Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Isadora
I wasn’t certain what had changed, but I wasn’t complaining.
Torvolk was…insatiable.
The morning after the Midwinter Feast, he woke me with his tongue. This sounds impressive, and aye, ‘twas quite pleasurable…but he’d done the same three or four times throughout the night—truthfully, I’d lost count. ‘Twas a bit of a blur.
At this point, he must have just been eating his own spend.
And I don’t know why that thought was so arousing—him eating his cum from my cunny—but ‘twas, and I moaned in pleasure, wriggling my hips against the mattress as he tossed my leg over his shoulder and really just got in there.
I think I was in a bit of shock, in truth.
As before, it took Torvolk little time at all to chase my pleasure. I gasped, my back arching instinctively as his tongue thrust inside me, searching for that rough spot behind my clitoris that always drove me mad.
Aye, I was awake now .
His fingers replaced his tongue, and vaguely I recognized that I felt no stretching now, thanks to his efforts of last night. But then his tongue circled the bud of my pleasure, and I confess all other considerations were tossed right into the fire.
I exploded as he sucked on my clit, and judging from the chuckling sort of hum he made, that was exactly what he wanted.
“Good morning, Isadora,” he murmured from between my legs, dropping a kiss to my curls before grinning up at me.
Grinning? Isadora ? I didn’t think I would ever get used to him calling me by my true name, rather than mere lass. Whatever happened yesterday changed Torvolk.
And I was more than fine with the changes.
“Good morning,” I managed, my voice raspy from sleep. And possibly all the screaming-in-pleasure things from last night.
“What can I get ye?” he rolled upright in bed, his cock jutting proudly. “Food? Drink?”
“Tea would be nice.” I think I was dehydrated. Seeing how much of my liquid was dripping from Torvolk’s chin, I shouldn’t be surprised. “Thank you.”
Somewhere around the third time he’d taken me hard, I’d ceased being embarrassed around this man.
“Ye need sustenance.” He was rummaging—still nude—through the crocks and storage bins. “Bread? Cheese?”
I knew from my conversations with the women that the feasting could continue today, but mainly just to eat up the leftovers from yesterday’s celebration. My stomach rumbled at the thought, because two-day old bread was less appealing.
Still, he was right; I needed to eat something . So I nodded as I ducked behind the screen to take care of my morning ablutions. I was slightly sore, but in a good way.
As I emerged, Torvolk’s hand closed around my wrist, and he tugged me against him.
“Wh—” I began, but I had no time to say more before his lips covered mine, and I turned my question into a pleased hum.
In short order, he’d become quite adept at kissing, had he not?
Our tongues played, our lips caressed. I loved the way his tusks—which should have been in the way, but somehow seemed to perfectly frame my lips—scraped against my cheeks, smooth and chilled.
I tasted myself, and that shouldn’t be erotic, but I couldn’t help but think of those illustrations Myra had showed me, and I moaned, pressing my naked body against his.
His hands were on me—everywhere. I loved the way he caressed my breasts, as if they were something holy, to be revered. He hefted them as his lips ran along my jaw, his thumb and forefingers finding my nipples unerringly.
I arched into his hold, hoping he’d put his mouth on them…and he obliged.
One moment I was blissfully focused on the feel of his tongue against my nipple, the next I felt as if I was flying through the air. I landed face-down on the mattress, and his hands wrapped around my ankles, pulling me backward toward the edge of the bed. I pushed myself up on my hands and knees, and tried to twist around to see him, but his palm landed lightly on my arse.
“Just like that,” he gasped. “Stay like that.”
I froze, feeling his heat behind me, and then his mouth was on me. He was kneeling on the floor behind the bed, his mouth even with my cunny, and he was making use of that.
This position was different from anything I’d imagined before; his tongue could stroke my cleft all the way from my arsehole to my curls. He buried his face against me, his tongue reaching forward to curl around my clitoris, as I ground my arse against him, the sudden desperation taking my breath away.
By all that was holy, this was remarkable!
“Torvolk!” I gasped. “Please.”
I wanted to climax, but it didn’t feel possible. Not like this.
Abruptly he withdrew, and I felt him straighten, his hands going to my hips.
