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My cock thickens and lengthens, spitting an enthusiastic blob of pre-cum behind my pants. The tiny hairs on my body rise as I remember that stormy day when I took her to the barn and licked all the juices from her sweet cunt.
I think she does.
With a growl, I turn and stalk for the low tarp that makes a tent of sorts. It is not cold here, and the camp is well-guarded. Not that anyone would threaten me.
My hands shake as I consider her being at risk again. I have been fucking negligent and will not do that anymore. If events at Krug serve any purpose, it is to cement that I am hers and she is mine.
I strip her of her clothing, ripping it a little in my haste, half mindless with my need to taste her.
“Doug?”
Her demand comes out a little whiney as she is tossed onto her back amid the thick fur that lines my little tent. I lick my lips, taking in the image of her spread out for me, legs wide, wet pussy on display, and plump tits heaving in the most enticing way.
She likes it when we master her,my beast assures me, prancing under my skin, preening for our mate even though she cannot fucking see.
“Do you want to put it in me?”
I freeze.
“Doug, please. I am so wet and ready for you.”
Gods, she is a fucking test. My eyes lower to her pussy. I am obsessed with it, the feel of it under my fingers, the taste. I imagine how good it would be to sink my cock inside her, to feel her silken walls wrap around me. Sinking into a daze, I lower my hand to her most intimate place and carefully push a finger inside her hot, wet cunt.
She moans and clenches over me.
“Yes, please, yes.” She rocks her hips, seeking more.
My cock is hard and thumping for release—my beast growls his encouragement. My other hand is at my waist, loosening the tie as I kick off my boots and shove the pants down, all the while finger fucking her needy place. Just the scent of her has me half out of my mind. I thrust a second finger in, eyes darting between what I do and her face, searching for any signs that she wants me to stop.
My nostrils flare when I see that she does not want me to stop; in fact she is humping up for more.
My cock aches. My balls are heavy and swollen—the mutilated gland near the base is throbbing.
I should not do this. I should wait. Eat her out and make her come, and then hold her in my arms like I usually do. I am nothing but a mutt, neither an orc nor a shifter. I am an abomination that should have been drowned at birth.
“Goddess, please, Doug!”
Her cry cuts through the dark void, filled with my mother’s harsh words, into which I was sinking.
Somehow, and against all probability, she wants me and only me. This tiny, sweet, caring human woman is begging for me to take her, tomateher.
My fingers are gone, and my wet cock head nestles against her entrance. It is only now that I see how big I am compared to my fingers, how obscene I look against her tiny entrance that is tight around two fingers. I’m trembling with the strain of holding back, of resisting the hot, wet place that I want to make mine.
I have never rutted any female, neither woman nor orc. I have rutted no one. I am frozen in confused terror that I might do this wrong. Yet, at the same time, I find that I am also sinking into her, feeling her tight place sucking on the tip of my cock and encouraging me to give her more.
I press deeper, my eyes flashing to her face just in time to see her wince.
With a roar, I try to pull away, but she clamps her small legs around me, and all I do is lift her from the fur. I try to peel the brat off—she clings tighter.
* * *
Jasmine
He thinks he is hurting me. “I am fine, Doug. It was just a surprise.” Gods, he is hard work with his fear of breaking me. I admit to being a little nervous, but we shall never get past this. I must show no reaction as he cleaves his flesh into me, which will surely be a test for me when he is huge there. He has been preparing me for many weeks, rousing me to pleasure, using his fingers and tongue, making my body sing. Perhaps there is more that might be done, yet I do not want to wait—I did not want to wait this long.
We hang at an impasse. My legs are locked on his waist, as we stare at one another with his thick cock head wedged inside me, promising an enticing fullness and pleasure.
I stoke my hands over his big, brawny shoulders, feeling the tremble in him. Perhaps there is no amount of preparation that can be enough when a woman mates with an orc. The knowledge that they do gives me the courage to go on. I pet his shoulders. “Please don’t stop.”
