24. Katar

Reaching the front of the main room, I studied the wall between the windows. This would do.

I turned and leaned against it, trying not to jar the painting of an old male staring sternly at whoever came near.

"That's Mr. Merryweather," Bailey said, pointing. "Helga's father. Quite a stern individual according to Helga."

I studied his face. "He has a long nose."

"I suppose one might call it long."

"He's scowling."

Her lips curled up. "Because he knows you're about to lick my clit right below him."

"Oh, I definitely am." Taking her hand, I switched our positions, pressing her against the wall and claiming her ripe mouth. I devoured her, sucking on her tongue and doing all I could to draw in her moans. "It's been ages since we were together. I'm a starving orc, and I can't wait to consume you."

When I lifted her, pressing her against the flowery paper covering the wall beneath Mr. Merryweather, she clutched my shoulders, but not for long. Her hands roamed to my shirt, yanking it up to place her palms on my abs.

Breaking away from her mouth—a terrible thing right there—I stared down at her.

She gazed at me with so much heat, it burned through me. It centered in my cock, but what else was new?

"I'm going to suck on you," I growled.

"And I'm going to suck on you," she said with an equally ferocious growl.

My grin rose. "My mate."

"Your mate," she agreed.

"Not too soon?"

Her head tilted. "It's been a couple of days since we met, hasn't it? I believe we've backed off long enough."

"Perfect mate." I dove back to her mouth.

She moaned and writhed against the wall as I kissed her, and if we could just stay here forever, I'd be the happiest of orcs.

Placing her on the floor, I deftly slipped off her panties and lifted her skirt. Then, with another tusky grin, I dropped to my knees, lifted her legs onto my shoulders, and dove into her saturated goodness.