Even as I bitch to myself about how gross it feels to have my hand on a goat’s tit, I shiver a little when Orgath’s giant hands enclose mine. I’ve been having some pretty intensely naughty dreams starring my orc, and it just makes me all the more aware of him every time he comes close to me. Down, girl! His hands put pressure on mine as he tells me exactly the way to compress the teat to draw milk from it. I’m both appalled and fascinated as piss-warm milk jets out into the bucket.
It can’t be that easy. I narrow my eyes suspiciously at the goat, but she has turned her head away from me and is innocently munching on a bit of hard straw. As if I’m going to fall for that. Still, it doesn’t seem like she’s going to kick over the bucket, so I continue to express the milk even after Orgath withdraws his hands with an approving rumble. I have to admit that sound makes learning to do chores at least a little worthwhile.
“See, you have it. Well done,” he praises.
“Yeah, I suppose,” I agree reluctantly. Still, I make a silent promise to myself to keep a close eye on the demon goat if this is going to be a regular chore for me around here.
Soon enough, the pail is full, and Orgath explains the process of making cheese as we haul the milk back inside. Between me and the stone floor, it sounds revolting, especially without refrigeration. Not that humans haven’t been eating cheese for centuries before refrigeration was devised, but the thought still makes my stomach wobble like a squirrel drunk on moonshine.
But the cheese-making lesson gets put on hold due to the surprising fact that we have company. Orgath is not happy about the company either. He pulls me to the far side of the room, putting as much distance between me and the stranger as possible, before placing himself mid-room between us. The stranger chuckles darkly, but Orgath doesn’t so much as twitch in response. His back is rigid with tension, so I decide to keep silent for a change.
The dude is tall—as tall as Orgath, which is saying something, because most orcs seem slightly undersized next to him. This guy also has a mass of golden-brown muscle covered in a lattice of scars, none of which reach any higher than his shoulder. The part of me that has a death wish boldly observes that a few scars might actually improve the disaster he calls a face.
“Orgath,” he drawls, though his creepy yellow-green eyes never leave me.
“Lorf, this is a surprise,” Orgath says, his frown heavily creasing his brow. “What brings you to my cottage?”
Lorf, huh? So this is the asshole who killed Orgath’s family and took over? What a swell guy. With the way he curls his lip in disgust as he looks around our home, he looks like one in a million—the one you want to slap and give back. Our home may not be much, but it’s ours and I love every bit of it, from the broken stone by the doorway to the uneven flooring in the bedroom and the slightly leaning hearth in the common room. He isn’t allowed to look at our home like it’s beneath him to even be there. He’s more than welcome to leave.
Those words are on the tip of my tongue, but some sense of self-preservation picked that moment to intervene. Or maybe it’s one of the familial gods or blessed ancestors deigning to save my ass once more.
The chieftain offers a thin smile, his eyes narrowed in a predatory manner. Orgath doesn’t so much as flinch a muscle. If it weren’t for the slight concern I can detect in his posture, I would have taken him to almost look bored.
“I heard gossip around the village that you have taken a wife and I just had to come and meet your little female. A new clan-member is always of interest, wouldn’t you say? Word travels that she is a mixed-breed, but she certainly doesn’t appear to bear even the slightest hint of orc. So, what, then, is your wife, Orgath?”
“She is as I say,” is all Orgath replies, his expression unyielding.
Lorf purses his lips. “I don’t see any signs of mating on her, and it is common knowledge that you did not have a wedding feast, yet you are passing her off as your wife.” His nostrils expand as he inhales deeply, which I find terribly offensive that this moment. “She doesn’t smell of you either. What secrets are you keeping?”
“I do believe that is a human, chieftain,” says an oily voice from the corner nearest the door where he’d gone unnoticed up until now. A guy, smaller than your average orc, leans there against the wall, his eyes gleaming like those of a cat in the dark. He smirks at me and I immediately dislike him. His hide looks softer than any orc I have seen, even among females, and is unmarred with scars. Even his hair is carefully oiled into lank braids. I sure as hell hope he doesn’t touch me. It will take forever to get out the grease stains if he does.
