Chapter 12

Louisaglared at the closed door for a moment too long, her breaths heaving hard, her hand clamping tightly to the warm strength within it. To… Ulfarr's hand.

Right. This. Louisa twitched and blinked back toward him, toward this huge, handsome, highly alarming orc. Just sitting here on her bed, holding her hand, and watching her with wary, uneasy eyes. As if he still wasn't at all sure of her, either.

Butthey could do this. Right? Louisa had to do this, she wanted to do this, to gain her freedom, to escape LordScall…

Soshe attempted a smile down toward Ulfarr, though it still felt shaky, not quite her own. "Gods, Killik is enraging, isn't he?" she said, her voice strained. "I'd love nothing more than to steal those daggers of his, and throw them down the nearest latrine. Or a muddy flooded well, maybe."

Shewinced even as she said it — gods, what if complaining about Killik was crossing a line somehow — but oh, that was a faint, fleeting warmth in Ulfarr's eyes, a brief curve of his mouth. "Ach, this would hurt him more than aught else, I ken," he replied, in his low, rumbling voice. "ThoughI ought to warn you against this, for he might next throw you into the latrine also."

Louisa'srelieved laugh bubbled up on its own, her shoulders slightly relaxing. "Of course he would, the utter bastard," she said, with a wry grin toward Ulfarr's face. "I can't imagine what it must be like co-parenting with him. You must have the patience of a saint."

She'dagain meant it as a joke, perhaps just wanting to see Ulfarr smile again, to hear his lovely deep voice. But instead, his big body stiffened on the bed, his eyes wary again, his fingers spasming against hers.

"Killik… spoke to you of this?" he asked, in a tone she couldn't quite read. "Of… our son?"

Louisaswallowed, and gave what she hoped was a dismissive shrug. "Not in detail," she said quickly. "But he did mention that you weren't able to have sons of your own, so you ended up adopting together instead."

Shewas watching Ulfarr too carefully now — would he argue any of that, or had he perhaps not wanted her to know about his son? And yes, something dark had indeed passed across his eyes — but then he nodded, his breath slowly exhaling.

"Ach, we have had our son for two summers now," he replied. "His name is Sune, and he is now fourteen summers old. He is a quick, clever Skai, but just as stubborn and headstrong as his strike-father — as Killik, you ken."

Ashe'd spoken, his voice had softened again, his eyes glimmering with unmistakable affection, with pride. Enough that something convulsed in Louisa's throat, twinged low in her belly. "Well, I'm sure he's lucky to have you," she said. "And you're lucky to have him, too."

Shecouldn't quite hide the wistfulness in her voice, and Ulfarr's head tilted as he looked at her, not unlike the way he'd looked at Killik earlier. "You have no young of your own, then?" he asked. "I cannot smell this upon you, but my scenting —"

Hegrimaced and rubbed at his nose, but his eyes were intent on Louisa, waiting for her answer. And the air suddenly felt too hot, too thin, and Louisa jerked a shrug, a shaky wave of her hand. "No, no children," she said thickly. "Though in truth, it was for the best, because my late husband was a cruel, vicious old degenerate who only cared about himself. And any child cursed with him as a father would have ended up —"

Gods, she couldn't even say it, but there was a grim, surprising comprehension in Ulfarr's eyes as he nodded. "Ach, I follow," he said, quiet. "I ken this was the hand of our father Skai-kesh upon you. His blessing."

Oh. That name sounded familiar — he'd mentioned it before, and it had to be some kind of deity, right? And though the idea of an unknown orc deity blessing Louisa with childlessness was utterly laughable, she found her breath exhaling, her hand squeezing against Ulfarr's still-clasping fingers. As if in… solidarity. In gratitude.

Andperhaps he felt it too, his warm hand drawing hers a little closer, as if he wanted her closer, too. And it was too easy to follow it, to lean into his strength, into that widening space between his spread knees. Into the rich, sweet scent that hung and whispered all around him, inviting her to draw in long, deep lungfuls of it. Gods, he smelled good, he looked good, and his thighs bracketing hers were so solid, warm, safe…

Hewas still studying her with intent, watchful wariness, and his hand slowly guided hers back to his mouth. So he could press a soft, careful kiss against her skin, even as his eyes kept searching hers. Seeking, perhaps, for any sign of hesitation, or reluctance, or fear.

Butthere was only a deep, convulsive shiver, rippling up Louisa's spine, escaping in a ragged gasp from her mouth. And she could see Ulfarr's shoulders settling, could feel his own unsteady exhale, as he kissed her hand again. Lingering longer this time, his lips warm, his tongue brushing light and soft. As if he truly wanted to taste her, to treasure her, to savour every slow, shaky breath.

