“Ach, my pretty one,” he purred. “Then kneel for your Skai, and grant me my prize.”
39
In that instant, it was suddenly as though Maria was utterly alone with Simon, with only his watching eyes, his mouth on her skin. Lost in the truth of his words, the taunt, thetrust.
Kneel, and grant me my prize.
It was a challenge, a chance — and good gods, Maria was taking it. Snatching it, and pelting away with it, andgrinningat him. Warm, fierce, loyal, brave. Unashamed.
“Of course, Simon,” she whispered back, as she slipped her hand out to his chest, spread it against his wildly beating heart. “Whatever you wish.”
And with that, she dropped to her knees. Not looking, not thinking, only frantically grasping for the front of her mate’s trousers, and yanking them downwards. Freeing the swollen, leaking monster within, already prodding hot and hungry against her parted lips.
Fuck. Maria opened wide, sucked him deep, her eyes furiously fluttering — because oh gods, thetasteof him, all slick fiery sweetness, exploding on her tongue. And after so long, it was like breath, likelife, likeeverything. Like there was nothing else to do but drag on it, sucking it out in thick, decadent streams, gulping it down her starving throat. Needing her orc’s seed, his approval, hishonour.
And it was there, surely, in the low rumble from his chest, in the way his clawed hands had carded into her hair. Guiding her hungry mouth back and forth upon him, sliding her up and down his ridged, massive length, while Maria suckled and swallowed, moaning aloud with the longing, the relief, the pure, pulsatingbliss.
And when her mate grunted, and yanked fully away from her, Maria didn’t resist, didn’t protest. Only held her mouth open as he grasped his girth in an easy clawed hand, and then —sprayedhimself out onto her. Spattering hot streams across her tongue, her lips, her cheeks. Even easing it back and forth, so that he might better spread it out over her, marking her with his scent, his claim, hisapproval.
It left Maria blinking, kneeling, and dripping with succulent slippery heat — and as Simon’s hand moved to smear the mess on her face, it was sheer instinct to lean into his touch, to trail her hungry tongue against her swollen lips. To take all this orc would give her, to worship with utter devotion at her Enforcer’s feet.
And gods, the way he waslookingat her, his eyes bright, blazing. And when his thumb skated across Maria’s bottom lip, she lunged for it, suckling it, biting it — and that was surely a groan, growling from his throat.
“Gods, I want you, Simon,” she whispered, before he could ask, against the warmth of his skin. “Take me? Flaunt me? Please?”
And as those eyes shone upon hers, Maria suddenly felt the depth of this moment. Of her pleading, her kneeling, her worship. Creating a new rite, a new way — not only for Simon and his clan, but for Simon andherself. Simon had cleansed her, Enforced her, made her a Skai, kept her safe. Kept his word, kept that contract, even after she’d broken it. He was worthy, he wastrue, and right now he was all Maria wanted. Every single craving poured to perfect life, standing here huge and bloody and menacing, blinking down into her soul with beautiful black eyes.
“Please, Simon,” she said again, her voice breaking. “Please, take me. Let me honour you in this. Let meworshipyou.”
Another rasping groan burned from his throat, those black lashes fluttering thick — and in a whirl of fluid motion, his hands curved close around Maria, and swept her flat onto her back on the mossy knoll beneath them. Catching her wild eyes with his, his gaze glinting with such meaning, such warmth, suchapproval.
“Ach, my pretty one,” he breathed, his voice curling into Maria’s belly, into her heart. “I shall grant you my rut. I shall make you spurt and squeal upon me.”
Maria frantically, eagerly nodded, and Simon flashed her that grin of his, crooked, true. And in an easy swipe of his hand, he caught both her wrists at once, clenching them together, drawing them up above her head.
“And you shall show me all that is mine,” he continued, the softness of his words at sudden, surreal odds with his other hand, catching on the neck of her tunic — and then dragging downwards in a sharp slice, cutting through the fabric with glorious ease. “You shall flaunt my prize before me.”
Maria gasped and shivered beneath him, but again, there was only the craving, deep, dark, desperate. And surging still higher when — she moaned aloud — both her bare breasts popped free, jutting up into the cool air, their brown nipples pointing hard and hungry toward the darkening sky.
“Pretty,” Simon murmured, as his fingers gently tweaked at one hard peak, and then the other. “I shall take great joy in smearing my seed against these. In seeing them bounce and jiggle as I plough you.”
Goodgods. Maria shuddered again, the warmth and the hunger quavering from her head to her feet, and Simon smiled again, more challenging this time, flashing her a mouth full of sharp, vicious orc-teeth. “Ach, this shall surely please you, my pretty one,” he said, as he began tearing again, slicing through more fabric, ripping Maria’s trousers apart, yanking off her loincloth and dagger. “It is no every woman who gains only the greatest prick of the Skai, in her rut.”
That prompted several answering noises of disapproval, from somewhere very far away, but Simon didn’t even seem to notice, his black eyes glittering on hers. “You have sought to keep yourself open for me, ach?” he breathed. “You have used the gift I sent with you, to keep yourself ready for my taking?”
Maria jerked a frantic nod, and that approval again flashed warm and visceral in his eyes. While his hands slid firm and proprietary down her bare front, pausing to caress against the very slight swell at her waist. And then slipping lower as his huge powerful thighs, still wearing trousers, eased between her legs, and thrust them wide apart.
There was no denying Maria’s grating gasp, no way to hide the answering throbs of her swollen, exposed heat. And Simon was watching, smiling,amused, as he grasped her parted thighs, and spread them even wider, blatant, obscene.
“Ach, mark this,” he breathed, boasted, over his shoulder — and Maria could only stare and shiver as she saw several other orcs stepping around to look. Witnessing her bared form, her splayed thighs, the swollen, clenching, dripping-wet heat between them…
One of the orcs laughed, saying something in black-tongue, and Simon answered in kind, the smooth words pooling easy off his tongue. While he shifted his weight between Maria’s thighs, using his own legs to open hers wider, so he could drop his hand between, andstrokeher.
Maria started and moaned, and in return more of the orcs laughed — but not Simon. No, Simon was still stroking, his fingers teasing gently up and down her parted crease, his eyes intent on the sight. On where — Maria jerked again — he was nudging those fingers against her, making her clench and flare upon him, showing the bare truth of her hunger to all these watching orcs —
“Ach, you shall milk me thus, woman,” he purred, and Maria’s ragged whine escaped on its own, rippling through the clearing all around. Earning more laughter from the watching orcs, but somehow it didn’t feel insulting, not with Simon looking at her like this, his lips parted, black lashes fluttering. “You bear a good womb, ach, my pretty one? Wet, ripe. Fat and open. Strong enough to berth a Skai, and bear a hale, hearty son.”
Maria nodded again, jerky and fervent, and Simon flashed her another toothy grin, his body shifting forward,approving— and oh gods, this was happening, finally,finally. That slick, sleek, dripping-wet cockhead just brushing at where his fingers had been, kissing, nudging,cleansing.