The chieftain tilts his head and looks at me with crafty interest.
“A human, hmm. I don’t believe our folk have seen a human in generations. How did you end up with a human, Orgath?”
I can see that Orgath is subtly grinding his teeth but manages still to hold onto his temper.
“I found her alone in the mountains, Ov’Ge-side. I rescued her and brought her home with me.”
The chieftain seems momentarily distracted as he plays with a large medallion hanging around his neck, but it is a ruse. “Surely you do not think that you are worthy enough of an orc to keep for yourself such a rarity?”
Orgath shows the first sign of hostility. His long ears snap close against his skull and he growls threateningly, enough so that the chieftain’s escort pops up, warily fastening his eyes on him. “It matters not what any orc thinks. I saved her. She chooses to be safe in my keeping. It matters naught to anyone else. Anyone who attempts to forcibly remove her from my house against her will shall face not only my anger, but the anger of the orc females.”
Lorf scowls but retreats. “Perhaps. But things, as you know, change.” He then leans forward and say something low enough that I cannot hear it from my place at the other side of the room. Whatever it is, it is enough to make Orgath’s cloud over with anger. Lorf gives me a final lingering look and chuckles before moving out the door, followed by his lap-dog of an orc.
I look over at Orgath. “What was that he said?”
Orgath clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “It is nothing to be concerned about,” he grits out. He inhales deeply and blows out a long breath. “Come, let us prepare our evening meal, Sammi.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, but I do not believe him. Not for one second. That Lorf guy had a look of glee on his face before he left, and Orgath looks like he wants to kill something or someone. Whatever Lorf said, it couldn’t have been good.
***
Orgath
That disgraced so-called chieftain of our clan dared to challenge me in my own home. I cannot get over the insult. My home may be humble, but it is mine. And it is Sammi’s home too now. To even suggest that he could get away with stealing my female out from under me and violate the sanctity of our home infuriates me. That he knows loopholes to get around the orc females is beyond galling. His last words linger in my brain.
“She is not your wife. How far do you think your protection will extend? Do you think that the females will not be soothed by this fact? It will take so little effort in the end to seize her at the opportune moment. Think on that, Exiled One.”
I gnash my teeth but try to keep my worry to myself. Sammi is staring after me in concern but I do not wish to worry her. Nor is it worth breaking a tusk over. If Lorf comes for her, I will have to be prepared. I think to the bits of claws, bones and gems I have begun over the last couple nights to string together. One thing may solve itself soon, if Sammi accepts the gift.
For once, Sammi doesn’t argue. She follows me to the cupboards where I pulled out the dried meat from my hunt and she digs through bags of tubers to find vegetables for our stew. There is a loaf of bread with fresh butter. The butter is from the village, but the bread is Sammi’s accomplishment.
I smile to myself as I look upon the bread and remember her face flushed with pleasure this morning when she pulled it, unburnt, from the oven. Her first successful loaf. She celebrated for an hour, and
I could not help but laugh.
I will not lose my female. It had been a long time since I’ve had a reason to laugh before she came into my life. She brings me joy and holds my heart like none other. She looks at me and sees more than an intimidating pile of muscle or large tusks that appeal to females of my kind for their greater size bespeaking of virility and power. Sammi doesn’t notice these things. She looks beyond the surface, which is perhaps a good thing since she is accustomed to human men.
We prepare our stew and we play a game of bone dice as it cooks because she enjoys it. She has an unerring luck for games of chance. It is fortunate that we are not wagering else she would likely soon own all my wealth, not that I won’t lay it all at her feet anyway. As she wins another throw, her hands shoot up in the air in victory.
“Won again, orc. Maybe we should make this a bit more interesting.”
I frown in confusion and some of my feeling must be apparent on my face because she chuckles in delight.
“Maybe we can make a friendly wager on the next toss?” she says, her grin mischievous.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “I have plenty to wager with, but I seem to recall that I pulled you out of the snow without anything more on you than the clothes on your back.”
