He broke off sharply, as though he’d just remembered who he was talking to, and Rosa felt her throat swallow, her heart beating jaggedly in the darkness. The men would run back to Preia. To Duke Warmisham. Lord Kaspar’s father, who’d apparently set them up to this.
But wasn’t the Duke waiting on Lord Kaspar’s research? Rosa’s research? Hadn’t he said full-on war was undesirable… at least, until the peasants could be induced into fighting it for them?
Rosa’s heartbeat clanged louder, and she fought to keep her steps steady, one after the other. “But surely the realm’s lords don’t actuallywantanother war with orcs now?” she made her hollow voice say, lying,lying. “I can’t imagine why Duke Warmisham would be ordering his men to secretly break your treaty. I mean, he and Lord Otto are supposedly allies, andOttohas publicly defended your treaty, again and again, and denounced this kind of behaviour.”
John’s laugh was cold, brittle, incredulous. “Foolish woman,” he said. “Lord Otto shall onlydenouncethis as long as we keep him rolling in wealth, and even then, he doesnaughtof true substance against his fellow lords. Even now, Lord Culthen of Tlaxca seeks to stir up strife in this realm’s capital Citadel, urging these lords to war. Lord Anton of Dunburg seeks to block our trade, and sets attacks upon any loads of goods we hire. And Duke Warmisham of Preia” — John spat the name as if it were a curse — “not only sends men to prod us into attacks such as this, but he also seeks to stir the fear and fury of the common people. He sends paid men to taverns and markets to spread word of our wickedness. He spreads books and signs and treatises full of tales of the deadly, filthy Orc Mountain, and the black armies and beaten women within it.”
Oh. Rosa felt dangerously dizzy, suddenly, blinking at where she knew John’s face to be, while the undeniable reality behind his words slowly streamed through her skull. This project is now of prime importance, Lord Kaspar’s letter had said. Risking the resources and plans of the entire realm…
And while Rosa had of course known, intellectually, what that might mean, hearing John actually say it all out loud, here in this bitter darkness, seemed to twist tight and painful into the mess already swirling through her head.
Of course Duke Warmisham had a broader plan. Of course he would be seeking to goad orcs into foolish actions that could then be used against them. Of course he would be seeking to stir up swathes of anti-orc sentiment, in advance of announcing the newly discovered and deeply shocking atrocities of Orc Mountain. While his fellow lords prepared to support just such an announcement, by preventing the orcs from gaining supplies, and drumming up support in the realm’s capital…
And worst of all, Duke Warmisham had clearly fobbed off the job of researching the orcs’ atrocities to his so-called clever son. Who’d then, of course, turned and dumped the whole job ontoRosa. Who was now here, in the orcs’ own mountain, spying, watching,lying.
Rosa’s hard swallow was audible in the silence, and she heard John laugh again, the sound even colder, more bitter than before. “Ach, foolish woman,” he said, his voice almost taunting. “Duke Warmisham, whose second son is yourpatronat this library. The man whose scent yet fills your mouth and your womb. The cheap, selfish fool who starves his ownpet, whilst she eagerly toils on his behalf.”
Shit. Shit, shit,shit. John didnotknow about Rosa’s research, couldnotknow why she was here — but she couldn’t see his face, couldn’t stop her own face from flooding with heat. And John could see that, oh gods what would he say, he couldn’t know Rosa would ever do such a thing, hecouldn’t—
“IhateLord Kaspar,” she blurted out, before she could stop it, before she could think. “Ihatehim, John. You’re right, he’s cheap, and foolish, and because he’s marginally intelligent, he gets away with foisting the actual effort off onto everyone else, and being praised as a rare genius. He’s never gone without, he’s never had to suffer, he’sneverhad to fight or work for something he believes in. He uses people —especiallywomen — and throws them away without a second thought. Ihatehim, John. Ihatethat you can still smell him on me.”
Her voice had gone hard and fervent, her hand gripping against John’s solid bare arm, and she felt her other hand grasp for his face, feeling the sharp line of his jaw in his darkness. “Ihatehim,” she said again, thick and hoarse. “Youhaveto believe me, John.”
It made no sense, none of this made sense, not Rosa’s words, not the way her hands were suddenly clutching at him, not the abrupt stillness of his solid body against her. And surely not the shouting whirling mess in Rosa’s head, not panic but just sheer desperate need, she needed to prove it, to hide it, John needed to know, he could never,neverknow…
She shoved at John’s immobile form, pushing him back against the corridor’s stone wall, and he didn’t resist. Not even when her shaking, tingling hands fumbled for the front of his trousers, where they somehow knew they’d find his long, thick hardness, swollen and hungry, pulsing against her fingers through the fabric.
