Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Isadora
Bloodfire Village’s Midwinter Feast was the most amazing event I’d ever attended. I remembered there being holy day celebrations back home—I mean, back in the village in which I’d grown up. Mistress Smith had never allowed me to participate, but they were somber affairs compared to this revelry.
The bonfire was huge and the food abundant. The ale and whisky flowed and even I could scent the arousal in the air as Mated pairs danced and cuddled and laughed together.
As the sun sank in the west, the piping began, accompanied by drumming on everything from hollow logs to intricately carved bone-and-leather instruments. I watched—delighted and enthusiastic—as the couples spun by exuberantly.
And when the hands closed around my waist from behind, I squealed in surprise…only to relax on a chuckle when I scented Torvolk.
“Would ye dance?” he murmured in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.
Smiling, I lifted my arms as I turned in his hold. “I would do aught you asked for, Torvolk,” I teased with a wink.
To my surprise, he didn’t hide from my innuendo or look away. Instead, his gaze swept me hungrily, as if he were a starving man. He lifted me—wrenching a delighted gasp from my lips—and swung me into the throng of dancers.
We spun, we cavorted, and through it all, he touched me. As the bonfire leapt into the growing darkness, Torvolk held my gaze, his eyes glowing green, an expectant smile on his lips.
Gone was the awkwardness of the last days; something had changed.
Torvolk was buoyant, lively, dancing with me in a breathless sort of way…and I threw myself wholeheartedly into this— whatever this was.
The pipes drew out the last note of their latest dance as he scooped me into his arms, pressing me against his chest and burying his face in my neck.
“Lass,” he murmured. “I need ye.”
I wriggled against his hardness, feeling the bulge pressing into my core.
“Torvolk…”
His lips found the skin between my cloak and my kerchief tie. “I want to taste ye.”
Oh God, aye . I nearly moaned as liquid heat—arousal born of anticipation—pooled between my legs. The way his lips curled told me he smelled my need.
“Ye want me too, lass, aye?”
“Aye,” I gasped, pulling myself closer with the grip of my arms around his neck. “Please?”
I wasn’t sure what had changed, but I wasn’t complaining. Not one little bit.
In one movement Torvolk lifted me, throwing me over his shoulder in the same way he’d done in the tavern yard that first night. It surprised a burst of breathless laughter out of me, but when he rested his palm atop my arse for a moment, squeezing, that laughter turned to a moan of need.
He grabbed a torch and thrust it into the bonfire, the first to take the light from the village flame, then turned to stalk toward his— our cottage.
Behind us, his clan called out lewd suggestions and cheers I couldn’t concentrate on…because I was fully focused on Torvolk.
When we reached the cottage, he kicked the door shut and stalked to the hearth, where he tossed the torch onto the pile of kindling he’d laid that morning. As the fire burst into being, bringing warmth and light into our lives in this new year, he slowly lowered me to my feet.
I tipped my head back to stare breathlessly up at him.
He gently dragged one claw down my cheek, his green gaze not leaving mine. “This is the longest night of the year,” he murmured, “and I want to spend it tasting ye.”
My heartbeat sped up and my tongue darted across my lips in anticipation.
“Would ye allow that, Isadora? Can I taste ye again?”
Isadora .
He called me by my name.
My face split into a grin as I surged up on my toes, reaching for his neck so I could drag his lips to mine. With a growl, he claimed me.
We undressed frantically, ties ripping and his boots tossed across the room. Each moment we weren’t naked felt like a waste…until we were . And just like the last time, seeing his nude body, his mighty cock standing so proud before me, made my mouth water.
I reached for him, closing both my palms around his thickness, marveling at how hard he was. Torvolk hissed, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his head thrown back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Grinning, I stroked him experimentally and loved the little growl I wrenched from his lips, and the shudder which passed through him.
His cock was a darker green than the rest of him, and ridged just like his tongue. I was nearly faint with giddiness, anticipating how that would feel sliding into me. Oh, please, let tonight—whatever had changed between us—be the night I got to feel him!
An orc’s cock is made to make his partner climax as soon as he enters her.
Nan had told me that the day I’d arrived, and the other women had joked about it since then. I wanted that.
Nay…I wanted him .
I wanted Torvolk.
