“You have naught to regret, woman,” he said, his voice stilted. “It is I who should speak thus to you. I oughtnevertouch you, when I am yet caught in battle-rage thus. This was wrong, ach? I beg your forgiveness for this. I only” — she could hear his swallow — “craved your sweetness. Your hunger for me. Your… peace.”
Her peace. Hers. He’d wanted —her.
“I am sorry, woman,” he continued, quieter. “I ought never have done this. Oughtneverstoke your fear and grief thus. Ach?”
And slicing through the sheer chaos swarming Maria’s thoughts, there was only the compulsive, desperate need to squeeze him tighter. To embrace this huge deadly orc as close as she could, because in this moment, she truly didn’t care what he’d done, or what he’d said. She didn’t care that she wasn’t supposed to care. She didn’t care that this was still a contract, a deal, asale.
He wanted her. He’d wanted her peace.Hers. And she wanted his, she’d wanted it the whole of this awful endless day, and finally it was here, within her reach, whispering in the still-rapid pulse of his heartbeat beneath her ear. And in, perhaps — Maria’s hand slipped downwards, searching, caressing — the warm, swiftly swelling base of him, the pure, powerful proof of his hunger.
His big body had snapped to stillness again, his sharp claws clenching against her back — even as the beast in her fingers grew fuller, thicker, harder. Seeking her touch, pulsing eagerly against her, wanting her, surely speaking its truth…
And once again, the world jerked, and tilted sideways. Catching on the clutch of strong hands against Maria’s waist, thrusting her fully down onto her back on the bed. And suddenly Simon was leaning over her, breathing hard, his eyes glittering with something Maria couldn’t grasp, couldn’t name.
“Still,” he rasped, and it took Maria far too long to realize it wasthatquestion. The same question as always. Did she want this, still. Did she want him, even now.
And this time, there was no rebellion at it, no rage curdling in her belly. Only a stilted, slippery understanding, swirling for perhaps the first time. He wanted to know. Wanted to be sure she craved this, just as much as he did.
Maria’s nod was jerky, fervent, true — and Simon nodded too, just as fervent. And then, in a rush of movement, he was gone — but notgone, only settling further down on the bed, kneeling between Maria’s legs, spreading them apart.
Her thoughts were still skittering, uncomprehending, even as he yanked up her tunic and loincloth, baring her whole from the waist down. As he also drew her knees up, thrusting them wide, exposing everything in between to the room’s cool air. To the feel of his own still-seeping wetness, the proof of his last brutal taking, slipping shameful and incriminating down the length of her raw, reddened, throbbing crease.
“Ach,” he said, hoarse, and in that instant he looked almost haggard, or even ill. Making Maria freeze all over again, because wait, what did that mean, had she horribly misread this, was he still only making a point —
But even as the uncertainty kept ringing louder through her frantic thoughts, Simon’s hands stroked her thighs with unexpected gentleness, settling them wider apart. And then he shifted his huge body further downwards, bent his dark head low…
Andkissedher.There.
Maria choked and flailed up, the disbelief screaming, while the unfamiliar,impossiblesensation kept whirling out in shivery stinging arcs. Because he wasstill doing it. This baffling, deadly orc was stillkissingher, caressing her most secret places with warm full lips and a gentle hot tongue. Now slipping that tongue a little deeper, into where he’d already used her, opened her, filled her. And she couldfeelthe liquid pooling fuller, faster, almost as if returning the touch of his lips, seeking for its own maker’s filthy mouth…
“Simon,” Maria finally gasped, through the shock, the still-whirling sparklingwonder. “Y-you — you c-can’t — trulywant—”
The sensation stopped,stopped— but wait, that was because Simon had raised his head to look at her. His lips parted, his teeth bared, his tongue blatantly curling and slithering against the mess on his face, slipping it shameless and hungry inside.
“Ach, I can,” he said, his voice just as decisive as his watching black eyes. “I wish to eat my good seed from deep within my sweet woman, and hear her scream upon my strong cleansing tongue.”
Oh,fuck. The moan escaped from Maria’s lips without warning, without recourse, and Simonsmiledat her, slow and crooked, and again bent his head low. And then kissed heragain, full and deep, his tongue swirling against swollen skin. Licking, lapping, delving, caressing.
There was no possible protest, no possible response, only the shocking wheeling sensation, almost agonizing in its power. And perhaps just as powerful was the truth of it, the unshakeable certainty that Simon did want this, he wantedher, his tongue slipping deeper, drinking her from the inside out…
Gods, it felt good, and even better when his warm hand slipped up to the top of Maria’s parted crease, his thumb circling gentle against the fiercely sensitive skin. Dragging it up, opening her up even more for him, his tongue swirling slick and hot and obscene. While his own seed kept pooling and dripping, the sounds wet and vulgar and wicked, as Maria writhed and moaned and choked upon his brutal, beautiful onslaught.
“Fuck,” she gasped, without even realizing it. “Fuck, Simon.”
He answered with a dark, satisfied laugh, an even deeper plunge of that slick, devastating tongue. Licking and slurping, drinking up his own seed with lewd, profane determination — and then, oh hell, slipping downwards. Back towardthere, toward where Maria had tried and failed to take him, and this could not be happening, it couldnot— but itwas, and she screamed with shock and sensation and euphoria as his slippery heat pierced her, soft and slow and sweet.
It was the utter opposite of what he’d done before, almost pure torment in its slow lilting gentleness, in the careful nudge of hot sinuous silk. In the way Maria could just see his closed eyes, the lashes fluttering against his bloody cheek, his inhale reverent and deep.
And it was, perhaps… an apology. It was this orc again saying, with his silently caressing tongue, that he did want her. That he truly hadn’t meant to alarm her, or shout at her, or push her. That he still wanted her to stay.
The truth of that seemed to spin and fire with all the rest, dancing Maria further into chaos, into delirium. Into a wild, whirling place where the bare glance of his eyes set her body furiously pulsating around him, the pleasure sparking out in desperate white streams, every throb a jolt of pure, intoxicating bliss.
Simon kept kissing her as it faded, even gentler than before, his gaze still whispering of reverence and regret. And Maria was still lost in the frenzy, loose-limbed with hot skittering exhilaration, and she felt her tingling hands yank on his shoulders, drawing him up toward her.
He came, hovering close and silent above her, his eyes bright, his sweaty chest heaving. And Maria drank it up, drowned in it — and shoved him sideways. Wanting him on his back, and he willingly went, sprawling out beside her, though his black brows furrowed, hinting at confusion, or maybe even reluctance.
But his trousers were sagging down, exposing that still-swollen, rock-hard beast at his groin, jutting up toward Maria, twitching into the eager grip of her fingers. And it was so easy, so right, to slide herself up over him, to straddle his broad hips, to settle herself close. And then — she moaned, her body arching — to bring that dripping, pulsing hardness to where his tongue had just been, to the place he’d fought and failed to conquer.
But Maria had surely never felt so relaxed in her life, so full of calm, willing acceptance. And Simon wasn’t pushing or prodding this time, only lying there perfectly still beneath her, his eyes watching with searing, piercing intent. Withawe.