“Ye want me inside ye? Ye want to take my thick cock?”
“Please, Torvolk,” I whimpered, thrusting my arse back to gyrate against his hardness. “Give me your cock.”
I felt him take himself in hand, felt him pull aside my arse cheek…I sucked in a breath in anticipation…
When he speared me, I screamed wordlessly, my climax bursting over me sudden and violent.
He fooked me from behind, his grunts mingling with my gasps as my core squeezed at him. I would say that my climax eventually faded, but the pleasure didn’t; each time his ridges slid across the sensitive skin of my cunny, I felt as if my ecstasy continued.
“Mine,” he grunted, plunging into me. “Mine. Mine .”
“Yours,” I gasped. “Always.” I’d been his since the moment he paid gold for me. “My master.”
We both knew I only called him that teasingly, so I wasn’t exactly surprised when he denied it. What I didn’t expect…
“Nay,” he growled, curling around me and reaching for my cunny from the front. “Mate. My Mate. Mine .”
Mate ?
His thumb and forefinger found my clitoris then, and when he pinched, the world went white. I came again as he spilled his seed against my womb while roaring my name, and my legs wobbled, spent.
We never did eat the bread and cheese.
But throughout the day, people of the Bloodfire Clan made deliveries, often with smirks and winks and teasing grins. Cold venison, warm bread, a jug of ale delivered by Mkaalad with a warning to keep hydrated. I wasn’t sure why or how they knew we needed it…but we did.
Torvolk allowed me to nap, sleeping curled around him, but I don’t think he did. He couldn’t , what with the near-constant efforts to pleasure me. I lost track of how many times he coaxed an orgasm from me, before hand-feeding me the choicest cuts of meat and holding me as I fell asleep again.
But I know he came over and over again. In me, on me. I learned to love the taste of his seed: a spicy, pale green spend that he seemed to have in copious amounts. I teased him about running out, but he only growled and grabbed me again.
He seemed to like taking me from behind the best, because my heavy breasts would hang free if I was on my hands and knees. He would fook me from behind while holding onto them, fondling and caressing until I was near out of my mind.
And then, after I collapsed, spent…he’d clean me with his tongue and with a warm towel, and I’d sleep and eat and he’d start again.
He called me Mine . And Love . And Isadora . And Mate.
And I don’t think I’d ever felt so beloved and cherished.
‘Twas the third day after the Midwinter celebration when I finally woke on my own, sore and sticky and fully sated. I was a little surprised not to be woken with an orgasm, and I peeked open one eye to see Torvolk sprawled beside me on the mattress, snoring.
The poor male likely needed his rest.
I curled up at his side, reveling in his heat, and fell back asleep.
I don’t know how many hours passed before I woke again, this time to him calling my name gently.
“Are ye hungry?”
“Mmmm.” I stretched, then winced. “Ravenous.”
To my surprise, he didn’t take that as an invitation, and instead bent down to scoop me up.
“I’m sorry I ran ye so ragged these last days, love. I should have been focused on satisfying yer needs.”
Since I was sitting in his lap now and he was fully dressed, I discovered I did have a bit of blush left in me.
“I did not mind so much,” I said to his chest. “I think you did a lovely job satisfying my needs.”
His thumb and forefinger tipped my chin up, and he dropped a kiss to my nose. “I’m glad, but ye have other needs I’ve been ignoring.” With brisk movements, he set me on my feet. “Get dressed, I’m taking ye to the hot springs.”
In bemusement, I watched him bustle around the house, and realized what was different about him: Torvolk’s eyes no longer glowed green. The spark of green was still there, deep in their dark depths, but they were nowhere near as desperate as they’d been at Midwinter.
In a thoughtful frame of mind, I washed myself as best I could, then bundled into a gown and cloak.
Torvolk was solicitous but distracted as he wrapped food and cups in a towel, then took my hand. As he pulled me through the village at a rate fast enough I had to jog to keep up, my new friends called out teasing remarks that left no doubt they knew what we’d been doing these last few days.
Well of course they do. Ye were loud enough to wake the dead, and someone had to deliver all that food to keep ye alive, aye ?
