Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Kesha
My eyes felt all crusty and my body ached—I needed another hot bath.
However, lying in Korrad’s bed Saturday morning, watching a shaft of sunlight creep across the ceiling with his arm around me, I felt…strangely at peace. Warm and safe, definitely, but also…
I’d spent so long being afraid. Afraid of what the future would bring, afraid of what I could do to fix my fuck-ups. Then I moved to Eastshore, and I realized how great my life was, and I was afraid of those fuck-ups showing up to ruin this future.
Last night, everything came crashing down, and as horrible as it was, a part of me was glad to have it all out in the open. Like a cheap champagne cork under pressure that finally pops, it was almost a relief. I sobbed myself to sleep, and then after…
After.
Korrad came home and held me and listened and said the most wonderful things. Said I brought happiness and comfort and that he loved me.
I wasn’t sure if I could believe I needed to stop keeping score, but that love?
I believed him on that. And I told him I loved him too, and he said that was enough, and then he held me and fed me—apparently lo mein pairs well with pinot grigio—and we chuckled our way through a movie about a romance novelist going on an adventure in the jungle with a hottie, and I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder.
Vaguely, I remember Korrad carrying me into the bedroom, waking me enough to get ready for bed. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of having a husband who was big enough to carry me places.
I must’ve slept hard. The kind of sleep you sleep when your eyes ache from crying and you feel hollow inside.
But this morning?
This morning I felt like something furry had died on my tongue, but I also felt like the world was full of cautious possibilities. We had a weekend alone, and we loved each other.
So I slowly, carefully, slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Korrad. I tiptoed into the bedroom I’d shared with Milo all these weeks, and collected my toiletries and my robe, and used the hall bathroom to brush the wine scum from my teeth.
Feeling way more human, I wrapped my fuzzy robe around myself and padded into the kitchen. And yes, I found myself humming as I made Korrad’s coffee and began to mix pancake batter. Apparently, I wasn’t just feeling better physically, but emotionally as well.
Humming. Like a princess in an animated movie.
I snorted softly to myself as I put the bacon in the oven and scrounged around for the waffle iron.
I knew it was in that cabinet somewhere.
Korrad had built his house to orc dimensions, because he hadn’t guessed he’d be adding a human wife and son.
Luckily, I was tall for a woman, and Milo got his height from me, so the counters were above the usual waist-height, but they weren’t too high to work with.
Saturday morning, making a big breakfast for my husband. I smiled at how right it felt to be puttering around like this.
A sudden thought stilled my hand as I closed the waffle maker for the first batch: Milo would be going off to school or work in eight years, and Jay even earlier.
Sure, they’d come home to visit, but in less than a decade, Korrad and I would have this place to ourselves.
I glanced around, wondering what it would be like to live like this all the time, without the noise and chaos two little boys brought.
Thoughtfully, I dropped a hand to my stomach. What if I had another baby? After the disaster of a relationship with Milo’s father, I’d been so careful not to let it happen again, but…
Orcs and humans can only have a child if they’re Mated.
Jocelyn told me that, and I’d seen the evidence all over the island, as more and more of the Mated pairs had been popping out babies.
Oh well. I probably don’t need that level of stress anyhow.
With a sigh, I went back to breakfast prep, and by the time I heard the shower running in Korrad’s bathroom, I was laying out the last of the breakfast foods.
As I sipped my tea, I plated a few pieces of bacon, a large stack of waffles, and poured some orange juice to put on the kitchen island. I’d have it waiting when—
I sucked in a gasp when a huge pair of arms wrapped around my middle, and Korrad pulled me back against him so he could nuzzle my neck. With a noise that was part squeal, part exasperation, I smacked his hand.
“You’re not supposed to move that quietly. I could have stabbed you!”
“Your knife is over by the sink.” He hummed, sounding a) happy to be holding me, and b) not at all afraid of my threat. “Not my fault you didn’t hear me coming.” He nuzzled me again. “I could hear you all the way from the bedroom.”
I stilled guiltily. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
Korrad’s tusk scraped under my ear, making me shiver. “No. I just…woke up and knew exactly where you were, how you were feeling.”
He must’ve heard me humming, I supposed.
Having his arms around me, having his lips brushing against my skin…
I was beginning to get ideas. When I turned in his hold so I could wrap my arms around his waist, the tie on my robe loosened enough to reveal more of my boobs than was probably legal.
