Chapter 10

Ten

Fairlie

When I reach Osric’s house, I press the doorbell and immediately hear footsteps approaching from the inside. The door swings open, and there stands Osric, his broad shoulders filling the frame. Without a word, he sweeps me up into his arms. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both passionate and tender.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice a deep rumble that rolls through me.

I laugh, my heart fluttering. “We’ve talked and texted every day, and it’s only been two days.”

“Just really like you, Sweetheart,” he says, setting me down, his eyes softening as he looks down at me.

“I really like you too,” I whisper.

He takes my hand, his grip firm, and leads me inside. The house is cozy and inviting, with the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. I drop my bag by the couch as we walk straight to the heart of the home, where the kitchen table is set for three. A pan on the stove sizzles, filling the room with a mouthwatering aroma.

“I hope you like meat,” Osric says, glancing over his shoulder at me with a playful grin. “I’m making steak and shrimp with some crab rangoons.”

“Sounds amazing,” I reply, hopping up onto the counter to watch him, my eyes fixed on his movements. “I’m not very picky, just not a huge fan of tomatoes in chunks.”

“Noted.” He chuckles, turning back to his cooking.

As Osric works his culinary magic, I can’t help but smile. The kitchen is large but cozy, filled with the sounds of sizzling and the occasional clink of utensils. We chat easily, sharing stories and laughter, and a sense of contentment I’ve not experienced in a long time settles in.

Suddenly, the scent of tangerine and musk reaches my nose, and I turn to see a striking woman entering the kitchen. Her presence is commanding, her beauty undeniable. She’s slightly shorter than Osric, though still tall, with skin that’s a rich emerald green and blonde hair pulled up into a high ponytail.

She walks straight to me, her smile warm and welcoming. “Hi, I’m Ovivia. This lug’s little sister. I’ve heard a lot about you, Fairlie.”

“I hope all good things,” I reply with a smirk as I shake her hand.

“All good,” Ovivia assures me with a wink before leaning against the counter next to where Osric is cooking. I can’t help but admire the striking resemblance between them. Despite the difference in their heights, they share similar features—a strong jawline and those captivating amber eyes. They clearly have good genes.

Ovivia asks about my work at the school, and I mention that I’m hoping to switch classrooms for my student teaching semester. She nods, sharing that her school recently decided to bring in more human teachers to balance the staff between monsters and humans. I make a mental note to inquire about student teaching opportunities there.

Osric plates the food, and we gather around the table to eat. The meal is delicious, and the conversation flows naturally until Ovivia throws a curveball.

“So, Osric mentioned you have questions about orc reproduction?” she asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I nearly choke on a shrimp, my eyes widening as I glance over at Osric. His face has gone a peculiar shade of pale green, and he’s glaring at his sister.

“I—I do,” I manage to stammer, feeling my cheeks flush. “We’re all adults here, right?”

“I’d hope so.” Ovivia laughs, clearly enjoying our discomfort.

“Well, we had sex, and we didn’t use protection. Your brother said I should be fine, so I’ve left it at that. Is there something I should know?” I ask.

Ovivia leans back in her chair, her expression serious now. “Orc sperm is very potent, and implantation happens almost instantly. I’d use protection from now on, just to be safe. And not human preventatives, you need something stronger.”

Osric growls, clearly frustrated. “Ovivia.”

“What? She asked, and I’m answering,” Ovivia says with a shrug. “It was one time, and I doubt she took the whole thing, so she should be fine. But she should know the risk.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, my mind racing as I turn to look at Osric.

“Were you going to tell me?” I huff, my eyes narrowing.

“I was,” Osric says, his voice softer now.

“When?” I cut him off, my frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Tonight,” he replies.

“Before or after we—” I stop myself, feeling a lump in my throat. “Before or after we fucked again?”

“Before,” he says, his voice shaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me when I asked?” I demand, standing up and dropping my silverware onto the table with a clatter.

“It didn’t matter to me.” He shrugs.

“What didn’t matter?” I struggle to keep my emotions in check.

“If you got pregnant,” he admits, his gaze steady. “If it happened, we’d deal with it. I want offspring.”

