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I nod, because I understand. I want to be joined with him the way my body has been craving. It’s a need I’ve never felt before, a consuming urge that now threatens to boil over.
Suddenly Drazak grabs me by both arms and turns me over so I’m lying flat on my back. He swings his leg across until he’s on top of me, the weight of his hips over mine keeping me rooted to the earth. He shoves his cock between my thighs, groaning as they ruthlessly squeeze him. Pausing to take a few deep breaths, Drazak looks down at me, his body even bigger now than I remember it being. For a moment his usual stern look fades, and a smile pulls his tusks up on his cheeks. His hard brow, his barrel belly, the set of his jaw—I whimper, wanting him, desiring nothing else but him. Beside us, Han’zir groans.
“Fuck her, Drazak,” he demands, and all of his usual playfulness has been replaced by pure longing. “I need to see you inside her. Esme, you want him, don’t you?”
There is, perhaps, nothing else in the world more erotic than my troll insisting that my orc shove his cock into me. I think it is far beyond my wildest dream, and surely this isn’t real.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Please.” Drazak’s yellow eyes lock onto mine with a feral intensity, then he nods and pulls my thighs wide, gripping me so tight I wonder if I’ll bruise. His fingers travel down, and now instead of just one there are two squeezing inside me, demanding that I open wide for him. My head falls back and my pussy is both fighting him and crying for him. He gathers up all of my wetness, slathering his fingers in it, and once more works them inside me.
Now my moan is a cry, and Drazak falls down onto one elbow, gasping with effort. “I need you, keva,” he mutters in my ear, drawing his tongue across the shell of it as he strokes inside me, finding a delicious, sensitive spot that makes my very being ache with pleasure. And then suddenly, there is a third finger, and this time it’s followed by a pinch of discomfort. I wince, and Drazak stops.
“Wait one moment,” says Han’zir. He presses his body to my side, running his hands over my breasts, gently cupping each one in his hand. His lips traverse my cheek, then my jaw and my throat. His cock nudges at my thigh, sending a shock of thrill through me. “Let him in, sweet keva.”
It’s as if my body is a puppet on his strings, because Drazak’s three fingers are now fully encased in me, twisting and spreading to open me for him. While Han’zir devotes himself to touching me, my orc removes his hand, and draws my thighs apart even further. Then he kneels between them, his dark green cock lying across my mound. His eyes find mine as he drags it downward, over my sensitive button and back again, that soft head escaping the skin protecting it to rub over me in a harsh, feverish motion. His gaze is piercing, intent only on me.
“Please,” I say again. My words make him moan, and he shoves his cock down even further. Without warning, the soft tip dips inside me.
Now I understand his three fingers. It’s too much, too big, too everything, even though I want it—crave it—more than food or water or shelter. I wriggle my hips, trying to bring him inside me, but Drazak holds me still, just waiting at the edge. Han’zir leans in close and reaches down between us, his hand finding my stretched edges and stroking up and down them.
“Take him, keva,” Han’zir whispers to me, splaying his fingers to spread my pussy wide.
“Yes, yes,” I answer. Drazak lets out an animalistic grunt as he pushes in.
I can’t stop the cry that comes out of me when that fat, swollen head breaks through. In the same breath that it pinches, it also feels like perfect bliss. Drazak silences me with his lips, plunging his tongue inside me the way his cock is filling me as he sinks in deeper. He groans, pausing his entry, and withdraws himself again.
“Drazak!” It comes out a whine, and my orc chuckles to himself as once more he retreats, and then pushes in only part way, taunting me, teasing me, and soon I’m writhing underneath him, begging for more. Han’zir’s mouth is open as he watches, his cock leaking from the tip, and it only makes me more desperate to have Drazak inside me.
“Do you want it?” he asks, rocking his hips in and out, barely breaching me. “Do you want all of me?”
“Yes, please. Please.” I need nothing else in this whole cruel world besides him.
My orc leans down, kissing the planes of my face, whispering Trollkin words I can’t understand. And then in one smooth motion, he thrusts in.
My cry fills up the room, and Han’zir gasps. Drazak pitches down, his face in my neck as he yanks himself out, and then fills me again, deeper and harder this time. Somewhere inside me there’s a place carved out just for him, and when he settles there, buried as far as my body will allow, it feels as if a broken pot is putting itself back together, the shards clicking into place.
Beside us, Han’zir suddenly gets off the bed, but I’m so lost in the feeling of Drazak that I don’t notice where he’s going. Slowly my orc starts to move again, never leaving me, simply reeling his hips back an inch or two and then thrusting into my depths, stretching me so wide I don’t know how I don’t burst apart. Every single stroke triggers a shock of agonizing pleasure, so intense that my body gives as much as it squeezes, softening as much as it clamps down tight around him. Drazak slides a hand under my hips, lifting me up, allowing him even deeper, and he groans as he bites into the flesh of my shoulder.
“Drazak,” I moan, wrapping both my arms tight around his neck because I need to hold onto him, otherwise I might float away.
“Keva,” he grunts back, pressing his face against me, his curved tusks biting into my skin. As our bodies meld closer and closer together, I find I’m missing something, that a piece of our structure is absent.
That’s when I see Han’zir over Drazak’s back, his face taut with bare, animalistic hunger. He kisses his shoulder as Drazak sinks inside me again, rubbing the orc’s body with his even larger hands.
“There you are,” I whisper, reaching towards him. When my five fingers meet Han’zir’s four, they wrap around each other, and suddenly each of Drazak’s strokes feels even more immense, more wonderful. When he looks down at me, his eyes are wide.
It’s as if the whole world is shifting around us, rearranging to make room for us, and we are fitting together in the place we were always meant to be.
Chapter 11
Drazak
How it feels to be inside our girl. To fill her, to be squeezed and clenched by her, to look upon her small face and to smother her in my affection—it is unparalleled.
Or I thought that it was, until Han’zir steps behind me, his hands traversing my back and my hips as I thrust into her, taking her, claiming her as ours. My troll’s hands wander downward, over my ass to where I’m buried inside Esme’s sopping wet cunt. There he takes my balls in his hand, massaging them just the way I like.
“Fuck,” I groan. “I’m going to explode if you do that.”
“That’s not all I’ll do,” Han’zir growls back, and there’s a headiness in his voice, a low rumble I’ve never heard before. Watching us has stirred something up in him, too, and it is large and fearsome. While I drown in Esme’s sweet, wet, perfect cunt, Han’zir snatches the oil off the table beside our bed, coating his fingers in it, and runs them down my backside.
