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“Varzig,” I said with teeth clenched, fighting against the bodily yearning. “We have to stop. We can’t do this.”
His fingers had been toying with the front of my dress, laboriously unbuttoning the front, when he pulled his hands away to rest at my sides. My body remains spread out beneath him, knees drifting outward with a supernatural pull. I can feel my pussy pulsing under my various garments, frustrated by its concealment
But my brain takes over, and my hands rise up to Varzig’s chest, which is naturally strong and firm. It makes me wince, drops of my arousal honeying my underwear.
“What’s wrong?” he asked kindly.
I remove my hands from his chest to keep myself from losing it again. My body has gone hard, and I lightly shimmy myself out from under his. It pains me to do so, but somehow, I manage it.
“It’s too fast for me. I’m sorry,” I said, shooting up to my feet. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. So I think we should … go slow.”
My words don’t seem to cut him as deep as I was afraid they would. I don’t refuse him outright. I merely delay him.
“There’s no problem with that,” he said, rising to his feet. “I will go as slow as you want, Tessa. My goal is to make you feel good … not bad.”
His words send a pleasant shiver up my spine, and I nearly spin around and pull his massive, delicious body on top of mine. It’s a hunger I have never experienced before, something that cannot be satiated without him.
I try to put my swelling desire into energy for the hike home. I narrow my focus on sleep and the various chores that must be completed in the morning. Varzig followed me back without a word, the moonlight a romantic reminder of our first magical kiss.
I lick my lips, his taste still lingering as I trod through the dark night. Then the moon slides out from behind the gray veil and shines down on us unrelentingly. I try to avoid the craving and the naughty thoughts I’m having, thinking how wonderful it would feel to straddle him in the field under the moonlight, taking in his likely giant cock into my touch-starved pussy.
I squeeze my eyes shut and keep moving. Varzig doesn’t make another move toward me until we get back into the house, doing our best to keep from awakening my parents as the floorboards creak.
“We can discuss more in the morning,” I whispered to him in the hallway.
He nods, his head bent awkwardly in order to fit in the dwelling. His eyes glow in the dark, a vibrating, stunning red. He bent toward me, and just when I thought he was going to kiss me again, he placed a hand on my shoulder.
It sends goosebumps over my skin, despite the lightness of the touch.
“I hope I didn’t offend you earlier,” he murmured. “You’re just so, so alluring, Tessa. I won’t do it again unless you ask me to.”
My fingers come to my lips, tracing them like the velvet petals they are. My bedroom door is behind him, and despite the fact that his large body would never fit in my bed, we could find our passion on the floor … if I was only so bold.
But my fear makes my body freeze once again, so I nod at him, unable to meet the warmth of his gaze.
“You didn’t offend me,” I muttered. “I’m just not ready yet.”
Varzig nods, and he lets me go. I scurried inside like a rodent, frantically shutting the door before I had a split second to change my mind.
I managed to resist touching myself, despite the flow of desire staining my underwear and keeping me awake. It would be something that would slow my desire for Varzig, or it would simply be like adding dry leaves to a spark, encouraging the fire rather than stifling it.
Over the next several days and nights, I kept my longing to myself while Varzig continued to earn my favor. He helped out on the farm, his massive size and strength coming in handy when the various animals and humans got fatigued. He slaughtered dinner and even cooked a few times, despite his confusion with human recipes. I caught him glancing at me during the evenings when we read or talked about the possibly encroaching war. I see the same look of longing in his eyes that I see pouring out of my own.
The villagers shower Varzig with praise, and the only gifts they can summon are human foods, mostly showing up at our doorstep as pies. We went into the village a few times to check on the orc invasion, with Varzig shielding himself in a cloak made from curtain material. I find this endearing, for whatever reason, in the same way I find his devouring of the pies adorable.
The days dredge on, and there are times when Varzig isn’t around, and I can let myself breathe. He’s still searching for ways to fight against the orcs but also doesn’t want to stay out too long and encourage a sneak attack by the orcs.
While he’s away one night, I find the book on my nightstand throbbing like a beating heart. I’m sitting up in bed, listening for his footsteps in the hallway and staring at the beautiful leather-bound artifact. Sometimes I reach out and touch it, just so I can feel something other than exhaustion and yearning.
“Would it really be so bad …” I croon to myself.
I lift up the book and place it on my legs. It’s thick and heavy but feels nice resting on my thighs. I flip it open and stare, drumming my fingers upon the white pages.
My mind is running wild with the various ways I could narrate a scene where Varzig returns to me, wound up, with his cock as hard as a brick. Then he ravishes me right here in this bed. I close my eyes and think about his tongue that I felt swirl around mine, that I almost felt take on my hardening nipples, sliding up my thighs, and teasing at my entrance.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.
I’m possessed by lust once more and almost lean over to get my ink and feather to construct a romantic and passionate scene. But I squeeze my hands into a fist, slam the book shut, and toss it reluctantly onto the floor