She sticks her delightful small pink tongue out at me.
“Perhaps,” I say after a moment, “you can wager something only you possess.”
Now she raises a slender eyebrow but her lips twitch with humor. “And what did you have in mind?”
I make pretense of thinking of it. “A kiss?”
She looks surprised for a moment and I almost retract the request before a grin appears on her face. “Are you sure that I won’t just throw the game so I can give you such a reward?”
I find myself smiling, pleased with her flirtatious manner, and my eyes become hooded with interest. “I would find that quite acceptable if you do, delfass-ki,” I murmur huskily.
She licks her lips and leans forward, her round breasts pushing against her tunic, making my cock stiffen from its regular half-hardened state in her presence.
“Your roll,” she whispers through those perfect plump lips.
***
Sammi
My pulse pounds. Holy hell, is this really going to happen? Orgath’s heavy-lidded yellow eyes perk up with desire as he looks at me as if he could leisurely consume every part of me, and gods help me, I want to be consumed.
Who cares if he’s not human? I’ve never felt the same attraction to any human man as I do toward Orgath.
His large fist closes around the dice and my pulse leaps with interest as I imagine that large long-fingered hand gripping me. A surge of lust has my panties dampening from the wet heat that shoots through my core. I can barely keep my attention on the dice as they roll on the floor between us. I blink at them and hastily add them in my head. He rolled twenty-seven.
“Your roll,” he rumbles and hands me the smooth bone pieces.
I give the dice a vigorous shake and for once pray that I lose. My hands release them and they clatter on the floor, spinning and falling edge over edge. He begins to laugh, and I understand quickly the source of his humor. Each di displays a single dot. I rolled a perfect six points and nothing more.
I flush and lean forward, uncertain how to go about this, but he takes control, much to my eternal thanks. Thank the gods for take-charge orcs. He draws me flush against his chest and I can feel his massive erection pushing against my belly when his surprisingly soft lips descend to capture mine.
Who knew that a male who is hard and tough everywhere would have the softest, plumpest lips I’d ever kissed? The tusks didn’t even get in the way, rather they were nothing more than a gentle pressure as we explored each other’s mouths.
His thick fingers begin to rub over my ass, gripping and squeezing the flesh, sometimes sharp enough to make me jerk, my cunt rubbing against his cock through the fabric of our clothes. We both groan at the contact and our kiss deepens with more fervor.
Suddenly, he releases my mouth and his lips trail a plundering course down my neck, intersecting long licks and caressing kisses and playful stinging nips that make me squirm and wiggle against him. He hasn’t touched me in any kind of sexual ways since he examined my nudity that first day, and my body has remembered those touches well—and missed them. Now every nerve is straining eager for his touch, and I find myself over-sensitive and shivering under his every caress.
He stops in his amorous pursuit just long enough to pull my tunic over my head and toss it into the corner of the room, followed by the leather band that binds my breasts. His mouth greedily attacks my breasts the moment they are exposed to the air. His mouth sucks deeply on one nipple while his fingers ruthlessly and firmly pluck at my other nipple. Every tug on my breasts shoots down to my pussy, and my body is crying out to be fulfilled. It screams for something more. Something thick and hard to be pushed inside of my weeping cunt.
“Orgath, I can’t wait. This is killing me. Please, give me your cock.”
His head lifts and his eyes are like fire as he stares down at me, the passion held within threatening to burn me. I want to burn in him. His large hand grips my thigh and he suddenly lifts my rear high into the air, the other hand striking the flesh of my ass with sharp cracks that dance on the edge between pleasure and pain. My pussy gushes and I cry out, startled.
“You do not give me orders, female. I will give it to you only when I am ready to do so.”
In the next breath he is between my legs, his mouth attacking my nether lips with such shocking enthusiasm that I nearly come up off the floor. I’ve never had a lover eat pussy with such enthusiasm. His tongue pushes into my folds, alternately stroking and pushing inside my channel, pausing only so that his lips can greedily suck on my clit and the labia with relentless tugs.
