When he looked back at her, his eyes were heated, glinting with meaning, but Ella made herself ignore it, in favour of sidling around him, and tugging out his wet, messy braid with her fingers. And then combing through his thick black hair again and again, while he tilted his head back, and the past and the present suddenly jolted together, all at once. He was Ella’s mate, her best and oldest friend, and her hands slightly shook as she braided his beautiful hair, and tied it off with a black ribbon, and stepped around to look at him.
And for an instant, it was like she was seeing him with entirely new eyes. A hulking, heavy-featured orc, with a badly crooked nose, and scarred grey-green skin. With huge shoulders and arms, a hard, muscled torso, a twitching tented kilt. With flashes of gold studded all over him, blatantly flaunting not only his wealth and his position among his kin, but also his powerful, rippled body, his smooth burnished skin.
He was hideous, frightening, shocking, shameless — and also fierce, powerful, rugged, with a deadly, defiant beauty that seemed to choke at Ella’s soul. And he washers. He was Ella’s bonded mate, soon to be her husband, the father of herchildren…
Her shaky hand had reached up to brush against his scarred cheek, earning an immediate, snaky lick of his black tongue against her fingers. Making Ella gasp, even as she blinked back the rising wetness behind her eyes, and slipped a finger between those parted lips.
“Gorgeous orc,” she murmured, her eyes holding his, speaking her truth, as Natt brazenly sucked on her finger, twirling his tongue around it. “You are the most thrilling creaturealive, Nattfarr of Clan Grisk. Gods, I just want to pin you down andfuckyou.”
The shocking words rolled off her tongue without the slightest hesitation, earning a sudden, wolfish grin from Natt’s mouth. And then a swift reach of his arm toward the box, his clawed hand grasping, and finding —
That. The thick, gold, rounded ring, for downthere. And when Natt held it up to Ella, eyebrows raised, she willingly took it, and then reached down beneath his kilt, and drew him out.
And as she slid the ring down his length, their eyes stayed locked, silently speaking, held on this truth. It enforces the vow of a mate, Natt had said, and there’d been meaning in that Ella hadn’t known at the time — but she knew now, and somehow it did feel like another truth, another pledge, as she slid it flush to the base of him, and then drew those heavy bollocks through, pressing her gold close against his groin. Her orc, proudly wearing her ring, on the part of him that from now on would always, only, be hers.
And it felt right, suddenly, that Natt not take her here, in secret, where no one could see — but that he should instead grasp his lamp, and guide Ella’s topless form out of the room. Out into the corridor, where he slung his warm arm over her shoulder, his warm hand reaching down to cup at her breast. Leaving the other — the pierced one — fully exposed, peaked, hungry.
At the sight of the first orc, striding up the corridor toward them, Ella felt her steps falter, the old familiar shame surging — but Natt’s hand was warm, his body strong and close, his eyes flaring with unmistakable pride as he nodded at the orc and murmured a greeting, his voice husky, warm, triumphant.
And that was enough, suddenly, to keep Ella’s head held high, her stride steady, as more staring orcs passed. As she and Natt approached what had to be the muster-room, what with the considerable noise emanating from within, and many more orcs spilling out of the door, all seeming to talk and laugh at once.
The orcs easily parted for Ella and Natt, though many of them fell silent, their eyes sliding to Ella’s bare chest — but Ella only looked at Natt, at the flashing pride in his eyes, and shoved down the whispers of unease and shame. She was Ella, of Clan Grisk, and why should she not dress to please her beautiful hungry mate? Why should she not dress to pleaseherself?
That was a new thought, but one that suddenly felt surprisingly true, as Ella turned her attention, perhaps for the first time, to the current ease of her movements, the freedom of her arms and legs. The lack of constriction anywhere, the beautifully forged gold all over her, teasing and whispering when she moved. The expanses of her bare skin ready to be touched, stroked, at any moment.
The truth of that seemed to brush the shame further away, perhaps just in time, as they stepped into the crowded, bustling room — and then Ella’s mouth dropped open, and all other thoughts vanished into nothing, because even after Natt’s Revel, she had never seen a party like this.
There were drumbeats and dancing, games and competitions, sparring and wrestling. There was what appeared to be a mountain of food in one corner, including several entireboars, and multiple barrels of wine and ale. And there had to behundredsof orcs, all laughing and shouting and celebrating at once, and the noise was almost deafening, fighting against the drums to create a pounding, heart-jolting chaos.
