Page 29 of Orc'd At A Wedding
Oh God.
"So no," he continues, his voice rough and absolutely certain. "I'm not going to change my mind. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and regret this. The only thing I regret is that I wasted an entire day pretending I didn't want to kiss you every time you looked at me."
A broken laugh escapes my throat, somewhere between a sob and a gasp.
"You're really not acting right now?"
"No."
"This is real?"
"Yes."
I search his face, looking for any hint of deception, any crack in the armor—but all I see is raw, blazing honesty.
He means it.
He actually means it.
The realization crashes over me like a wave, and suddenly I'm kissing him again, my hands fisting in his hair, my legswrapping around his waist as I pour every ounce of fear and relief and desperate want into the kiss.
He groans against my mouth, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs, hauling me closer, and the marble counter digs into my spine but he's kissing me like I'm oxygen and he's been drowning.
"Bliss," he rasps against my lips. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me."
"I want you," I gasp. "God, Olog, I've wanted you since you walked into that lobby and looked at me like I was the only person in the room."
He makes a rough, possessive sound deep in his chest, and his mouth trails down my throat, his tusks grazing my skin in a way that makes me shiver.
"You were the only person in the room," he growls. "You've been the only person I've seen all weekend."
His hands slide higher, pushing the silk of my dress up my thighs, and I arch into him, my fingers digging into the solid muscle of his shoulders.
"Someone could walk in," I manage breathlessly.
"I locked the door."
"Right. Good. That's, oh gods?—"
His mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear, and coherent thought abandons me entirely.
"We should—" I gasp. "We should probably get back to the dinner."
"No."
"People will notice we're gone."
"Olog—"
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes molten silver, his breathing ragged.
"Do you want to go back out there?" he asks roughly. "Back to your toxic family and your smug ex and all those people who make you feel like you have to be someone you're not?"
I gaze at him, my heart pounding.
"No," I admit. "I really, really don't."
A slow, predatory smile curves his mouth.
