“Gods, that’s just so damnedtypical,” she made herself say, her voice not nearly her own. “Do you really mean to tell me that you’ve been depriving me of my rightful due as an orc’s mate, all this time?!”
And oh, the way the surprise flashed across Rathgarr’s eyes, instantly chased by a bright, beautiful warmth. Affection.Appreciation.
“Rubbish, my ungrateful little schoolmarm,” he purred, his eyes alight, his hand slipping a little further up her thigh. “How many times now have I freely granted you my good, fat Ash-Kai prick, and all its sweet bounty of seed? Ach, and how many times have you not eventhankedme for this?”
Geva’s affronted disbelief rose far too easily, and even more so when Rathgarr’s hand gripped her thigh a little harder, and yanked her back toward him. “You are such a greedy, overbearinglech,” she replied archly. “As if I’m going tothankyou, for giving you exactly what you want!”
But Rathgarr’s grin was still lighting up his face, his hands spreading her legs apart. “Ach, yes, you shall, my stubborn sweetling,” he drawled, as he leaned closer and inhaled, his nose gently nuzzling into the hair at her groin. “You shall thank me so loudly, I shall feel it deep in my own tongue.”
And with that, he closed the last small space between them, and again pressed his mouth against her. Kissing her so soft, so sweet, his lips and tongue so slick and warm and close. And it felt so, so good, it felt indecent, impossible, obscene, and Geva was already trembling all over again, a low moan escaping from her throat.
In return Rathgarr chuckled against her, the sound vibrating into the very core of her — and she trembled harder, gasping for air, sagging back heavier against the wall behind her. To which he took full advantage, spreading her thighs further, shifting in closer. His hot, wicked mouth opening wider against her, kissing deeper, as that silken tongue licked and stroked, slipping between, settling in hungry and intent…
And as he held her gaze, his eyes glimmering, his lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, that slick, slippery tongue slidinsideher. Inside her, into where he’d poured out only moments ago. And surely he was tasting it, swallowing it, and what was he thinking, what did it taste like, why was he groaning as that glorious tongue sank deeper, as if to drink her from the inside out…
“Ohgods,” Geva said, or perhaps sobbed, her tingling hands scraping at the stone wall behind her, and the tension was already rising, swelling, surging closer. Coiling into her wet, invaded heat clutching at him, kissing back at him, closer and closer, oh it was so good, so, sogood—
But then, suddenly, horribly, it was gone. He was gone, leaning back and away, looking up at her with those heated, long-lashed eyes. And his face was shiny and slick, with her, withthem, and the bastard was licking his lips, letting her see that long sinuous tongue, the tongue that had just beeninsideher…
“So, my ungrateful sweetling?” he purred at her. “What do you say? Shall you now behave for me?”
And damn him, bless him, because Geva’s awareness was gone, lost, forever vanished into the rapture of his succulent tongue, his beautiful eyes. “Th-thank you, Rathgarr,” she said, shuddering, searching, grasping at his head, his hair. “Please don’t stop, oh gods don’t stop,please.”
His smile was like a light, like a stunning shattering gift, and so was the gentle touch of his hand, patting against her shivering thigh. “Better,” he murmured. “You keep speaking thus, poppet, and mayhap I shall grant you your reward.”
Oh, gods, yes, Geva was furiously nodding, and fighting to drag his head closer. And he was laughing, openly and blatantly laughing, as he held his eyes to hers, and again put his mouth between her thighs.
“So good,” she gasped at him, as that mouth opened, deepened, his tongue already snaking out again, seeking up inside. “Don’t stop, please, please. It’s so good, you’re so good, you’re so gorgeous, I need you so much, please, Rathgarr, please —”
And it was so close now, her hands clutching in his hair, grinding him against her, as that slick slithering tongue sank deeper, the command already far too clear in his watching eyes. “Just — that,” she gulped. “Just — you. Oh, yes, like that, don’t stop, pleasedon’t stop—”
And he wasn’t, he didn’t, because he was so good, so stunning, the way he kept going, his tongue moving just that same way, driving her winding her breaking her apart —
She shouted and staggered as the pleasure crashed over her, whirling raw and fierce and dizzying, her desperate craving body clutching again and again on his stroking tongue. On where he was holding it still, making it stay, watching her writhe and whimper and gasp upon him. Until there was truly nothing, nothing left, and she collapsed back against the wall, destroyed, utterly spent.
It was only then that he drew out his tongue, but even now it was still lingering, kissing, caressing. Making sure she could feel it, making sure she knew who’d done this, who she owed for this.You shall thank me so loudly, I shall feel it deep in my own tongue…
“Thank you, Rathgarr,” she whispered, as he slowly drew away, that beautiful tongue again sweeping over his swollen lips, his wet, slick face. “That was… incredible.”
His swift quirk of a smile was undoubtedly smug, but also soft, and perhaps even a little shy. “Good, poppet,” he said, low. “I always knew this should please you.”
It was a strange, stilted echo of that moment back at the party, when he’d mocked her about the sons, but this time felt… different. Real. As if… he truly did mean it.
And Geva should have said something, some clever quip about being deprived or bamboozled, perhaps, but she could only seem to blink down at him, at her hands still sunk into his thick black hair. And finally he eased up to his feet again, once more looming over her, his body so big, so warm, hers. He liked it. Liked this. Liked her.
“So what do I need to do,” she whispered, “to get that again?”
And gods, the way his eyes warmed again, the way he smiled. As though this was exactly what he wanted, exactly how she should please him. Exactly the kind of challenge he needed. Three weeks…
“Mayhap you shall keep behaving for me, this night,” he murmured. “Thanking me, as is my due. And” — his brows rose — “sucking out as much of my good seed as you can swallow, ach?”
And yes, yes, Geva was already nodding, meeting his challenge, facing it head-on. “Hell, yes,” she breathed. “I’ll do my best.”
33
Geva scarcely slept that night.
It was as though they’d broken through some barrier she hadn’t known existed, crashing over it with pure, barrelling hunger. With Geva willingly caressing at Rathgarr, grasping at him, sucking him deep in the dark, shivering all over his huge, beautiful body.
