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His gaze is troubled but he releases me to explore further down, beneath the cut of his pants. His pale flesh is smooth and naturally hairless, and what I find between his legs is something I can work with. He’s longer and thicker than any man, but there are things far more frightening in Ti’lith.
“You’re sure?” he asks, tucking my wild hair behind one ear.
Without a word, I nod.
Despite his protests, he has already gone hard, and I stroke him with a diligent sweep. The rest of his body goes rigid when I flick the tip.
He wants this too.
Giroth’s eyes are wide when I mount him, tugging down my pants to let my heat envelop his girth. His jaw goes slack, and he catches my hips, but remains silent as I fill myself to burst. Every inch is delicious agony, pushing me beyond my limit. When he twinges inside of me, I let out an unfettered moan, biting my lip to stifle my cries as I sink all the way down to the hilt.
He grips the back of my neck and drags me flush against him, our lips finally connecting after I’ve spent all this time starved for a taste of them. His lips are soft yet insistent, and his warm tongue commands mine. Giroth takes over, rolling me onto my back as he finds an even pace, skewering me into the mattress.
All the while, his gaze is sharp with worry.
I kiss away his uncertainty, sweat wicking off my flesh in our feverish union. My body surges beneath him as if it’s not enough, though he strikes my end with each deep thrust. I catch his heavy horns and guide his face to my bare chest.
His mouth explores, taking a nipple between his sharpened teeth and drawing it in. He slides an arm beneath me and drags me up to meet him, so I’m suspended by his strength alone. I throw my head back with a jubilant laugh, my body rioting around him with the rise of my peak. Can he sense it? I wonder, clinging onto him for dear life as the pace increases.
There’s a rumble in his chest, and he scours my mouth before dragging me hard against him, losing his seed in me. He fills me up irreverently. I shudder and jerk with the weight inside of me, reveling in the knowledge that I wasn’t wrong about him.
He is kind, gentle, and everything I could have hoped for in a lover.
Giroth buries his face in the crook of my shoulder when he’s finished, our breaths slowing in tandem. I cling onto him, never wanting this to end, kissing his cheek to let him know that I’m okay, and that this is so very right.
24
GIROTH
My eyes open gradually, the slight weight on my chest a reminder of what happened last. I glance down at Cora’s sleeping face, obscured by her tangled golden hair.
When I draw it away, there’s a smile playing about her lips.
I can’t help but smile in turn, pressing my nose to her crown and taking in her scent. It mingles with mine, so that I know I have ruined her for the King’s experiment. But I cannot bring myself to feel guilty, when we did nothing wrong.
I am just glad she survived our pairing.
I recall how her body rioted around me as she forced me to fit inside of her. She was silent and insistent, as if she understood the implications of what we did.
I’d expect nothing less from her.
My mind strays to my duties, and the other women who still tremble in fear at the sight of me. Their paperwork is concluded, and today is the day I must deliver them to the King. My full heart sinks as I readjust Cora in the bed and slip free of her sweet embrace. She’ll be safe here while I meet with the King.
I dress slowly, considering what I might say. I have had no luck in discovering the whereabouts of Cora’s sister, and I will have to answer for that. He may punish me for my oversight, and I will accept it with grace. It feels as much as my own castigation as that of the women I’ve tirelessly recorded these past few days. I just hope I’m allowed to return to Cora to explain before any sentence is carried out.
On my way out the door, I call on my dark elf slaves. “Make sure she has everything she needs,” I tell them, scouring their neutral expressions and dull, violet eyes. “And remain scarce. She is not fond of your kind.”
They dip their heads in unison. “Yes, master.”
Satisfied, I take my leave and head to the cell blocks.
There, the women are huddled in a tight circle, whispering to one another. As if they have secrets we care about. The Trolvor guards let me through into the borrowed store room that has become something akin to a bunker for the humans.
One sees me, then the rest follow her gaze, and they all go silent.
I maintain a dour expression. “Stand up,” I order, leaving no room for questions. But they are not like Cora, and they do so without hesitation. A few begin to weep again as I number them. Twenty one, I count, satisfied that no more have gone missing in my absence.
“This way,” I say, putting my hand out to the only exit behind me. “Behave, and there will be no need to bind you in irons again.”
