The Gardener and The Orc

Chapter 22

[Smutty chapters are 4, 5, 7, 11-14, 17, and 19-22 (this is 22). You can skip around to them, I won't judge! There is smut after all the feels at the beginning of this chapter, followed by some fluff, sandwiched in between more smut. Dark Side by Mia Vaile was on repeat when I wrote this one if you're into that!]

"Say you love me, my pet," he whispered into her neck, closer and closer to filling her once more, his bollocks twitching just before finding his relief.

"I yield," she gasped out rather than obey, even if it was just another lie. He withdrew from her entirely, his seed instead spilling out onto her lower back as he released the grip he had on her body. The orc rose until he stood towering above her and stepped back to give her space. Lilith peeked over her shoulder reluctantly and found his face unreadable, his eyes fixed upon the mess of his hot white leavings upon her skin.

-- -- --

She had expected maybe hurt, anger, frustration, perhaps even rage, but not the blank emotionless stare that could not even meet her eyes. She slid from the wide stone ledge until she was standing in the hot spring water once more, tugging her torn silk shirt back down and closing the gap of the fabric at her chest to hide the pebbled nipples of her pert breasts. She spun to face him, waiting for him to meet her gaze -- do anything, say anything.

His lips pressed into a grim line, but otherwise his expression stayed rigid, turning his head just a fraction to peer past her towards the arched stone doorway that led out of her bathing chambers. "Don't go," she breathed out, realizing she was still panting from their encounter, her cheeks burning red.

His exhale was a mix of a sigh and a low growl, closing his eyes for a long pause then finally looking at her once they were opened again, silently bidding her to explain -- why should he stay?

Lilith's brows arched together furrowing, her arms crossing in front of her chest, almost hugging herself. She didn't know how to put into words the reason she hated saying 'love,' how it wasn't even a romantically-motivated hang-up...Just echoes of the same old hurt experienced time and time again, so tangible it made her chest tight as if her lungs were caught in a vice. It was the same reason she couldn't stand it when he left, and even that was impossible to explain -- faith-shattering abandonment so frequently played out that the way she showed her hurt and how she healed was a well-practiced act, rehearsed over and over, perfected over two decades of loneliness at the hands of an absent narcissist meant to be her guardian.

Gareth's nostrils flared as if scenting the panicked haze, his expression finally softening, the tension in his muscles easing. The sudden change in his demeanor was both relieving and a small blow to her pride, making her avert her eyes. He backed away from her and found an in-water ledge along the perimeter pool to sit until the water came up to his chest, watching her in silence until she was ready to speak.

"I don't use that word lightly. I've learned the hard way that I can't love someone just because I am supposed to -- or because you tell me we're meant to be," her mouth twisted wryly, leaning her back against the stone behind her so the water rose to her shoulders while standing. "If I fall for you, it will be because of your actions -- because you earned it -- not because of the way you smell or taste, not because mutual attraction or being 'mates' is convenient." She struggled with the word 'mate,' glaring at the swirling water to her side. "And if you think you love me already, I cannot accept that, I've not earned that. I cannot see what you see so easily. But that doesn't mean I hate you or want you to go," or to give up, to stop trying? She wasn't sure.

She ventured a glance up at him, finding the orc focused on her face in wordless consideration. She'd never had such a frank conversation with someone pursuing her. "You must think me cold-hearted. I promise I don't have ice in my veins," she laughed humorlessly. "I have ambitions that don't include dropping everything for love, but that does not mean I don't want...or don't have the capacity..." she trailed off, his eyes meeting hers. She couldn't finish her thought, it was so foreign -- she couldn't fathom someone loving her, which felt equal parts pathetic and undeniable. But she managed her mask of emotion well, looking merely uncertain rather than pitiable.