And amidst it all, there were orcs taking their pleasure. Not only against the walls and in dark corners, but in the centre of the room a cluster of benches had been pushed together, and upon them was a sight that rivalled what Ella had seen in the Skai common-room. Orcs writhing and gasping together, some taking some giving, with mouths and hands and bare exposed arses.
And — Ella very nearly choked — there was even Grimarr, andJule. With Jule’s tall, heavily pregnant, entirely naked form straddled close upon Grimarr’s lap, her bare hips slowly rising up to reveal the massive, glistening-wet orc-prick embedded deep between her legs.
Good gods. Ella couldn’t move, suddenly, but beside her Natt only laughed, his claw gently teasing at her peaked nipple. “This is one more lesson for you, lass,” he murmured, close in her ear. “How to honour your mate by taking him before all his brothers. Should you wish to try this, with me?”
Should she. And as Ella watched Jule sink down, her back arching while that massive thickness disappeared deep inside, there was the shuddering, heated realization that perhaps she should wish to try this. Or, rather, shedid.
Ella’s mouth was dry, her body prickling, her face heating — but looking at Natt, at her rugged shameless mate, she only felt a wild, desperate craving, pounding louder with every deafening beat of the drum. She was Ella, of Clan Grisk. And she wanted her mate, longed for him, needed to flaunt his beauty and power for all to see.
So she reached a shaky hand to grasp for his, squeezing tight — and then led him through the gathering of watching orcs, and straight toward the nearest empty bench. Only turning to look at Natt once they’d reached it, and drinking up the surprise, the warmth, the blazing hunger in his watching black eyes.
But Natt wasn’t moving, he was waiting, the audacious beast, and slowly licking his lips with his long black tongue. And Ella was suddenly, forcibly reminded of their first night together, of his teasing words and sweet, patient kisses. We shall have this, now. Kiss me. Feel how I long to fill you.
Ella’s own tongue had come out to lick her lips, her eyes running up and down Natt’s beautiful form, drinking him up. And when her hands finally reached up for his broad, fur-covered shoulders, shoving him downwards, he didn’t resist, just sank his body heavily onto the bench, blinking up at her with greedy, crackling eyes.
It was easy to straddle him, to find her way into the safety of his warmth. Her hands sliding around the back of his neck, her head ducking to drink in the warm, delicious scent of him. While he did the same to her, his breath inhaling thick, hard, deep, as though he too were drowning, lost in the power of this, mated, together, at last.
His thighs beneath her had spread wider, drawing hers further apart over him, but there were still two layers of clothing separating them — at least, until Ella felt Natt’s hand tugging on her kilt. And suddenly the leather had fallen away entirely — and Ella was straddled fully naked over an orc at aparty. Her legs spread wide apart, her bare arse entirely exposed, her swollen wet heat visibly, desperately clenching for relief.
The shock and the shame were back again, swarming Ella with furious force, and it was all she could do to keep herself from leaping up and running away — but suddenly Natt’s warm hands were here, on her hot face, making her meet his dazed black eyes.
“You honour me, my brave lass,” he breathed. “You honour your mate when you show your hunger for all to see. You honour me when you are bared, scent-bound, dripping wet for me. You honour me when” — he dropped one of those hands, and slid his finger between her legs, setting her wetness madly clenching against it — “you flaunt your sweet fat womb for me, and show that the only scent upon it, the only seed within it, ismine.”
The last came out a growl, his wet finger slowly rising to his lips, his tongue curling long and tantalizing against it. “Honour me,” he breathed, the words a deep, thudding heat in Ella’s exposed, desperately clenching groin. “Show me.”
The hunger was striking with the drums, with every choked breath from Ella’s mouth, and somehow her head nodded, her tooth biting her lip, her eyelashes wildly fluttering. “Ach, Nattfarr of Clan Grisk,” she whispered. “I will.”
She could almost taste the replying surge of his desire, locking close and breathless between them — and when she felt the hard flare of his groin, pressing up against her through his tickling-soft furs, it was, somehow, enough. Enough to send Ella’s fingers skittering downwards, yanking at the tie on his waist, dropping the fur away, and showing —that.
