“Ach, mayhap it is the power of a good mate,” Natt replied, with a wink toward Ella, as he maneuvered himself behind her in the water, his familiar glorious hardness teasing at just where she most wanted it. “Or a good prick, wielded hard and often. There is great joy in this, ach, my lass?”
He grinned at Ella, waggling his black eyebrows, his hungry hand already sliding with purpose down her front — but Dammarr snorted again, and with a hard slice of his hand, sent a stream of hot water straight in Natt’s face. “Ach, you prick, there is,” he snapped. “Rub it in, why don’t you. Again. Why don’t you remind us again that she’s scent-bound to you, too?”
“Ach, just wait until she blooms with his son,” interjected Thrak, with a wink toward Ella. “You may find yourself without a mate, woman, if his raving becomes too much for his brothers to bear.”
His son. The thought sent an odd, thrilling surge of heat through Ella, and perhaps through Natt too, judging by the sudden press of his hardness between her legs — but Natt’s gaze was still on Dammarr, a speaking, sparking glint in his narrow eyes.
“Let us speak further upon this, brother,” he said coolly. “Now that I have found my mate again, no, you shall no longer have my fucking whenever you wish. But there is naught stopping you from seeking this elsewhere. I ken, like Olarr, it shall do you much good.”
Thrak hooted, rather loudly, while the other two grinned — and it was to Thrak that Natt turned next, his eyebrows raised. “And I ken, Dammarr,” he said, “that Thrak should take much joy in this. I ken he shall make you scream, just as I did.”
The room had fallen instantly, utterly silent, every eye darting between Thrak and Dammarr. Both of whom had also gone very still, Thrak with a telltale glitter in his dark eyes, Dammarr with a creeping pink beneath his grey cheeks. And it occurred to Ella, suddenly, that Dammarr was probably quite a nice-looking orc, what with his straight nose and thick dark hair, and that Thrak clearly thought so too.
“He,” Dammarr said, into the silence, “is a smug, prideful fool, who thinks he is funny, when he is not.”
“Ach, and Nattfarr is better?” Thrak shot back, with surprising defensiveness. “All you need for a good ploughing is a good prick, and this I have. Bigger than his, too.”
There was more stillness, during which Natt slowly grinned, and across the pool Thrain gave a hard shake of his head, as though seeking to rid something out of it. “Och, time to go, I ken,” he said. “Varinn?”
His voice at the last was tentative, his eyes uneasy on Varinn — but Varinn gave a hard nod, his big dripping body already leaping up out of the pool. “Yeah, I don’t need to see this right now,” he said. “Though I’m sure we will, sooner or later.”
With that, he grabbed a towel and strode off, with Thrain close behind. Leaving only Natt and Ella, and Thrak and Dammarr, both of whom now seemed to be intently avoiding one another’s gaze.
“Do you wish to go also, lass?” Natt murmured in her ear. “Or do you wish to see Thrak make Dammarr scream?”
The proper thing to do would be to leave, of course, but Ella’s brazen, betraying body seemed entirely caught still, her fingers clenching at Natt’s thigh behind her. And in reply Natt chuckled, nuzzling brief at her neck, before turning back to Dammarr again, with a decided smugness on his mouth.
“Ach, Dammarr, this settles it,” he said cheerfully. “My mate wishes to see this, filthy lass that she is. And after how vexed you have made her these past days, you truly ought to offer her some relief.”
Dammarr muttered something in black-tongue, but Natt only laughed, and drew Ella’s back closer against his chest. “Now watch and learn, my filthy little lass,” he murmured. “I ken they shall make this a good show, for you.”
Thrak’s eyes angled toward Ella, and he actuallywinked, along with a cocky little jerk of his head — but then his gaze settled back onto Dammarr again, a slow, hungry heat kindling beneath his half-lidded eyes.
Dammarr was looking back, his face gone rather startled, the whites of his eyes visible all around. And when Thrak strode through the water toward him, slow and purposeful, Ella could see Dammarr’s lips actually parting, his broad shoulders rising and falling. “No biting,” he murmured. “You’re not scarring me, you prick.”
“Not yet,” came Thrak’s reply, smooth, arrogant, as his clawed hand came up, and gently hooked a finger into Dammarr’s nipple-ring — and then yanked him forward, closing the space between them. “When I do mark you, you shall beg me for it.”
His other hand had come up to stroke at Dammarr’s long hair, petting it almost sweetly, drawing it together into his fist. Leaning closer, closer as he wrapped it around his hand, thick and black and shining, until his hand was up at Dammarr’s neck, tilting his head back. So close their mouths were almost brushing, even as Dammarr bared his sharp teeth, and Thrak slowly, wickedly smiled back —
And in a swift, dizzying movement, Thrak whirled Dammarr bodily around, bending him double, his hand still caught deep in Dammarr’s hair. And though what was happening below their waists was mostly concealed by the water, Ella could hear Dammarr’s gasp, could see the sudden tension shivering across his grey skin.
“Stubborn, pretty orc,” Thrak purred, his eyelashes fluttering, as his other hand disappeared under the water, stroking along the hard curve of Dammarr’s bent-over arse. “Feel how tight you are for me. Shall I make this easy for you? Or not?”
Dammarr’s chest was already heaving, his eyes squeezed shut, his head shaking. “Not,” he gasped. “Bastard.”
Thrak’s growl was deep, choked, shuddering, as he shifted his hips, seeking his place. His eyes closing, his head bowing, almost as if in supplication, or worship, the moment caught and still all around —
And then, in a swift thrash of movement, he drove forward. Hard enough that Dammarr’s whole body arched up, a guttural howl rippling from his throat.
“Fucker,” he hissed, between choking breaths, but when Thrak circled his hips, Dammarr moved too, their bodies now locked, joined as one. And Thrak murmured something in soft, heated black-tongue as he drew out, smooth, sweet, almost gentle —
Until he slammed inside again, deep and brutally powerful, while Dammarr shouted and flailed, his clawed hands grasping at nothing. And when Thrak dragged out again, slower this time, there was a sound almost like a whimper from Dammarr’s throat, his body taut and jerking, waiting, waiting — and then flaring up as Thrak drove inside and stayed there, circling, taunting, demanding.
“Tell me you like it,” Thrak breathed, tugging back on Dammarr’s hair, bringing his face close. “Tell me I please you.”
Dammarr only bit his lip and gasped for breath, his clawed hands scrabbling for the side of the pool. Earning another hard yank from Thrak on his hair, another slow, torturous drag out — and then a punch inside that made Dammarr’s whole body arch and thrash against him, another guttural howl rising from his throat.
“Tell me,” Thrak hissed, as he thrust forward again, again, again, Dammarr’s shouts rising with every stroke. “Speak this, you stubborn bitch, I can feel you, I cansmellyou —“
