Chapter 37 #3
And he was in. Gaelfr was all the way inside her, there, buried to the hilt, his bollocks swelling full and fat into her crease. And Raye could only arch and shudder and moan with it, so loud she could scarcely hear the murmurs of approval from around them.
But beneath her, that was approval in Kalfr’s hooded eyes too, in the unmistakable flush on his cheeks, and his own jutting cock was flexing and throbbing against her now, wanting more.
Wanting to be fully sheathed again, and Raye cried out as Gaelfr began easing her back downwards.
Making her take Kalfr back inside her too, swallowing his rigid length breath by breath, filling her with shocking, staggering fullness.
The sensation was so tight and so overwhelming she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t stop the loud, helpless cries escaping from her mouth.
They were filling her to the brim, to the brink, to the edge of her limit, and still they kept going, deeper and deeper, until they were both seated fully inside, jammed long and tight up against each other, with only Raye’s taut tender flesh straining between them.
And at the first gentle rock of Kalfr’s hips, grinding them all even tighter together, Raye was utterly lost, writhing and wailing upon them, as waves of dizzying, devastating ecstasy wrenched through her again and again and again.
Kalfr and Gaelfr could surely feel it too, both their bodies stiffening, driving even deeper inside her — and it was Kalfr who broke first, his head tipping back, his body arching beneath her, as he sprayed out sharp spurts of molten seed into her frantically clutching heat.
While behind her, Gaelfr sharply inhaled, his teeth scraping against Raye’s throat, and with a jerky thrust, he poured out too, flooding her with even more fullness, so much it was suddenly painful, dangerous and ready to burst —
Until Gaelfr’s strong hands swiftly drew Raye’s body up and away from them both, releasing both their thick invasions with a sharp sucking sensation, and a slick, lurid squelch — and then, oh gods, the seed.
The seed, surging out both Raye’s used, opened holes in hot, rushing torrents, pouring down to pool on the altar below.
Raye’s face burned as it just kept pouring, and she desperately fought to hold herself upright, and to shove down the image of what this must look like.
Her shaky body on her hands and knees, her breasts hanging out, her chemise rucked up.
While the seed just kept streaming out from inside her, and how could there be so much, how could she possibly bear it?
But then, finally, it slowed. First into a steady stream, and then an oozing, dripping trickle. And only then did Raye register Gaelfr’s hand, stroking steadily against her sticky flank, just like it had done that entire time. Silently speaking of his comfort, and his… approval.
And when Raye darted a wide-eyed glance back toward him, the approval was there in his eyes, too.
Approval, and even a stunned, awestruck appreciation, as he blatantly eyed the sight still on display.
Raye’s trembling body still gaping slack and wide from both places where they’d opened her, their seed still trickling down like an offering, or an anointing.
Because — right. The offering. And fuck, what had Silfast said to her, before all this? Have you anointed this altar with his fresh seed? Have you begged his favour thus, and pleaded with him to call down the goddess’ blessing upon you?
Right. Right. That was what Raye was supposed to be doing, even after all this. And she’d come this far, she could manage the rest, she could make herself do this. She could make herself look back at Kalfr’s painfully handsome face, his inscrutable watching eyes, and…
“Please, Kalfr,” she whispered, hoarse and wavering. “Please, I… I beg your favour. And I… beg you to — to call down the goddess’ blessing upon me.”
The shame burned in her cheeks, in her throat, but she held her eyes to Kalfr’s, and waited.
Waited as he looked back at her, his eyes again blank, utterly unreadable — and it belatedly occurred to Raye, bitter and sickening, that apart from his cock, he hadn’t once touched her in all that.
Had he? He hadn’t touched her, or spoken a word, or betrayed any hint of affection or approval.
Even as she’d thoroughly displayed and debased herself for him, and had done some of the most shameful things she could possibly imagine with him, in public.
But maybe he still hated her. Maybe this had just been another punishment. He’d told her there was no way she could gain his forgiveness, right? No way she could ever atone for what she’d done?
And now… now, he could so easily destroy her. He could refuse. He could mock her, or say how hideous and disappointing she’d been. He could get up, and walk away. There is naught you could ever, ever do…
Raye was fully trembling now, cowering closer to the fur, bracing herself for his answer. Gods, what would she do if he publicly rejected her, how would she survive, where would she go, what about Svein?
Kalfr’s eyes flickered, his chest rising and falling, and with a jerky movement, he shoved up onto his knees on the fur. Not looking at Raye, now, but tilting his head up, and raising his fist to his heart.
“Goddess of Bautul,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “I bring this woman before you, and before all our kin. I wish you to…”
He hesitated, his eyes flickering down toward Raye, flaring something sharp and anguished through her belly, but then he squared his shoulders, took a breath.
“I wish you to see her great bravery,” he continued.
“I wish you to see all the care and kindness and safety she has granted our son. I wish you to see how she seeks to honour both me and my ástvinur, and to make amends.”
What? Raye jolted and stared at him, because he — what? He’d said there was no way to make amends. No path to forgiveness. And now — now —
“And thus,” he said, on a heavy exhale, as he raised his eyes to the stone ceiling, “I seek your favour toward her. I ask you to call down your blessing upon her.”
The goddess’ favour. Her blessing. Kalfr was truly saying this, truly asking for this, for Raye. Before all his kin.
The truth of it swelled in Raye’s chest, bright and shaky and dangerous, and before she could stop it, a hoarse, gulping sob escaped from her burning throat. The sound echoing through the hushed room, ringing loud and shameful and strange.
But in its wake, something… stilled. Something that sagged Raye’s shoulders, slowed her breaths, held her eyes on her mate’s kneeling, pleading body.
He was so beautiful, so pure, and she could almost feel his goddess’ blessing settling down around him, circling like a halo over his bowed head, alighting on his gleaming shoulders.
So strong that Raye couldn’t bear to look at him, and she bent herself lower before him, her hand over her thudding heart, and even pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the fur beneath his knees.
Honouring him, worshipping him as the true, generous, glorious goddess’ son he was.
And surely, the rest of them saw it, too.
Raye could feel that Gaelfr saw it, with his hand clutching tight to her hip, his claws pricking against her sweaty skin.
The watching orcs had to see it too, with their rising murmurs and exhales, and even a few relieved chuckles.
And when Raye risked a glance sideways, she knew Silfast saw it too, his jaw clenched, his hard eyes glimmering with recognition. With decision.
“You will have your band, voreur,” he said flatly, as he thumped his fist to his heart. “See that you wield it well.”
They’d done it. They’d done it. And Raye could have laughed, or wept, and her smile up toward Kalfr was swift and grateful, quivering with eagerness and hope. They’d done it, he’d honoured her before his goddess and all his kin, and showed her a way toward amends. To peace.
And this time, Kalfr looked back at her, his eyes soft and bright, as a slow, genuine smile pulled at his mouth. He was smiling at her, smiling at her, and it was as though the whole world had burst into heat and wonder and yearning. He was hers. Her mate. Her blessing.
And with a reckless, helpless abandon, Raye surged up to her knees, and kissed him.