Once, the idea of fooking him had been merely to secure my place here in the village. But now? Now I wanted him because despite his scowls, he was the kindest, gentlest male I’d ever known, and I knew I was falling in love with him.
“I want you, Torvolk.”
“I ken it, lass,” he rasped, his eyes squeezed, his body almost vibrating with the power it took to remain in control. “And I’m trying so fooking hard to keep from throwing ye on that bed and making ye scream my name. I’m trying to let ye explore me.”
I dragged my hand along his cock to the tip, which was beaded with cum already. Gathering some on my fingertip to taste—a spicy flavor I couldn’t name—I hummed with pleasure.
He groaned.
“I am ready now,” I announced primly. His eyes flashed open, and I smirked. “Ready for you to throw me on the bed and make me scream your name.”
I didn’t have to ask twice. Between one heartbeat and the next, he’d lifted me, tossed me. Then I was lying on my back with his head between my thighs and he was tasting me , the way he’d said he wanted.
I sucked in a surprised gasp, my hands going to his hair, but one of his palms rested against my belly while the other hand rose to squeeze my breast. I squirmed, breathless, keening, as the pressure rose within me.
“Torvolk,” I gasped. “Oh God?—”
His only response was to drag his tongue along my cleft again, his tusks scraping at my sensitive inner thighs and making me squirm. I loved the ridges of his tongue, loved the way they felt against the nub of my pleasure, loved the way they felt withdrawing from my core.
Then his lips closed around my clit at the same moment he tugged hard on my nipple, and to my surprise, my climax burst over me. I gasped, arching my back and thrusting my hips upward to grind against his face as the pleasure rolled through me.
And yet…
As Torvolk lifted his head, his long tongue drawing my spend from his lips and jaw into his mouth in that self-satisfied way of his, my climax felt somehow…lacking.
He met my eyes, his still pulsing with that green impatience, and his lips curled.
“No’ good enough,” he growled, and then he was lowering his mouth again.
Torvolk
I’m not certain what was happening to me; my Kteer was pounding against my heart and my blood was screaming. I needed to claim Isadora…but at the same time I wanted to drag this out, to make her pleasure last as long as possible.
As I licked her again, tasting her climax, I pulled my hands from her tits and lifted her ass. The new position allowed me to thrust my tongue inside her and made her whimper.
Gods below, I could still feel her muscles quivering, and I told myself to go slow…but I couldn’t.
“Palton’s Spear, Isadora,” I murmured, licking her. “Ye are magnificent. Everything I want.”
Her fingers tightened in my hair, but I was beyond thinking. I pressed one finger inside her, knowing ‘twas too soon to expect her to come again. I licked her again, then added a second finger.
“How does that feel, dkaar ?” I murmured. “To stretch like that?”
She might not be ready to come again yet, but I could taste her arousal building—or mayhap it had never left. Her hips bucked forward and she moaned.
“Good?” I prompted, kissing the little pearl hidden in her curls. “More?”
“More,” she whispered, and my lips curled against her thighs.
“That’s my good lass,” I murmured, slowly pushing another finger in. “Ye feel how ye stretch so perfectly? Yer cunny was meant for me.”
“You,” she gasped, arching into my hold, and I couldn’t take it any longer. That word seemed—to me, anyhow—to be all the blessing I needed.
I withdrew, kissing my way up her body, until I could roll onto my back, taking her with me. She sprawled across my chest and, holding her gaze, I lifted my hand to my mouth to suck my fingers.
Her lovely eyes widened, her cheeks pinking, her skin bare against mine. Withdrawing my fingers, I pressed them against her lips.
“Fooking perfection, Isadora.”
Tentatively, her lips opened, and I slid my fingers inside, coating her tongue with her spend. The way her nose wrinkled told me ‘twas a new experience, and her little grimace made me want to laugh.
So I did.
Isadora’s eyes widened at the sound, and I pulled my fingers from her mouth.
“Ye didnae like the way ye taste?”
Her lids lowered, although he gaze remained on me, as a naughty little smirk crossed her lips.
“I’d rather taste ye .”
“Gods below, Isadora,” I groaned, reaching for her leg to pull her into a straddling position. “Ye’re magnificent.”