I stare at him, my mind racing. “We’ve had one date, Osric. What if I don’t want kids? What if I don’t want hybrid kids? Do I have a choice, or does that not matter either?”

I storm out the door to the front step, needing space to think. I sit down, the cool night air hitting my face. The door opens behind me, and I sense Osric’s presence before I even see him.

He sits beside me, his large frame dwarfing mine, yet there’s a softness in the way he moves. He sits down carefully, leaving just enough space between us so I don’t feel crowded, but close enough that I sense his warmth. His shoulders slightly hunch as if trying to make himself more approachable. Despite the tension swirling inside me, there’s something about the way he’s sitting—patient, unassuming—that puts me at ease.

"I like you," he says, his warm amber gaze catching my own. There's a sincerity in the way he looks at me that makes me almost want to melt. Almost.

"More than like you, if I'm being honest." He runs a hand through his hair, his jaw tensing. "Maybe even a bit on the obsessed side."

His words warm my heart, and despite the confusion, the idea that he thinks I’d be a sexy mom to his babies is strangely flattering.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice soft. “But we’ll be wrapping that up tonight. You better get a tarp from the garage, so we know it fits.”

He chuckles deeply. “You’re something else, Sweetheart.”

He picks me up effortlessly and carries me back inside, setting me down gently in my chair. Ovivia greets me with a warm smile as I return.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Thanks,” I reply, feeling a bit more at ease.

We finish our meal, bantering and chatting, and I find myself genuinely liking Ovivia. She’s a fascinating woman, and I wish I knew more about her so I could help her in some way. After dinner, we settle on the couch to watch Billy Madison. The evening drifts by comfortably, filled with laughter and a sense of belonging I’ve only felt with Merrin since my parents passed.

As the credits roll and the night grows late, I yawn, feeling the effects of the day catch up with me. Osric grabs my bag and leads me to his room, his hand warm in mine. Ovivia mumbles something about feeling funny and a bad piece of shrimp before heading to her room.

No sooner does the door to Osric’s room close than his lips are on mine, his kiss urgent and filled with the passion that’s been building between us.

He yanks my shirt up and over my head, tossing it aside with an almost primal urgency. His large, powerful hands find my hips, lifting me effortlessly and pressing me against the wall as his lips trail heated kisses down my neck.

“I don’t like that I upset you,” he murmurs against my skin, his tusks grazing the top of my right breast. The sensation is both thrilling and teasing, sending a shudder through me.

A breathy sigh leaves my lips. “You should have been honest. I at least could have gone and gotten a pill or something.”

“Human meds aren’t effective with orcs,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against my chest. “I don’t want to scare you or piss you off, Fairlie… but…I know you’re it for me.”

His hands slide between my back and the wall, and he skillfully pops the clasps on my bra, helping it slide down my arms and drop to the floor. My breath catches as his rough fingers graze my skin, igniting a fire of desire inside me.

Without hesitation, he sucks a nipple between his lips. His coarse tongue flicks and laps at the stiffened bud, sucking with a fervor that makes my knees weak. I moan, the sound escaping me before I can stop it. “How? How can you know already?”

He pulls away with a soft, wet pop, resting his forehead against mine. His eyes lock onto mine.

“I just do,” he whispers, his gaze sincere. “You’re beautiful. Funny, but know when to be serious. Kind, but don’t take any shit. You’re perfect. My sister said you’re my girlfriend. But I think that’s something you have to consent to. Right?”

His touch is gentle yet commanding as he grabs one of my thighs, wrapping it around him. He does the same with the other, picking me up and carrying me over to his bed.

He sets me down carefully, then falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. His hands tug my leggings down with a deliberate slowness that drives me wild with longing.

“So what do you think, Sweetheart?” he asks, his voice husky with need. “You want to be mine?”

Before I can respond, he shoves my thighs apart, and his tongue plunges through my folds with an intensity that makes me gasp. “Fuck!”

“That’s not the right answer.” He chuckles against my skin, his breath hot on my core.

“Yes!” I pant, my voice a desperate plea. “I want to be yours.”