I realized he was wearing only those cotton pajama pants, low on his hips.
I got a very naughty idea, indeed.
Smiling wickedly up at him, I began to play with the waistband of his pants. “You remember what I said yesterday?”
Korrad’s voice was unusually hoarse as he tightened his hold on me. “I remember you saying a lot of things.”
I pressed a kiss to his pecs and grinned when I felt his cock jumping against my stomach.
“I told you…” I deliberately drew out my words teasingly as I sank down into a crouch, pulling his waistband as I went. “That I wanted to make you feel good.”
His cock jumped free of his pants, which I left down around his knees, and my mouth watered just looking at it. When I wrapped my hands around it—I still couldn’t believe I’d been able to fit this monster thing inside me!—we both sucked in a breath.
I leaned forward, my robe falling from my shoulders to rest in the crooks of my elbows, and licked the tip.
“Kesha…” he groaned, one of his hands going to my head, and my arousal jumped.
I wrapped my lips around the thick head of his cock, my tongue swirling over the tip.
The taste of him—musky and dark, with that delicious spicy precum already leaking free—sent a jolt of heat straight to my core.
My hand couldn’t even close around his girth, but I stroked what I could while my mouth worked the rest, taking him as deep as I dared.
This thing was inside me the other night.
Just the reminder made me groan and sent a fresh wave of arousal to my core.
Korrad’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening in my hair—not to guide me, just to hold on. “Fuck, dkaar—” His voice was rough, strained. “Your mouth is—gods—”
I hummed around him, the vibration making his cock twitch. I loved this, loved the way his thighs trembled, loved the way his breath came in sharp gasps. Loved the power of knowing I could reduce this big, strong orc to a panting, groaning mess with just my lips and tongue.
I pulled back, letting my saliva coat him before diving down again, my mouth opening as much as it could. His ridges dragged against my tongue, the sensation making me whimper. I wanted him deeper, wanted to take all of him, but he was just too big.
My fingers worked his base, twisting slightly with each upward stroke of my mouth.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with praise. “Just like that, love. Fuck, you’re so good at this—so perfect—”
I moaned around him, the sound muffled, and his hips jerked forward involuntarily. His hand stroked my hair, his touch almost reverent. “Look at you, swallowing my cock like you were made for it. So fucking beautiful when you’re on your knees for me—”
A shiver ran through me, my own arousal dripping down my thighs because of the angle I was crouched.
I wanted to touch myself, wanted to slide my fingers between my legs and ease the ache, but I didn’t dare stop.
Not when he was so close, not when his breathing was getting ragged, his muscles tensing beneath my hands.
“Kesha—fuck—” His voice was a warning, a plea. “I’m gonna come. You want me down your throat or across your tits?”
I wanted that. Wanted it so badly. I remembered how it felt to be coated in his cum, claimed and marked by him… But my pussy hadn’t reacted to his cinnamon spice, and that reminded me of what I wanted even more.
I pulled back with a wet pop, my lips swollen, my chin glistening.
Grinning up at him, I licked my lips deliberately.
“I want you to come inside me.” My voice was husky, thick with need as I murmured the sort of shit heroines said in those erotic romances I sometimes edited.
“I want you to fill my aching pussy up with your hot orc cum, Korrad.”
His entire body went still, as if he was processing my request. For a heartbeat, the only sound was our ragged breathing. Then—
He moved fast.
One second I was on the tile floor in front of him, the next his hands were under my arms, hauling me up like I weighed nothing. My robe was torn away, the fabric hitting the floor with a whisper.
He spun me around, his grip firm on my hips, and then I was being lifted—
The counter was just a little too high for me to bend over comfortably, but Korrad didn’t hesitate. He hoisted me up, my chest pressing against the cool granite, my boobs flattening, my fingers scrabbling for purchase.
The plate of breakfast I’d prepared teetered—crash—waffles and bacon hit the floor, but I didn’t care. Not when Korrad’s hands were spreading me open, not when he was lifting one of my legs as he stepped between them, not when the thick head of his cock was pressing against my dripping entrance.
“You sure?” His voice was a growl, rough with need, but there was a thread of concern beneath it. Always looking out for me, even now.
Consent was fucking sexy, wasn’t it?