Chapter 10
Clover
The bathroom has a tub big enough for me to swim in and a shower much bigger than the one in my suite at The Grand Hotel.
The shower seems quicker, and I really enjoyed the one in my suite, so I fiddle with the controls until I figure out how to get the water warm.
It’s a little more complicated than the last one I used, because I have to decipher some orcish symbols.
Luckily, hot and cold seem to be represented by red and blue in both languages.
I’m still getting used to how much water gets wasted, and how amazing it is to have warm water that never gets cold.
There are two showerheads. One sprays me from the front and the other sprays me from the back.
The soap is different. There’s no scent, really, unless clean is a smell.
There’s also no shampoo, so I have to use the soap to wash my hair as well.
Surprisingly, it feels even better than it did after the first time I used shampoo.
Once my shower is done, I step out into the luxurious bathroom, the stone floor cool beneath my feet.
There’s a towel to dry off with, and several robes hanging in a closet big enough for me to walk into.
They all appear to be orc-sized, and I look like a little girl wearing my father’s coat once I put it on.
But at least it’s warm and comfortable. If I have to sleep at the foot of his bed, this may be my blanket, if one isn’t provided.
I leave the collar on the counter in the bathroom.
I can’t bring myself to put that back on willingly.
Hopefully, he won’t make me wear it all the time, even if he does consider me little more than a pet.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to, but I go back and retrieve what’s left of my dress from the stairs that lead to the dungeon.
I have no idea what to do with my ruined dress, shoes, or dirty panties.
I wrap them in a bundle, so I can bring them with me.
“I guess I should be quiet, in case he’s already sleeping,” I say under my breath as I walk toward his bedroom clutching my ragged bundle.
There’s a large metal door at the end of the hallway, light flickering beneath it. If he doesn’t sleep with the lights on, then he’s still up. That makes me a little nervous, but my place is at the foot of his bed, so I don’t stop until I get to his door, which slides open like I’m being welcomed.
King Lix’tuk is sitting at the foot of his bed, facing the door. He’s not wearing his armor anymore—I assumed he didn’t sleep in it—but the only thing covering his enormous green body is a black fur loincloth and scars.
So many scars. They run along his powerful, muscular frame like a map of every battle he’s ever fought.
Some are thin and faded, barely visible against the green skin.
Others are thick and raised, greyish-green ridges that look like they should have killed him.
There’s one across his left shoulder that disappears behind his back, and another that cuts diagonally across his abdomen, stopping just above the loincloth.
Without his armor, he looks even bigger.
His shoulders are broad enough to make the enormous bed behind him look smaller.
His arms are thicker than my thighs. His chest is a wall of muscle that rises and falls with each breath.
His tusks seem more prominent now, curving up from his lower jaw.
His dark eyes are no longer shadowed by his crown, and they are locked on me.
The sight of him is terrifying, but there’s something else, too.
Something I don’t fully understand or want to acknowledge.
The way the light catches the scars on his skin.
The sheer size and power of him, no longer hidden beneath metal and leather.
The way he just sits there, utterly still, utterly confident, like a predator watching prey that’s willingly walked into his den.
My stomach flutters, and it’s not entirely from fear.
I clutch the bundle I’m holding tighter, suddenly aware that I’m wearing nothing but an oversized robe that is dragging on the floor and slipping off one shoulder.
That he’s barely clothed. That we’re alone in his bedchamber, the door now sliding shut behind me.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten about your Reparations Penalty, little human girl,” he growls, eyes narrowing. “Because I haven’t.”
“No,” I admit, looking down at the floor, my cheeks heating up as I realize I’m about to go over his knee. “I… I haven’t forgotten, Your Maj—King Lix’tuk.”
His gaze drops to the bundle in my arms. “What is that?”
“My clothes and my shoes,” I answer, clutching them tighter, feeling a strange tingle between my thighs.
“Your dress is ruined,” he growls. “You should have left it where it fell off you. It belongs in the trash now.”
“I know,” I admit.
“Then why are you carrying it?” he asks, glaring at me. “Why did you go back to get it in the first place?”