Every now and then, a curved tusk brushes my inner thigh, or the sensitive tissue of my pussy, and it pushes me up just that higher. I am spiraling out of control in a haze of need. When I finally go over the edge, it’s a freefall from such heights that all I can do is let go and scream out my pleasure.
It is in the midst of the scream, with my cunt clenching frustratingly on empty air, that Orgath frees his thick member and pushes it within me just enough to give me something to clench onto, and my body quivers anew with another orgasm. With a few thrusts, he is lodged deep within me and I can feel him everywhere. In my body, in my heart—hell, I feel him in my very soul. He stills, gasping for air, his eyes wide with surprise, but then he begins to move inside my tight sheath, gently at first but then riding at a stronger tempo. His fingers dig into my hips and he lifts me just enough to change the angle so he can thrust deeper into me.
I am panting and whimpering but his grunts are loud around me. He grunts with each thrust and growls deep with pleasure in a continuous rumble. The thick veins of his cock massage the walls of my pussy so deliciously and he fills me up so much that I don’t think we will ever be able to come apart.
I try to grip him harder to me to encourage him, but he snatches both of my hands in one of his large fists and holds them above my head. But ultimately, he gives me exactly what I want—what I crave. He pounds into me savagely, his cock thickening. I feel a flutter deep within me, and then another building up to crescendo, my cunt spasming around him viciously. I tilt my head back and scream once more as a powerful orgasm completely undoes me. I can barely hear his deep roar and feel the hot spurts of his cum within me.
***
Orgath
My seed spurts out of me and doesn’t stop for many minutes. It fills her channel and begins to seep between us long before my cock ceases to spew its fluids. She doesn’t shirk from my roar, but her lusty scream serves as an answer to it, our souls merging.
The bloodbond is a fragile bond. Our essences are merging, only waiting to be strengthened as we continue to come together. I will need to finish the gift as is proper and present it to her soon.
Her body beco
mes boneless beneath me and I sweep her against my chest as I roll on to the floor beside her. A pang of guilt assaults me for not making certain that we were not at least over the comfortable cushion and furs. I never wanted our first time to be on cold stone, but she doesn’t object. Instead, she stretches and nestles into me, her reddish-blond curls hanging in tangles around her head. She drifts off to sleep almost instantly, and I gently pick her up and carry her to our room where I lay her on the thick mattress and furs.
Silently, as not to wake her, I gather the small basket I had hidden within a trunk and retreat to the common room and sit before the fire. I carefully untangle the thin gold wire and lay my supplies out before me: gleaming polished claws, gemstones, and beautifully fine bones from my greatest trophies of the hunt. With the fire warming me, I sit there for hours assembling the gift.
Now I have no doubt she will accept me.
Chapter 9
Sammi
I slowly stretch, feeling languid pleasure at the pull of muscle. Four leisurely days of making love since Lorf showed his face and my body is feeling it. It’s a comforting ache of pleasure, the kind that only a well-sexed body can know. In fact, I wouldn’t mind at this moment rolling over and doing it again except a heavy arm is stretched across my abdomen, the gray skin a patchwork of scars running its length. This arm speaks to me of all that he’s survived. Battles won and lost.
It’s not the arm of a man who leads a life of leisure.
I gently trail a finger over the longest of the scars as Orgath snores in my ear, the dense muscles of his chest pressing into my back. But that’s nowhere near as distracting as the thick length resting against the crease of my ass. I make a small noise in the back of my throat and shift my hips subtly, enjoying the feel of his flesh against mine.
The band of his arm suddenly tightens around me and he growls low, his pelvis pushing up behind me aggressively. That’s something I can appreciate in Orgath that I’d never found in the men of my previous relationships—his hunger and dominance. It appeals to me on a primal level, the part of me who likes a rough fuck. He gives that and then some while still managing to be considerate and thoughtful outside of our furs, which is rare.
The Orc Wife Page 7