And Maria felt it, felt him, huge and deadly and aggressive, his body still streaked in blood — and welcomed him. Felt herself soft and open for him, craving him, needing his power filling her, bracing against her, holding her safe…
And it was. He was. Shockingly massive, impossibly so, as he slowly eased up inside her, splitting her apart upon him. But not pushing this time, instead finding her, meeting her, slipping into the space she was making for him…
The delirium was rising again, spinning and wheeling — and then skittered even higher when big warm fingers slipped between her legs, found where she was still empty, untouched. And then they began sinking inside too, gentle, inexorable, filling her in tandem with his dripping, driving strength.
It was so much, more than Maria had ever before sought or imagined, and the intensity was crawling against her, stripping her apart, consuming her in its raw, ferocious force. And when Simon’s other hand jerked up, catching on her tunic’s neckline, Maria only arched up, moaned, begged —
He tore it down the front with a single, devastating yank, freeing Maria’s hungry breasts from within it, exposing them for his eyes. And then he yanked off the loincloth too, leaving her fully naked and writhing upon him, trapped, aching.
“Pretty,” Simon gasped, his eyes fluttering, his free hand slipping up to pinch at a peaked nipple. “More.”
More.More? Andgods, this orc was such a greedy, shocking bastard — he was already fucking her on his fingers, as well as his merciless conquering monster — and somehow, in the chaos, Maria…laughed. The sound rich and smoky and approving, as she bore down and drank him ever deeper, impaled herself on his brutal invasion, thrust her breast into the grip of his warm waiting hand, drunk and feverish and lost —
The pleasure caught, sparked, kindled — and then, oh hell, itdetonated. Hurling and howling from Maria’s pierced, pulverized core, escaping in the clawed clutch of her fingers on his sweaty skin, in the base, broken wail from her throat. In the way the orc beneath her was gasping, his chest heavily hollowing, his eyes rolling back — and then he was arching up too, his jutting hardness shuddering and straining inside her, pumping her very innards full of his hot, wicked orc-seed.
And in this unreal, dreamlike moment, with Maria speared and screaming upon an orc — there was only… peace. Only the certainty, deep and sure, that hehadwanted this. That Simon had wanted her, in the surreal, awful chaos of this day, just as she’d wanted him. And she’d taken him, she’d welcomed him, she’d been bared and whole and pure for him. For his… cleansing.
And surely itwascleansing, in the way his eyes were still sweeping over her. In the way his fingers so gently slipped out of her, stroking as they went, trailing soft up her bare belly. Seeking higher and higher, until they found her mouth, and then sank deep between her parted lips.
Maria’s eyes fluttered as she suckled him, her tongue caressing against his callused skin. And as he watched, so quiet and intent, she could finally see the approval, flaring to life in his beautiful black eyes.
“Maria,” he whispered, his voice rolling over the syllables, like it was magic, a song. “My Maria. My sweet, pretty, wilful woman.”
A quiver of heat unfurled down Maria’s back, and she smiled at him, slow, around his still-delving fingers. And kept smiling as he slipped the fingers out, and brushed them against her swollen lips.
“I thank you, for this,” he whispered, so low, so reverent. “I no deserved this from you, my pretty one. No today.”
There was truth in his eyes, in his voice, and Maria wasn’t about to argue with it, not now. “No,” she whispered back. “But if you’d justtoldme, Simon, from the start, I” — she exhaled, felt her smile fading — “I would have understood, you know?”
Something shifted in Simon’s still-watching eyes, but he didn’t speak, so Maria drew in breath, courage. “I thought you were going to teach me,” she said, quieter. “I’m truly trying to learn. I’m trying to honour you. Aren’t I?”
He still didn’t speak, though his throat again convulsed, his fingers slack against Maria’s lips — and she would say the rest of this, she would. “I want to know about your work. I want to know about your past, and if you really do still want Tristan, or Kesst, or whoever. And I want to know about your clan, even if” — she gave a reflexive grimace — “they surely don’t want me here. Just like I’m still not entirely sure you do, either.”
Simon’s slowly heaving chest had stilled beneath her, silence skipping between them — and then warm hands gripped for Maria’s shoulders, dragging her fully down upon him. Clutching her tight against him, his fingers spreading wide against her bare back.
“Ach, woman, I wish for you,” he said, his voice rough. “More than I have ever wished for any other. You are so pretty, so sweet. So eager. So…true.”
Oh. The pleasure rippled down Maria’s spine, brash and hot — but with it was more nagging unease, too. More awful, curdling whispers of what Simon had done today, and why. What Ulfarr had said.
“But is it true, though?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “About the Skai, only wanting pretty things, so you can… destroy them?”
She could feel the tension slipping into Simon’s body beneath hers, and when she blinked back at his face, he was staring at the ceiling, his hand again rubbing at his mouth. Not wanting to say it, maybe, and Maria’s own tension jerked higher, her heart thudding louder in her ears. What if thatwasonly why he wanted her, after all…
“Ach,” Simon said finally, on another sharp exhale. “This is truth, in part. I long for what is whole and sweet and true. This speaks to me. It —callsto me. It is, mayhap” — his throat convulsed — “what most Skai have never known, ach? So we envy this. We wish to gain this. We wish to make it our own.”
Oh. Maria’s shiver was sudden, involuntary, her eyes darting away from his face — until Simon’s hand clutched at her hair, giving her head a gentle little shake. Wanting her to look at him. To listen. To follow his…teaching.
“And so oft,” he continued, “it is humans who bear this wholeness. Humans like you, ach? With your fickle, carefree ways, and your unmarked skin, and fat bellies. Your kin have stolen our peace, and our lives, and mayhap even our wholeclan— and yet, you walk easy and fearless and free, and flaunt this before us. You no evenseethe great wealth you bear, in this.”
The discomfort flared in Maria’s chest, and she opened her mouth to counter that. To point out her own struggles, her horrid husband, her dead parents, all she’d had to endure — but Simon’s fingers had again come to her lips, pressing tight against them. Wanting her to listen.
“I ken many humans suffer also,” he said, his voice deepening. “I no say this is no truth. But yet” — his eyes shifted, glinting — “you no live with only war, from your earliest days. You no learn to fight, before you learn tospeak. You no learn to move in silence, to always hide, so you are nokilled. You no feel the torment of blades and bolts and arrows in your skin, and then always bear these scars, these marks of your defeat. You no” — Maria heard him swallow — “watch your own father slain before you, after he make tiny fire to cook yourbreakfast. For you have loose tooth this day, and this pains when you chew raw meat.”
Wait, what? It felt like those words had slapped Maria across the face, her eyes wide and shocked on Simon’s — but he meant that, he did, his eyes dark and grave and clouded with…grief. And something was prickling behind Maria’s own eyes, threatening to escape — and for some inexplicable reason, her head whipped around to look at his shelf. To find the carving of the smiling, barrel-chested orc, still standing with its back toward them, as if to look away from all this. Away from his…son?
But yes,yes, it was here in Simon’s eyes, in their deep, hushed misery, theirtruth. “All Skai bear tales and truths such as this, ach?” he continued, so quiet. “And then, amidst all this, we must face you humans. We must mate with you, bring you into our homes, into ourbeds. You are so pretty, so light, sofree. You think us crude, dim-witted,disgusting. You say youhateus. You say we no care, weabandonour own, we aremurderers. And so, we then —”
He broke off there, his jaw grinding in his cheek, but this was familiar now, this was what he’d explained to her before. Except that those words — all of those awful, painful words — werehers.