I glance down at the bundle, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t want to just leave a mess…”
“Put it on the floor over there,” he growls, gesturing to a pile of orc-sized clothes that suggests armor isn’t the only thing he wears. “You can leave the robe there, too. You won’t need it for your Reparations Penalty.”
I freeze when I get to the pile of clothes. I’ll be naked when I go over his knee. I hadn’t really considered that. I’ll definitely feel his big, heavy hand a lot more without this robe to protect me, but I’m not sure it would offer much protection from him.
“Where’s your collar?” he asks, looking over everything I’m holding.
“I left it in the bathroom,” I admit.
“Go get it. You will wear that until I tell you otherwise,” he orders impatiently.
Well, clearly I’m going to have to get used to the this.
“Yes, King Lix’tuk,” I whisper.
I put my clothes on the pile, untangling my shoes from the fabric and placing them next to several pairs of his boots. They look comically small, compared to what he wears.
I quickly return to the bathroom, pick up the worn leather collar, and use the mirror to secure it around my neck. The iron ring on the front feels heavier now. I was too scared to notice the weight earlier.
When I return to King Lix’tuk’s bedchamber, I’m wearing the robe and my collar.
My fingers move to the loose knot that is barely keeping the robe from falling off.
I’m too scared to look at him. Is he staring?
Does he like what he sees? Does the sight of me sicken him? I’m not sure which would be worse.
I close my eyes, pull on the knot, and let the robe fall away from my shoulders. I hear something that almost answers the questions spinning through my head. A change in his breathing. A low growl that doesn’t exactly sound menacing. I hear another one of those when my robe hits the floor.
My face is beet red while he examines me fully.
My arms tremble because I want to cover my breasts, but I force myself to keep them at my sides.
I finally dare to open my eyes. His dark stare roams across my exposed skin, like he’s memorizing every inch.
That makes my face even redder, if that’s possible.
I’ve never really been one of the girls men look at. I’m too skinny because there’s never enough to eat. I’m chronically dehydrated. I don’t have the natural beauty men seem to like. But King Lix’tuk seems to see past all of it, like he’s staring into my soul.
Or maybe he’s still trying to figure out what to do with his new pet.
“Come here, little human girl,” he says, patting his enormous, scarred thigh. “I’m showing you more mercy than I’ve ever shown a human. Don’t keep me waiting so long I regret it.”
Lady Frax’mo said I should face my Reparations Penalty with dignity. I think I can manage a dignified trip over his knee. It’s better than being whipped. Definitely better than being left to rot, hanging from the whipping cross in the cold dungeon with a collar around my neck like a noose.
I walk close enough to feel the heat radiating from his enormous body.
As close as I can be without actually touching him.
I’m not sure if I should climb into his lap or wait for him to put me there.
My hesitation seems to annoy him. He grabs my arm and pulls me the rest of the way, causing me to tumble awkwardly across his muscular thighs, legs splayed lewdly enough for me to panic as I press my thighs together.
“This is for all the atrocities your kind committed during The Great War,” he growls, placing his warm hand on my bare ass.
“I understand,” I gasp.
His hand feels gigantic, his wide palm and thick fingers covering most of my ass.
He squeezes and rubs the globes of my bottom, and while I don’t think it’s meant to cause a reaction, I feel another twinge between my legs.
Moisture that I’ve felt a few times when I was alone in the barn loft, doing things girls never talked about in front of their parents.
“Never realized how soft humans are,” he murmurs, still rubbing and squeezing my ass. “No wonder your kind is so weak.”
I don’t get a chance to reply. His hand rises and lands with a stinging slap that makes me squeal. I bite my tongue because it doesn’t sound very dignified, but after a few more firm smacks, I’m not worried about my dignity anymore. It hurts more than I anticipated, and every swat makes it worse.
“Your kind has always been a blight on this world,” he snarls punctuating his words with spanks.
“You ruin everything you touch. The only reason we didn’t exterminate every.
Single. One of you is because you ruined this world for us, too,” he growls angrily, his hand coming down with enough speed and force for it to feel like he’s trying to punish the entire human race.
“Forced us to fucking. Need. You.” Those last three words were each accompanied by the strongest impacts yet.