She planted her palms on my chest. “You have been calling me by name.”
“I have to,” I admitted. “I cannae fight the truth any longer.”
“What truth?” she whispered.
Ye are my Mate .
“That ye are mine.”
“Aye,” she sighed happily, scooting backward until her wet cunny cradled my throbbing cock. “And you are mine. And we cannot be finished yet.”
My hands settled on her hips. “We’re no’ done,” I growled in agreement. “Ye’re going to come eight or nine more times afore the new year starts.” Her eyes widened, but I didn’t give her time to argue. “Now, show me how stretched ye are, and take my cock like a good lass.”
Isadora was the one to lean forward, to hold my gaze as she allowed me to position my cock beneath her. She sat back, sinking down around my shaft, each ridge sliding neatly into her core, the sensation sending white-hot sparks to my brain.
And then she was down and her second climax erupted. She gasped and stiffened, digging her fingers into my chest as her cunny tightened around me.
I wanted to give her time to adjust, but by Malla the Beginner, I lost all control.
My Kteer ruled me insatiably. I thrust upward into her wet warmth, burrowing deep before withdrawing and doing it again, each plunge a delicious, mind-numbing torture.
I needed her. I needed to pleasure her. I needed her the way I needed my next breath, the way I needed water and food and life . Isadora was life.
“Fooking magnificent,” I growled again, my hands sliding up her sides. “Ye take my cock like such a perfect Mate. Such a good lass, coming around my cock like that.”
Her breaths were coming quickly now, her eyes wide enough I could see the pupils in the blazing firelight. I could still feel her squeezing me as I pulled her forward, causing those magnificent tits to tip toward my mouth.
Well, there was only one thing to do. I stretched up and caught the nipple between my lips, tugging with my teeth, and she mewled in pleasure, wriggling her hips.
And then she was the one who took over the movement, rocking atop me at the same steady, desperate pace. I flicked her nipple with my tongue, and her eyes closed on a moan.
I grinned, and the movement—or mayhap her rocking—pulled her tit from my mouth.
“That’s a good lass.” I slid my hands down her stomach, my thumbs circling her navel, to grip the apex of her thighs. “That’s my Mate. You’re taking my cock like such a good little lass, are ye no’? Ye’re mine.”
“Yours,” she gasped, arching against me. “Oh God, Torvolk, I am yours .”
She’d been mine since the moment I laid eyes on her—half-naked and scared in that tavern—and my Kteer howled at the certainty of it.
I was so close to spilling, so close to claiming her. But not yet.
“ Mine ,” I growled, tipping my hands closer to her cunny. I used one thumb to push aside her curls. “Isadora.”
With that, I rubbed her clit the way I knew she liked and felt her freeze atop me.
No’ good enough.
“Isadora,” I said again. “ Mine .”
“Yours,” came her ragged whisper.
I rubbed my thumb in a circle, felt her thighs clenching me as her climax approached. I flexed my arse, pushing my cock up into her slowly, each ridge a new explosion of sensations.
“Isadora,” I whispered again, and I pinched the pearl of her pleasure.
“ Torvolk !” she screamed as she came, and I smiled, remembering my vow to make her scream my name.
But my smugness didn’t last long, because her climax triggered my own.
With a wordless roar, I released my thin control on my Kteer and spilled my seed against her womb.
Mine mine claim Mate mine forever.
The words—the sensation, the pleasure—throbbed through me, painting stars behind my eyelids, until I thought my entire world was an endless cycle of Isadora, Isadora, Isadora.
Then she collapsed bonelessly against me and I found I could breathe again—deep, gulping, desperate breaths as I wrestled with myself. Her own breathing evened out, and I knew she’d fallen asleep.
Well of course she had; I’d worn her out.
“Good lass,” I murmured, running my hand up and down her back. “My perfect Mate.”
I needed to stand, to tend the fire. I needed to set water to warming so I could clean her. I needed to sleep.
But my Kteer wasn’t satisfied.
I was never going to be satisfied. The full moon was in a few days and I knew my duty would take me away from her…but I’d leave my heart here in Bloodfire Village. But here and now, I had my Mate in my arms, and my Kteer wasn’t satisfied.
I rolled over gently and lowered my lips to her skin.