“Enough, poppet,” Rathgarr growled at her across the table, his eyes blazing with fury, or perhaps heat, or both. And when his hand clutched around her wrist, she was already sliding out to stand before him, meeting his flashing, commanding eyes with something almost like excitement.
And damn it, she knew what he wanted, and it was just as inappropriate as that drink had been.Five coins are for that pretty, plump rump of yours. I shall make it as easy for you as I can…
But even so, her steps felt undeniably eager as she followed his long strides to the bar, and then up the stairs to the room he’d reserved. Where he swiftly lit the lamp, slammed the door shut, and yanked off his fur and cloak and sword. And then he spun and met Geva’s eyes, his brows raised, his hand hovering at his belt. Asking a silent question, waiting for her answer.
Geva swallowed hard, but then twitched a furtive nod. Saying yes,yes, and she fumbled to undress too, yanking off her outer layers, until she was left standing there in her shift, her heart thundering, her tooth biting her lip. He’d said he would make it good, he would make it quick,I only need to do this long enough to scent you…
“Only a little, right?” she heard her shaky voice say. “Just enough to… get the…scent?”
Rathgarr’s nostrils flared, but he nodded. “Ach, only a little,” he replied, husky. “Should you wish.”
Right. Right, then. Geva swallowed again, raised her chin — and then, before the terror could properly rise and take over, she whirled around, and clambered to kneel on the bed. Facing away from him, so her still-covered arse was jutting out toward him, and was she really doing this, oh gods, she was really doing this —
“Very well,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”
16
Geva couldn’t have said how long she waited there, trembling on her hands and knees. Desperately fighting the urge to turn and look at him, what was he doing, was he second-guessing this, would he mock her or laugh or —
When finally, there was a touch. A warm, gentle touch against her hip, over the fabric of her shift. His hand.
And then his other hand settled to the other side, and together they slowly, carefully began sliding the shift up. Up, and up, and up, scattering tingling gooseflesh across her skin. Until her bottom half was fully exposed, her arse facing out bare and brazen toward him.
Geva fought the urge to cower, to hide, to yank her shift back down again. And she could almost feel his gaze prickling on her skin, looking at this, as his warm hands gently gripped tighter, and drew her arse-cheeks a little further apart. Making her face burn even hotter, her heart pummelling her chest, until…
Oh. That. That hot, pulsing strength of him. Settling in lightly against the length of her crease, skin sliding against skin.
Geva quivered and gasped, her body tensing, waiting — but there was no pushing, no demanding. Just that warm heavy weight, now easing back and forth along her open, exposed crease. Feeling smoother and slicker with every slow, gentle stroke, and wait, that was because it was — wet. He was — preparing her.Our early seed is a great help in this, he’d said.
Geva’s breath shuddered out, her body relaxing again, and in return she could feel that thick sliding weight swelling even fuller, its strokes gradually deepening, lengthening. Sinking a little further between her bare arse-cheeks, closer, oh…
“Good, poppet?” his husky voice came from behind her. “Ready for more?”
With that, he’d let himself catch, just there, oh hell, just against Geva’s tight knot of heat. Just nudging, just kissing, warm and wet and soft, waiting for her to open, to welcome him…
“Just — a little, right?” she managed, breathless. “Just — like this?”
Thiswas the way his slick rounded head was very gently nudging deeper, just beginning to open her around it — and oh, even as Geva’s body clutched back, there was no pain, no resistance. Just this soft steady prodding, a slick jut of smooth warm flesh eased just slightly into her actualarse, oh hell.
“Ach, just this, if you wish,” he replied, perhaps a little breathless, too. “And then the seed. And after, you shall scent so strongly of me, no other orc shallthinkto question this.”
His voice had hardened into something dangerous, almost triumphant — and in response, a full-body shiver rippled up Geva’s spine, clamping her powerfully against him.Against him, because he wasinsideher — but he was still waiting, still asking, and she would scent so strongly of him, reek of him…
“Right,” she gulped, her voice only slightly quavering. “Do it, then. Give me — your seed.”
There was a strange, guttural groan, surprisingly close in her ear — and then the feel of his hand, dropping down between them. Moving, surely, along the rest of his shaft, stroking up and down, and Geva could feel him shuddering harder inside her, pulsing, squeezing out drop after drop. And she was pulsing and shuddering back, feeling the rising gathering tension, the growing curling heat, the way his body was stiffening behind her, his breath catching low and hot…
“But first, you find your pleasure for me, also,” he hissed, so close. “This shall make the scent stronger. More real.”
More real. With his fingers nudging at her arm, in a silent but very salient command. And oh, Geva was eagerly nodding, shifting her weight onto one hand, so she could slide the other one down, toward her pulsing, aching groin.
And oh, it felt so, so good. Her body rocking against the tight firm pressure of her fingers, against that prodding, leaking heft inside her. Andyes, she could feel him stroking himself faster, smooth and deliberate, pumping himself, for her. The movement nudging him a little deeper with every single stroke, and gods, he had no right to feel so gentle, sogood. And the longing, the craving, was curling and coiling, higher and closer, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t, not yet —
“Need — more, first,” Geva’s breath choked, all on its own, before she’d even formed the thought. “Just — a little.”
She grimaced at the sound of it, her eyes shamefully squeezing shut — but behind her, Rathgarr hissed a low growl, and then his big hands were gripping tighter against her arse, pulling her further apart. So he could ease just a little further inside, open her just a little more…
And yes, yes, that was it, and Geva was breathing hard, her head nodding, her tongue brushing her lips. And she was dropping her other shaky hand back to the bed again, so she could arch her back, and open wider. Feeling that nudging, jutting hardness sinking even deeper, swelling even fuller than before, stretching her out around him.