Itwas Louisa who turned her hand over this time, wanting to feel that warm tongue seeking into her palm, trailing up the inside of her wrist. And yes, yes, it was there, gentle and eager and bizarrely, impossibly intimate. An orc, sitting here in her bedroom, lavishing her with his lips and tongue, his nose brushing up against her dress' sleeve. Feeling so, so good, fluttering Louisa's eyes closed, tilting her head back, sinking her into…

Ahand. A strong, unfamiliar male hand. Touching her, gripping powerfully at her hip, as if —

Louisayelped and staggered backwards across the room, her own hands flailing, clutching at her hip, at where there was — nothing. Nothing, no hand, no pain, no creeping sickening lord husband.

Only— she gulped for air, briefly squeezed her eyes shut — the orc. The orc she'd invited into her bedroom. The orc she'd wanted to kiss her, to touch her. And the orc who had already raised both hands between them, palms out, his face hunted and pale.

"F-forgive me," he rasped, a sharp scrape in his throat. "I ought not — I did not wish to — I am — sorry, I —"

Ohgods, no no no, and Louisa flapped her hands, whipped her head back and forth. "P-please, it's nothing," she gasped back. "I'm only — nervous, that's all. It's been a long time, and I'm just not used to —"

Shewinced, shook her head again, and made a desperate attempt at a smile toward Ulfarr's face. But his mouth was wavering, twisting, and his eyes looked even more hunted than before, almost… afraid.

"Killik," he said, low and bitter. "He… did he truly bribe you to this, after all? Or trick you, mayhap? Threaten you?"

Acold, helpless misery flashed up Louisa's spine, and she lurched a step back toward him, still shaking her head. "No! No, I mean, yes, he did offer to help me with the debts, but" — she drew down more air — "I've been wanting something like… this. Like you. For a long time. And when we met today, you were so lovely, and kind, and — and handsome —"

Goodgods, she wasn't truly saying this, spouting all this to an orc she'd just met? But yes, yes, damn it, she'd said it, she'd made it into stark, shameful truth between them. She wanted this. Gods, she wanted this. She wanted to drown all the horrible memories of LordScall in this, she wanted to find even a few moments' peace in this, with this handsome gentle orc in her bed. And she'd have wanted it even without the coin, without the agreement, or the ten nights. And for an instant, she silently cursed Killik for not just asking, for making it into this horrid awkward mess…

Butbefore her, Ulfarr was staring at her again, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You — you have this all wrong," he replied, his voice cracking. "I am not any of these, LadyLouisa, I am —"

ButLouisa couldn't bear it, not for another instant, and before she could stop it, she hurled herself the rest of the way toward him. Toward his lap, oh gods, she was straddling an orc's lap, throwing her shaky arms around his neck —

"Just — call me Louisa," she choked. "And just — touch me. Please."

Butwait. Wait, no, what was she doing, what if Ulfarr didn't want this from her, either — and curse it, he'd again frozen to stillness beneath her, his eyes shocked on her face. And far too late, Louisa winced and made to scramble backwards again, what the hell was wrong with her, what must he think of her…

"Wait," Ulfarr breathed, and in a swift movement, his hand swiped for hers, caught it in his grip. "Wait, Louisa."

Louisainstantly obeyed, now hovering rigid and awkward over his thighs. And watching, her breath catching, as Ulfarr again raised her hand, and brought it to his mouth. His lips brushing against her skin, kissing soft and gentle, but eager, too. Still wanting her. Still wanting this.

Oh. The relief dipped and swirled, shuddering Louisa closer against him. Her hand slipping back over his shoulder, feeling the solid strength of him beneath his tunic, while her other hand shivered and tingled beneath his slow, sweet kisses. Kisses that were now trailing up her wrist, up to her sleeve —

Louisashuddered again, her eyes fluttering — and in another wild flash of desperate compulsion, she yanked at the sleeve, at the dress. Undoing the buttons, jerking the dress up and off over her head, and tossing it away. Leaving her clad in only her flimsy shift, straddling an orc's lap, an orc —

Butthe orc was staring again, and — groaning. Groaning, inhaling deep, as his hungry kisses found Louisa's bare shoulder, scattering out furious flares of sensation and heat. But his hands still weren't touching her, they were clamped to tight fists at his sides, as if trying to keep away from her —

AndLouisa was losing her mind, she was, as she gripped his heavy hand, and yanked it to her hip. To exactly the same place he'd touched her earlier — yes — and this time, she moaned as his fingers settled soft and possessive, and his other hand carefully came to her other hip, too. Slowly spreading wider, and then drawing her closer. Wanting more.

Itwas too easy to comply, to hitch forward on his lap, deeper into his warm solid strength. Into where his hot mouth was now kissing further up her shoulder, and she ducked her face into his neck, inhaling deep. Gods, he smelled so good, sweet and musky and masculine, and his hands felt so good too, now tentatively stroking up her back. While something large and rigid swelled against the front of his trousers, against Louisa's own too-close groin, and she gasped at the feel of it, the truth of it. And then quivered all over as his hot mouth settled into the crook of her shoulder, his kisses deepening, until —

Somethingsharp. Teeth. Scraping against her skin. AndLouisa again couldn't control the startled jerk of shock, the roll of churning panic in her belly. The silent shouting screeching of no, danger, run, LordScall—

Butwait, no, it was just him, just Ulfarr — but he'd already yanked backwards too. That hunted look flashing back through his eyes, his hands snapping away from her. And no, no, no, Louisa's own hands were fluttering at his face, needing him to stay, to stop looking like that, please —

"It's fine," she gasped. "Really, it is. I liked it."

