The change in angle sent him even deeper, and I cried out as pleasure bordered on sweet pain. His coorails hit every sensitive spot inside me, their vibrations intensifyingas his arousal peaked. The coiling tension inside me wound tighter and tighter until I thought I was going to shatter from it.
“Riley,” he growled, his rhythm faltering. “You feel so good.”
His words pushed me over the edge. My orgasm crashed through me, my inner muscles clenching around his length as wave after wave of bliss washed over me. I called his name, the sound half-sob, half-prayer.
He followed me moments later, his powerful body shuddering as he found his release. I felt the hot pulse of him inside me, his cock throbbing against my sensitized walls, prolonging my pleasure.
We remained in place for a few moments before he carefully lowered himself onto the bed, taking me with him, still buried deep inside. His arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me back against his chest, and my body curled perfectly into his larger frame.
“Riley,” he said against my hair, his voice filled with something that sounded dangerously close to adoration. He traced idle patterns on my skin.
I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of him against me, the feeling of being completely enveloped by his strength. For the first time in years, I felt truly safe. Truly at peace.
A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, rolling silently down my cheek to dampen the pillow beneath me. I didn’t brush it away, didn’t want him to know it had fallen. Because even in this moment of perfect contentment, reality waited outside.
I’d have to leave him. No matter how this case resolved, they’d never stop hunting me. Eventually, I’d have to disappear again. Start over somewhere new, somewhere far from Lonesome Creek and the orc who had become the center of my world.
And when that day came, it was going to break me in ways I wasn’t sure I could survive.
Chapter 22
Riley
Warmth surrounded me, cocooning me in a bubble of contentment I hadn’t experienced in years. I burrowed deeper into the feeling, not wanting to open my eyes and break the spell. Dungar’s arm draped across my waist, his large body curved protectively around mine. His steady breathing tickled the back of my neck, and I found myself matching my inhales and exhales to his rhythm.
Last night played through my mind, and I smiled as I remembered his tenderness, his strength, and the way he’d looked at me like I was everything he’d ever need in life. My body still hummed with pleasant soreness, reminding me of every place he’d touched, every inch he’d claimed.
I stretched, careful not to disturb him, and that’s when I noticed something on my inner wrist. I lifted my arm, squinting in the early morning light filtering through the blinds.
A perfect circular pattern had been etched into my skin. I traced the design with my fingertip. It wasn’t a tattoo. It seemed to exist beneath my skin, as though it had always been there and had simply chosen this moment to reveal itself.
A mating mark. Like the ones Dungar’s brothers shared with their mates. Like the one that had appeared on Dungar’s wrist when we first touched.
“You see it.” Dungar’s voice, rough with sleep, rumbled in my ear. He wasn’t asking a question.
I rolled over to face him, finding his dark eyes already open, watching me with an intensity that stole my breath. “When did this happen?”
He reached for my wrist, cradling it gently in his much larger hand. His thumb brushed over the mark, sending shivers up my arm. “Sometime during the night.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “We’re true mates.”
“You don’t seem surprised.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did you know this would happen for me as well?”
“I hoped.” He brought my wrist to his lips, and his kiss on the mark made my entire body tingle. He sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist, revealing his broad green chest. “The mating bond is sacred to orcs. It can’t be forced or rushed. I let the fates decide if you’d wear it or not, but no matter what, we’re mates.”
I studied his face, taking in the quiet satisfaction in his eyes, the subtle pride in the set of his jaw. He looked like an orc who’d won the lottery and was trying not to gloat.
“You’re awfully smug about this,” I said, fighting a smile.
“Am I?” He raised an eyebrow, his hand sliding around to cup the back of my neck. “Perhaps I’m just pleased that the woman I’ve been wanting since the moment she walked into my office is now officially mine.”
“Yours, huh?” I poked his chest. “Pretty presumptuous, Sheriff.”
“Not presumptuous. Accurate.” He leaned closer, his eyes darkening. “Just as I’m yours. The mark makes it official, but my heart had already decided.”
My heart stuttered at his words. This beautiful, meticulous, gentle giant of an orc was mine. The thought both thrilled and terrified me. Despite the mark on my wrist, despite the way my entire being sang at his touch, the truth remained unchanged.
Eventually, I might have to leave to keep him safe.
But I couldn’t bear to say it. Not with his eyes so full of hope and happiness. Not when his hands were gently pulling me onto his lap, his lips finding mine in a kiss that felt like coming home.