“Please, my lord,” she heard herself whisper, the words deeply shameful, even as she reached inside and drew him out, felt the thick velvet strength of him bobbing bare and alive under her touch. Fuck, he was big, and he was swelling even larger in her fingers, his smooth rounded head already streaking wetness against her palm. And curse her, but Rosa’s hand had snapped up to her mouth, all of its own accord, so her eager tongue could lick her palm clean, moaning aloud as the sweet honey of him exploded across her consciousness —
She could hear a short, strangled moan, could feel it in her bones — and in a jerky, staggering movement, she dropped to her bare knees on the stone floor. Wincing at the flare of pain, clutching at John’s strong thighs for balance in the dark — and then breathing in deep, turning her face up. Licking her lips, parting them wide, waiting in the sudden watching stillness…
The feel of John’s hard, silken cleft on her tongue was an offering, a revelation, and Rosa nearly sobbed as she sucked on it, lurid, deep. Earning a swarm of liquid in return, all sweet slippery honey, and she gulped it deeper, sucking him all the way inside. Until her lips were spread as wide apart as they could go, and he was nestled thick and powerful against her frantically convulsing throat, dripping his rich bounty straight down into it.
Fuck, Rosa had never felt so hungry in her life, and the urge to keep sucking, keep drinking, was towering over all else, trampling the world in its wake. And when she felt John draw out, taking this gift away from her, she actually moaned her protest, grabbed uselessly at his taut, unyielding arse —
But then he sank back in again, fluid and easy, settling his dripping head back into its place in her throat. Its honey seemed thicker now, more plentiful, and comprehension dipped and soared as Rosa nodded around him, and slowly drew back, just as he’d done. Feeling his thick length slide out between her wet lips, running her hungry tongue along every scar and vein and ridge, until she was flicking at his oozing slit, tasting and teasing, drawing that delectable honey from its source…
He sank deep with astonishing power this time, thrusting that leaking head hard into her throat, and Rosa shuddered with relief at the taste of it, the truth of it. John wanted her. He wanted a hungry, willing pet, who could swallow him deep, who could milk out his seed, who would suck him off in a pitch-black corridor. A pet who would take his side against his own brothers, and against these awful men, who only wanted more war, more death…
So Rosa lavished him, worshipped him, sucking him deeper and harder than she’d ever taken anyone before, her throat working and convulsing, learning to accept his strength. Until she felt the frenzied, whirling exultation of her lips settling around the actualbaseof him, her face crushed against his thick musky hair, she had an orc’s entire prick in her mouth and she had to be worthy, he had to be pleased, hehadto be…
His release sprayed out with no warning, only the sheer, shocking thrill of that huge, all-consuming cock in Rosa’s mouth spewing itself straight down her spasming throat, and pooling into her belly. While his thick shaft in her mouth strove and shuddered, his hairy groin pressing even harder against Rosa’s stretched-out lips. His breath coming out in a harsh, rasping moan, setting the dark aflame with the deep, violent truth of his joy.
Rosa didn’t stop sucking until he’d fully finished emptying himself, his hardness softening in her mouth, his big body sagging against the wall behind him. Only then did she finally draw back from him, careful, reverent, feeling the slick slide of his spent length slipping between her parted lips.
She lingered at the end, nudging her tongue against that softly open slit, and it occurred to her, distant and blunted, that she didn’t want this to be over yet. She didn’t want to be separated from him. And what if she were to start again, coax him back to hardness, and…
His groan was low, almost pained, and for the first time in this she felt his hands, warm, guiding her face away, drawing himself out. Leaving her empty, lightheaded, on the verge of whimpering, while she felt him moving before her, perhaps tucking himself away again.
“Hungry little pet,” he murmured, the words soft enough that Rosa nearly didn’t hear them — but she had, and she tilted her head up to him, licking her lips, almost as if in supplication. Please, my lord, please…
Her prayer was answered not with a touch, or a caress, as she might have wished — but instead with the glorious, head-swarming truth of strong arms circling close around her, and snatching her up. Tucking her tight against his solid, comforting strength as he once again began striding back down the corridor, as if nothing at all had changed.
But somethinghadchanged. Something in the relaxed ease of his body against Rosa’s, in the slow steadiness of his breath, the easy thump of his heartbeat under her spread fingers. In how Rosa’s nuzzle into his neck was met by an almost-tolerant tilt of his head toward her, his hair tickling at her forehead.
“You must never tell Efterar that you did this, so soon after he told you to,” he said, without warning, his voice soft. “I know seed helps you, but I should not wish him to know that I should ever follow his foolfeelings.”
Rosa could have easily argued several of these statements, but instead she found herself laughing into John’s neck, the sound husky, unfeigned. “Of course not,” she murmured back. “Efterar seems a bit of a self-righteous ass sometimes anyway, doesn’t he?”
