I stood, holding my hands up. “Time out, time out! Did I hurt your knee?”
This wasn’t the sexy knife-play I’d envisioned. Something about Ozar’s size and skill had spiked my adrenaline and made me act as if I were really under attack.
He reached out, grabbed my wrist, and spun me around until my back was against his front, held there within the bands of his muscled arms.
“No, you did not hurt my knee, but you would have disabled an attacker.” He kissed my temple, then bent his head low to nibble gently on my neck. “I love that you are fierce and clever. You would not hesitate to protect yourself and your family. You would fight side by side with your mate, protecting your offspring.”
I leaned against him, tilting my head to encourage him to continue with the kisses and bites. Compared to him, I was fragile and weak. I hadn’t expected him to compliment me like this, and I had no doubt that he truly did believe me fierce and clever, a warrior worthy of fighting by an orc’s side. Regular gym attendance and an athletic youth meant I wasn’t built like the stereotypical nerdy dentist, but I didn’t consider myself particularly buff. Stephanie was, but some of that came from her being a shifter. Willa was more likely than any of us to fit into a human-warrior role since she made her living as a personal trainer, but me?
“It’s more than muscles,” he murmured as he uncrossed his arms and slid his hands down my waist to my hips. “Fighting is about being smart, thinking quickly, and using your advantages.”
I laughed, standing on my tip toes to rub the top of my butt against his very obvious erection. “This is the only advantage I have.”
He chuckled. “You have more advantages than this.”
Spinning me around again, he put his hands on my shoulders, holding me arms’-length from him. I pouted at the distance.
“Try to reach my shoulders,” he commanded.
Right.
I put both arms forward like I was in a campy ’60s zombie movie. The best I could do was grab his biceps.
“You will always have a shorter reach than your opponent,” he told me. “So, you must reduce the distance. Your fighting needs to be close. Run forward quickly, before he has a chance to swing.”
“Like this?” I rushed him, stabbing at his torso.
“Yes,” he praised even as he blocked my swing with a rubber knife he’d quickly pulled from his waistband. “Get inside my reach and force me to be always acting in defense with no time for attack.”
I tried to do as he said.
“That’s good,” he encouraged, as my swing arced through the space where he’d stood half a second ago.
“I didn’t stab you, so it’s not good.” I tried again, still failing to hit him.
Sweat had made his muscles look like he’d oiled himself up for some weight-lifting contest. I was equally sweaty, but not as glamorous. My hair had partially come loose from the scrunchie I bundled it up in when we started to fight, making what was supposed to be a messy bun just plain messy. My clothes felt like they were glued to my chest and back. I probably should have taken my shirt off. In fact, taking my shirt off sounded like a damn good idea right now.
Time to put an end to this knife fight and get out the hand-axe.
I changed tactics, diving into his chest. It was like throwing myself against a boulder. He didn’t budge but did wrap an arm around my waist to steady me. I took advantage of my position and stabbed him repeatedly in the back.
“There. You’re dead. I killed you.”
He tightened his grip, lowering his arm so I could feel the hard length of him against my stomach. “It would take more than a few knife wounds to kill me.”
No doubt, as evidenced by that scar across his ribs.
I stabbed him a few more times. “Have you bled out yet?”
“Still alive.” Dropping his rubber knife, he reached up with his other hand, wrapped his fingers around the nape of my neck, and leaned down to kiss me.
Chapter 17
Ozar
Orc romances were an explosion of emotions and physical attraction. I’d expected my courtship of a human female to be slower in pace and more cerebral, even though I’d immediately felt that Jordan was as physically attracted to me as I was to her. From the moment she’d walked through my door, I’d sensed that Jordan was on the edge of sharing my furs. Indecision? Yes, but that glow in her eyes, the way she took every opportunity to touch me, how she’d leaned in to initiate our kiss on the couch—all of that gave me hope.
Everything was so much better than I’d hoped for. She’d honestly loved the food I’d prepared. I’d been so ready to feed her by hand as our customs dictated, but her uneasiness had me switch course, and it had been the right choice. The wine and the sweets she’d brought were incredible, and it seemed that she shared my unusual love of dairy products from her pledge to treat me to ice cream. When she’d offered to teach me to skate, I’d realized that my courtship had been scoring me points.
