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Verrick grimaces slightly, then goes back to dousing crystals. “I do not dislike all of them.”
Hmm. What could he mean by that? Ignoring his vague statement for now, I say, “Then what are your origins?” I ask. “Or am I being too rude? I am merely curious.”
He chuckles lightly and says, “I do not mind you asking. But it would be rude, yes, in mixed company. I imagine it would be similar to someone asking you why your skin color is different from other Adrikians.”
“Oh,” I feel my cheeks heat. I fielded many questions like that as a child and still get discourteous stares sometimes. Having a Sheaothan mother, even one who was princess in her own country, makes me an oddity among the nobles. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”
At the last crystal, he stops, then leans back and stretches, his muscles moving in a hypnotic way that makes my mouth go dry. He says, “Come, feel here,” gesturing to the tattoo that stretches from shoulder to shoulder over his pectorals.
I step forward, feeling the moment charge with an intimate energy. It is the first time that he has invited me to touch him, Iam not unaware of that fact. The act feels heavy with meaning.
Hesitantly, I smooth my fingertips over the ink of his tattoos. Surprisingly, I meet a rough texture. My eyes fly up to his.
“Scales?” I ask.
Verrick nods. “Yes. My father was an orc, but my mother was a siren.”
I shudder. Sirens are huge, bigger than the average humanoid, and dangerous. They often lure travelers to their deaths for sport.
“No wonder you can see in the dark, since sirens must see in the deep ocean. But your father was either very brave or very foolish,” I say, stroking my fingers along his tattoos again. The texture is mesmerizing. I yearn to reach and feel the rest of his skin, beyond these patches of scales, but I do not dare. He hasn’t invited further touch.
“He was both. Perhaps more obsessed than foolish though,” he replies, his hand coming up and capturing mine, staying my movement. But now we are holding hands. The warmth from his grasp travels up my arm and into my body, where I feel myself prime for his touch. If only he were not so stubborn.
“Obsessed?” I ask, a little breathlessly, resisting the urge to squirm. He’s still holding my hand.
“My father saw my mother on a voyage and leapt over the side of the ship to find her. She didn’t want an ugly orc and tried to kill him instead. They struggled for hours, my father never giving up. Orcs are stronger than most and hold their breath for long periods of time, so her efforts to drown him were unsuccessful. Eventually, they landed on a small island and, rather than continue the struggle, my mother abandoned him there. But he camped on the beach for months before she came back. She was surprised that he had waited for her. Most mortals die or escape sirens. Very few actually continue their pursuit. But my father did. They started a strange and fast courtship, then she disappeared again. Three months later, he saw her for the last time, when she came, handed him a baby, and leftwithout a word. He waited for a year after that before returning to Orik, but she never came back.”
“How terrible for him,” I murmur, “To want her so much and be treated as so disposable.”
Verrick merely shrugs. “It is not much different from other races. No one wants an orc.”
“That,” I say sternly, “is simply not true. What about King Rognar and Queen Adalind? They are true mates now.”
“Exceptions exist to every rule.”
“Well,” I say, summoning up my courage, “What about me?”
This makes him look startled. He looks down and seemingly notices for the first that he is still holding my hand, but still doesn’t release it. Then he takes my gaze with his own and says, “You do not know what you are asking for.”
“Yes, I do,” I retort, “I asked last night, and I will ask again. I wantyou.In my bed, satisfying each other's appetites, with no pretense. It’s quite simple.”
He leans down close, his eyes still on me, leaning in so that our breath is mingling. Mine hitches for a moment and my core clenches.
“If we were in each other’s beds, little one, nothing would be simple.”
Oh.Oh.I feel myself becoming wet at his words. That squirmy, eager feeling lights low in my belly and I tilt my head slightly, a brazen invitation.
“Show me.”
A moment passes. Then two. Just when I think he will turn away, his lips are suddenly on mine, and a deep hunger roars to life. His hands are suddenly around me, pulling me close and mine are around him, yearning, greedy things pulling at his clothes, finding his hair, stroking and touching.
With no effort, he lifts me, pulling me closer, a hand lifting me up under my buttocks, splitting my legs so that my core finds his hardness. I wrap my legs around him, determined to grind against him, when I am suddenly falling through the air, landingon the mattress with awhumpand Verrick is across the tent, breathing hard in the dim light.
“Wha—?”
“No!” he harshly breathes. “No, temptress. I swore I would keep away from you and I will. Do not do that again.”
“But, Verrick, I don’t—”