ButUlfarr still looked uneasy, afraid, his eyes shifting miserably on her face. And damn it, Louisa couldn't keep making this worse, and she hauled in a shallow breath, and attempted another smile toward him. Holding the smile as brightly as she could, though she knew it didn't reach her eyes.

"PerhapsI could just — touch you, then?" she ventured, desperately working to keep her voice light. "If you'd… be comfortable with that?"

Ulfarr'snod was jerky, instant, and that was surely relief in his eyes — so Louisa let out a shaky breath, and just began… touching. Sliding her hands over his broad shoulders, and then down his arms, smoothing over the coarse fabric of his tunic.

Hedidn't betray even a twitch, his eyes fixed on Louisa's face, so she kept stroking, kept her movements slow and careful. Learning the size and strength of his powerful arms, his solid shoulders, his firm upper chest. And then the smooth skin of his neck, the rasp of stubble on his taut jaw, even the puffy mangled mess of his ear.

"This looks — painful," she murmured, as she gently traced a finger up to the ear's pointed tip. "Does it hurt?"

Ulfarrshook his head, wincing as the movement poked his ear at her finger. "No," he said, rough. "Not now."

Not now. Suggesting that it had hurt, at one point, and Louisa compulsively bent closer to his ear, so she could… kiss it. The touch of lips brief, only for a breath, but Ulfarr still shuddered beneath it, his lashes fluttering. As if… as if he liked it.

Andthat was something, something to help them find their way again, please — so Louisa kissed his ear again, as her hands slowly, tentatively traced back down his front. Over where she could feel the rigid jut of his nipples, hard beneath his tunic, and the relative softness of his thick belly. And then down, down, toward his trousers, toward…

Hertrembling hand brushed over his groin, so light as to almost not be a touch at all — but then her fingers spasmed, her eyes snapping downwards, as a sharp, sudden misery fired deep into her chest.

Becausehe was… soft. Slack. Uninterested. Uninterested in the half-dressed woman touching him, kissing him, welcoming him into her bed.

Oh. Oh, gods. The heat was already swarming Louisa's face, as the bitter memories of LordScall kicked and surged, sweeping dark and devastating behind her eyes. It's not my fault, is it? he would demand at her, his sharp voice breaking. If you'd dressed nicer, if you took more time on your looks, this wouldn't be a problem —

Butback then, Louisahad taken the time. She'd followed fashions and dressmakers, she'd outfitted herself as well as she could, she'd curled her hair, buffed her fingernails, worn costly cosmetics and jewels — and she'd been a dozen years younger, too. Whereas now, she was here in a shabby old shift, with her scarred body and silver-streaked hair, foolishly trying to seduce an orc who was —

Graspingher hand. Squeezing it tight, and roughly yanking it back to his mouth. Kissing it again, oh, with just as much frantic urgency as she felt. "Forgive me, Louisa," he croaked. "I only — cannot always control this, ach? It is not —"

Hisbreath heaved powerfully through his chest, his eyes glimmering with shame, with misery. As if he truly regretted this, as if he wanted to stay, to keep trying. And he wasn't LordScall, he wasn't, she needed to forget LordScall, LordScall was dead —

Louisadesperately fought for breath, for clarity, please, please. And she managed a jerky nod, and even another empty pasted smile on her mouth, as she gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

"It's absolutely fine," she said, too quickly. "No trouble whatsoever at all. And hey" — her voice rose as her blinking eyes suddenly caught sight of a familiar item on the bed — "we can always use that if we need it, can't we?"

Itwas that huge, obscene stone replica, still lying there innocuously on the blanket, just where Ulfarr must have left it, after Killik had given it to him. AndLouisa had only meant it as a reassurance, or perhaps a joke, anything to make this disaster better, please —

Butit had been stupid, so stupid, because the instant Ulfarr glanced toward the stone, his big body — flinched. Froze. The colour fully fading from his face, the light draining from his eyes. Making him look haggard, almost ill, as his throat convulsed, his mouth painfully contorting, as if —

Asif he was about to be sick. As if Louisa had gone and kicked him in the groin, too, and then stood back, and pointed, and laughed.

"I'm — sorry," she gulped, whipping her head back and forth. "I didn't mean — it was only a —"

Butit was too late, because Ulfarr's hand clapped against his mouth, his body lurching sideways, up, away. Off the bed entirely, oh gods, he was — he couldn't —

"Forgive me," he rasped, without looking at her, his voice muffled from his hand still over his mouth. "I — cannot. I am… sorry."

Andwith those awful words echoing through the air, he staggered toward the door, and left.