So I’d taken a chance and offered to teach her knife-play with the rubber weapons I’d impulsively purchased for our clan. It had been a risky decision but had paid off. Her eyes sparkled. Her creamy skin gleamed with sweat. Her hair had escaped its ties and was damp and wild, teasing me with what she would look like after I’d brought her to ecstasy.
Jordan was a natural. Physically fit and with that agility and incredible instinct I’d observed in the human hockey team that had opposed us, she darted around, surpassing me with unexpected feints and attacks. My admiration for her grew by the second, and my hand-axe was solid with approval.
A female…woman that used every wile and advantage to win against an opponent? I didn’t think I could love her any more, but tonight Jordan had won my heart and soul.
Once more, she dove forward into my arms. She’d employed this tactic so many times before and succeeded as she always had. I wrapped my arms around her, reveling in the softness of her against me, the sinewy muscles, the fragile bones in my embrace.
So delicate. So fierce. I didn’t know if it was the mate bond or not, but I could not imagine ever spending my life with another.
I felt the jab of the rubber knife into my back and couldn’t help but smile at her cleverness. She’d declared me dead, and even though I’d protested that it would take more than a few stabs to kill me, she was right. I was dead. I was hers for the taking, my very life in her soft hands.
I pulled back, a shudder coursing through me. “I would be honored if you would share my furs.”
Jordan tilted her head, eyeing me quizzically.
“I want to take you to my bed and lay you upon my furs,” I explained. “But I cannot do this without your permission and consent. If you allow, I will show you my dedication to giving you pleasure. I want you to be my fem—woman. And I hope that my skills on my furs will convince you that you will be the first in my every thought, that I will put your wants and needs above the mountains, the heavens, and the land.”
Her eyes widened, her pupils darkening to the point that her eyes appeared nearly black.
“Yes. Consent. Full consent. I am enthusiastic and eagerly willing to share your furs,” she said in a breathless whisper.
With a growl, I scooped her into my arms and lifted her into my embrace. Then I tossed her over my shoulder.
She burst out laughing. “I was thinking this was a bride-carry, but it’s turned into me being carted off like a warrior’s prize.”
I hesitated, shifting my grip on her. “Is that unacceptable for an orc to do to a woman?”
She raked her nails across the skin of my back, hard enough for me to feel it, but light enough that she would not draw blood. “No. Take me to your furs, Ozar. And let’s show each other the pleasure we can give and receive.”
I hauled her into my bedroom, restraining myself enough to lay her gently on my fur-covered bed. Straddling her body, I gently removed her shirt and frowned at the seamless, lacy device wrapped around her breasts.
Jordan let out a breathy laugh and reached behind her back. “It clasps in the back. Then slides off my shoulders.”
She did just that, releasing a pair of treasures that made my breath catch in my throat. Orc females…women, were known for large breasts that overflowed an orc’s palms. Jordan’s were small and firm. They curved upward with dark rose-colored nipples and a faint network of blue veins showing through the pale skin.
With a cool fingertip, she traced a line across my collarbone and down my sternum to tug at my waistband. “Take these off.”
I obeyed, scooting off the bed to drop my pants and free my hand-axe before climbing back on the mattress to straddle her. “Your turn.”
I wasn’t about to let her up, so I took charge. Unbuttoning and unzipping her pants, I slid them off her hips only to realize I hadn’t yet removed her footwear.
Jordan giggled. “Let me—”
“No.” I fumbled around the tall boots, finally finding the zipper and removing them one at a time. Then I proceeded to take off her pants and her socks. Then the gorgeous blue lace garments that were the only fabric remaining between me and her soft skin.
“You’re gorgeous,” she murmured, running a hand down my chest once I’d made my way back onto the bed.
