My eyes fly open, and I try to cover my breasts but Steve's hands stop me. His lust-fuelled gaze staring at my chest.
“Don't cover them,” he rasps.
“You stopped.” I don't want to sound needy, but I think even the strongest woman would feel nervous in this situation.
“You have pretty teats.”
“Breasts. I'm not a cow.”
“You would be a very beautiful cow, princess,” he purrs, lifting his hand to my waist, his thumb rubbing the underside of my breast, moving higher until it flicks across my nipple.
“These are breasts,” I say, cupping my hand over his, pausing his ministrations. “Cows have teats; they make milk. Or that's how they’re milked. I don't know, but these are breasts.”
“Do these have milk?” His eyes flare wide, and I see his throat move as he swallows. Gently, he picks me up, bringing my chest to his face, opening his mouth to take in one of my breasts. His tongue flicks my nipple as he softly sucks it. It's so unexpected, I take hold of his tusk to steady myself as Steve emits a low groan, his eyes fluttering closed. Each flick of his tongue sends a jolt of pleasure to my clit, and I relish this slow exploration of our bodies, moaning, pressing myself further into his mouth until he sucks on my entire breast.
“Airmatus?” Bellator's husky voice calls out from the other side of the room. Steve and I both looking over the partition as he flings an arm over his face.
“Oh my God,” I murmur. We’ve been over here touching bits while Bellator has been recovering from that shock collar. I'm officially a terrible person. Squirming, Steve reluctantly puts me down, and I dart around his body, running to Bellator's side.
Chapter 17
Rosalind
Back in the arena when I first saw him, I was entranced. He was all power and grace, mesmerising in how he moved and dominated the space.
I was frozen, but not by fear.
It was like my life flashed before my eyes, images of standing by their sides, of passion, of love, filling my heart so completely. It was like I finally felt at peace, that I was complete when he reached out and rubbed his calloused thumb across my cheek.
Shoving at his arm, he moves it from his face, resting it above his head.
“Airmatus is not here. I'm Rosie, and Steve is here too. How are you feeling? Do you need water?” His eyes crack open, and I see them moving as he takes in the room. I lean over, cupping his cheeks, careful not to touch his one tusk, the other a broken and jaggedstump.I wonder if it hurts him?We may be bonded, but we’re not at the tusk touching stage of this relationship.Yet.Bellator may not even like me like that. I still don't fully understand what the rules are. Bellator could find someone else to be bonded to. The thought makes my stomach turn. His arm wraps around my back, and I'm nudged forward, my balance lost as I crash into his face. I scramble, yelping, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” trying to push off him, but his arm holds me in place. A deep sigh of contentment comes from underneath me.
“It is a glorious day to wake up in our next life, brother. I would have crossed over sooner if each day started with teats pressed to my face.”
His voice is muffled as he talks into my flesh. He sounds happy, and I can't blame him. In my haste to run over, I forgot to put the straps of my dress up and am currently giving him the worst motorboat in the history of the earth. What is with these bloody orcs and teats,damn it. Breasts. I mean breasts. His arm falls away as I try to push off him, quickly covering myself.
“Are you well, brother?” Steve asks. He seems quieter with Bellator in the room, his presence not as big but no less valued. Standing, I move beside him, holding onto one of his fingers as Bellator props himself up on his elbows.
“I am well, brother. Better now that you found our bonded. You are breathtaking, red one.”
I’ve been called a lot of names as a redhead. Ginger, ranga, carrot top, but I can't say I've ever been called red one, my nose scrunching as I decide if I like it or not.
“This is Rosie, brother. Or princess.”
I smile up at him, grateful he read my thoughts so easily.
“Red one sounds like a… boil.” I laugh, making a mental note to stroke Steve's tusk later in thanks.
“Forgive me, bonded. I will not call you a hideous boil.” He moves from the bed, taking a knee in front of me so we are more equal in height. He still towers over me, but I appreciate the gesture.
“Do you know what a boil is? You know what, don't worry. This is going swimmingly, isn’t it? Teats and boils. What better way to meet your bonded,” I say, rolling my eyes to myself.
Three sharp knocks to the door has Bellator picking me up and darting to the far side of the room, shielding me from whoever is knocking.
“I can walk, you know,” I sniff.
“I will never gamble with you, Rosie. Steve and I have been blessed to find our bonded which means you have become the single most important thing in my life.” Dropping me to the floor, never once does he take his eyes from the door while Steve opens it, waving another red and gold envelope as he gives a handful of coins to whoever delivered it.
