And with that, he pushed in.
Just the tapered head. I exhaled a shuddering breath, expecting it to burn. But the oil was impossibly slippery, and the tingling warmth had wicked into me.
Kof’s hand came to rest on the small of my back in a silent reassurance. He pressed forward, slow and steady, and I felt my body yield. There was a moment of intense pressure, and then he was inside, filling me so completely that I could scarcely breathe.
It should have hurt—but all I felt was that delicious tingle, and the slickness of oil, and the satisfying, all-encompassing fullness. It wasn’t exactly numb. In fact, it was the opposite. I could feel his cock inside me, pulsing with every beat of his heart. But the pain I’d been expecting simply wasn’t there, and the only thing I had to focus on was the pleasure.
And when he thrust, I moaned. It was a low, guttural sound I hardly recognized as coming from me, and it echoed ruthlessly off the cave walls.
Kof’s reply was a clipped grunt. His free hand grasped my hip to pin me in place as he began to move.
Each thrust was totally measured, and infinitely deliberate. And every single one brought him just a bit deeper, until finally, his pelvis brushed against my rump, and I realized he’d somehow seated that length—thatgirth—all the way inside me. He let go of my hip and folded his whole body over mine, simultaneously filling and enveloping me. And it felt like he and I had truly merged, both inside and out.
I pushed back against him with a desperate eagerness and encouraged him to take me.
And we fucked.
The wet slap of skin on skin was obscenely loud in the quiet of the cavern. With every thrust, I inched toward the peak as my body coiled tighter and tighter.
Maybe Kof thought he couldn’t own a slave, and that this was the only night he’d be allowed. But the Shaman had a human consort. And Kof had taken down Pilgrim. Orcs reward bravery—he could ask for anything—he could ask for me to stay.
The hand I’d normally stroke myself off with was bound to my side, and the other arm was wedged between my forehead and the unyielding trunk lid. But I was so lost to sensation, my straining dick needed no help from me.
Without so much as a stroke, my climax hit me—sudden and fierce and all-consuming. I cried out, and my voice echoed off the stone walls as my body clenched desperately around Kof’s massive cock. I was dimly aware of him stiffening behind me and filling me with his hot orcish seed. But mostly I was just riding the wave of my own soul-wrenching peak.
We collapsed together on the trunk. Kof’s weight pressed me into the wood. His breath was harsh and ragged in my ear, andI could feel his heart pounding in time with mine. As I lay there, spent and sated, I did indeed feel as though I’d been well and truly claimed.
For so long, I’d told myself I wanted freedom. The sea, the wind, no one to answer to. But what I really wanted was this—a man who could touch me without shame, who could hold me like I belonged to no one but him.
And Kof could have that, too.
He just had to believe he was allowed to want it.
Kof was so big that he didn’t even slide from me as he softened, and the two of us were joined, back to front, for a long moment that seemed to float outside time. I could have stayed that way forever—or at least until my thighs cramped. And soon my heart stopped pounding and my breathing evened out. But before I had to wrench myself out from under him—and while I still had a good excuse not to look him in the eye—I forced myself to say, “I would welcome a brand on my cheek, if it meant I could stay with you.”
26
Kof
I pulled on my breeches, my boots, my leathers. Anything to avoid Eli’s earnest eyes. But finally, the weight of his gaze forced me to say, “Don’t be so fast to take a brand for me. You don’t know what I’ve done.” The words felt heavy on my tongue, but I forced myself to speak them. “I betrayed the shaman’s trust. Not in a small way. In a way no one comes back from.”
“The specifics don’t matter. But I knowexactlywhat you did—you saved your clan. You deserve a reward.”
He was wrong. All that mattered was honor. And I’d done away with mine the moment I stole from my shaman. Maybe humans invented rules as they went along and hoped all would be forgiven if they managed to make things right. But I was an orc. My code was something by which I lived—or died.
I couldn’t predict whether Eli would be turned loose to find his own way, or end up in the slave pits. Both roads would be rough, especially at the verge of winter. My intervention would soon be worthless, so I’d left him with the only thing I could: myscent. Outside the gates, it might protect him from predators. And as for the slave pits…hopefully any new master would be reluctant to couple with a slave who bore the stink of a traitor.
With a heavy heart, I took up my spear in one hand and the damned gold collar in the other. I turned away from Eli and strode out of the chamber. My steps were heavy with purpose. The burden of the collar weighed on me. Eli trailed behind me, his questions falling on deaf ears.
“Kof, what is it? Where are you going?”
I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The truth would come soon enough.
We reached my destination, and I pushed through a curtain of clattering bones and beads. Arcane objects filled the dim natural chamber, remnants of old Taruut’s tenure. Droko looked out of place among the relics, more warrior than mystic. He was perched on the edge of Taruut’s litter with his ancestral blade across his lap. The scrape of stone on metal filled the air as he sharpened it with a sure, even stroke.
“Shaman,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “There’s something I can no longer keep from you.”
Droko looked up. His eyes were unreadable. He set aside the whetstone but left the blade balanced across his knees.