She was gorgeous, all creamy skin and lean muscle. I traced a finger across her collarbone, then leaned forward to kiss her. Not the slightest bit shy, Jordan gripped my waist with her hands, then wrapped her legs around my hips. My kiss deepened as I invaded her mouth with my tongue. But there was so much more of Jordan that I wanted to taste, that I wanted to touch. Breaking off my kiss, I brushed my tusks along her cheeks, nuzzling her as I inhaled her warm scent. Then I kissed down the soft skin of her neck, my tongue gently tasting her.
Her legs tightened around me and she lifted her hips off the bed, wiggling in an attempt to align herself with my hand-axe.
“No. Not yet.” I’d meant that to be teasingly stern, but instead my breathy voice came out as pleading instead.
She laughed, but lowered her hips, her hands exploring my waist and abdomen as I made my way down her body, taking in her taste, her scent, and the texture of her skin.
With my hand on the small of her back, I pulled her close and knelt between her legs. She gasped as my tongue traced her slit, arching herself against me. Slowly, I explored her, noting every reaction and memorizing her most sensitive spots as well as whether those areas preferred a firm or feather-light touch. The taste of her was intoxicating, but it was her gasps and whimpers that drove all other thoughts from my mind but to bring her joy, to make her come against my tongue and fingers.
“Ozar!” She squirmed against me, arching her back. “I’m so close. Please. Please.”
There was no denying her. Without hesitation, I moved my mouth to her nub, and swirled it with my tongue, licking and tasting. Then with my tongue on her clit, I plunged into her depths with my fingers, curling them slightly as I moved them in and out. She moaned, her legs shaking, tightening against the sides of my head. Then her muscles tightened around my fingers and with a strong pull of my mouth against her nub, the orgasm rolled through her. She shattered beneath me with a cry.
I paused, not wanting to overwhelm all the sensitive areas but anxious to make her come again. And again. I could do this all night. I could do this for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. She was so warm and wet, and even though my balls ached with need, I was satisfied.
“Grumem-esch-ach metanekan schlonakanap-tsknt,” I told her, meaning every word.
She blinked down at me, then reached her fingers to my shoulders, urging me up along her body. I complied, feeling myself throb as she kissed me, her hands skating along my hips before moving between us.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, stretching her arms to slide her fingers along the shaft of my hand-axe.
“I want you to come many more times before.” The protest wavered, my vision going white as her nimble fingers circled the head of my hand-axe.
“I want you inside me, and you’re too much of a gentleman orc to deny a woman what she wants.”
That saucy little smile on her face, her fingers on me, the smell of her sex surrounding me… She was right. I could never deny her what she wanted. Never.
So, I eased slowly into her, pulling out a little to tease her. At her protest, I slid all the way in until my pelvis touched hers. She clenched around me, her tightness, her heat embracing me.
I felt the strands of the mating bond strengthen, becoming ropes of steel that could never be broken. We were one. She was my mate. Mine.
My hands gripped her hips as I moved, slowly, then faster as she urged me on. Her hands gripped my waist, firmly at first, then with a frantic pressure that drove her nails into my skin.
Her moans, whimpers, breathy incoherent words intensified my already wild desire for her. With a final, erratic thrust, we both slid over the edge. The world around me disappeared, and all I knew was her—my love, my mate, the one who would forever hold me, body, heart, and soul.
Chapter 18
Jordan
Ilay there, spent and drowsy, floating in a haze of affection and sexual bliss, curled up in Ozar’s arms. I snuggled against his chest, breathing in his scent, then traced the big scar across his ribs. The muscles jumped under my light touch, and I smiled to know he was ticklish there.
“How did you get this?” I asked, my voice low and husky as though we were trying to be unnoticed, hiding away from the world.
“In a battle against a minotaur clan that was attempting to take the western section of our territory.” His hand gently caressed my back. “I had defeated five of them and was fighting two more. When I turned to block a sword strike, the other minotaur tried to stab me with his horns. He would have gutted me, but I moved, and his horn tore me here along my ribs.”
I sucked in a breath, my mind going down a rabbit hole of what would have happened had he died that day. I never would have met him. I never would have experienced…this.
“It must have been horrible,” I said, my fingers still moving over the raised, bumpy flesh.