Flustered now, I called out, “You are so anxious to get to these hot springs?” as I trotted beside him.
“Aye,” he grunted. “I have…things to discuss.”
“You know, if you wanted to get me naked again, we could have stayed home, instead of running across the Highlands.”
That stopped him.
He eyed me, as if suddenly realizing how hard I was breathing. “’Tis my duty to take care of ye,” he muttered.
How had our lives changed since that night a month ago when he’d bought me, and I’d assumed ‘twould become my role to take care of him !
“You do,” I assured him gently, squeezing his hand.
“Nay, ye dinnae understand— fook .” He shook his head. “Come, we’re almost there, and I ken ye need to relax.”
This time he took smaller steps, which I appreciated, but I was beginning to get nervous.
“Why do I need to relax?”
A hint of green from under his lashes. “Because I’ve kept ye awake for three days, satisfying my lust. Ye’re covered in my scent and ye must be sore.”
Satisfying his lust? I’d enjoyed it too.
“You want me to wash away your scent?” I asked mildly.
“Och, nay. I love the smell of me on ye, and kenning every other male can smell it as well.” His gaze was ahead, his jaw tight. “Ye’re mine , Isadora, and everyone will ken it. But…”
This was sounding…serious. There was more here than I understood.
“But?”
Now his lips twitched as he shot me another glance. “But my seed is dripping from ye, and I ken ye want to feel clean again.”
I had to chuckle at that, because he was right.
When we reached the spring, I gasped in delight. ‘Twas a creek which babbled around large boulders, cutting away the peat on either side. The hot spring emerged alongside, and someone—mayhap long ago—had piled rocks in a vague circle to allow the heated water to mix with the cold stream water. There was a little structure—a roof with two sides—built over it for privacy.
“Ye can choose how close to the heat ye want to be,” Torvolk pointed out, already bent over the ties of my bodice. Concerned about me, as he’d been since that first night.
As he straightened, he pulled my gown off, leaving me in a chemise. “I should apologize,” he said solemnly.
When I was free, I shook my head. “For what?”
“For the way I’ve acted these last days.” His hand rose to cup my cheek. “Isadora, when the Mating Heat took me, I could think of naught beside claiming ye, again and again.”
My cheeks heated. “I enjoyed it.”
“Thank fook,” he muttered, then dropped a kiss on my forehead. “But what I mean is…I’m an orc.”
I placed my hands on his chest. “I noticed,” I said with a gentle smile.
“And…an orc male is sometimes ruled by his Kteer . These last days, when I realized who ye were…”
“Who am I?” I breathed.
His gaze held mine and his lips twitched. “Ye mean I havenae told ye enough? Ye’re my Mate, Isadora. And I am yers.”
My heart was pounding, part in excitement, part in joy, and my fingers curled around his plaid, as if I could hold his heart.
“There is a knowing,” I whispered.
His free hand closed over mine where ‘twas pressed against his chest. “Aye, there is. I have fought it for so long, but once I allowed myself to admit the truth, I had to claim ye. I should have been gentler.”
He’d been plenty gentle, many times. I was blushing, I knew. “I did not mind it one bit, Master.”
“Mate,” he corrected, and lowered a gentle, slow kiss to my lips.
Mate .
Mate.
If I was his Mate, then he was mine. And if we were Mates, then…Then my place was at his side, among the Bloodfire Clan.
I had a future with him, and I knew Torvolk would make it the best possible future.
Because I loved him. And although he hadn’t said the words—I don’t know if orcs even felt that way about their Mates—the words he had said were perfectly wonderful. Mine. Mate.
I was floating on a cloud of joy when he pulled away.
Torvolk finished undressing me quickly and efficiently, then stripped himself. I squealed when I stepped into the water, then sighed blissfully. He laid out the blanket with the food beside where I rested against a boulder, and we took turns feeding one another, our conversation nonchalant, as if naught of consequence had passed between us. Then he pulled out one of my bars of soap and washed me thoroughly as the warm water flowed around us.
Granted, he took longer to soap my breasts than strictly necessary.
I ended up seated in his lap, and I could feel his erection pressing against my arse. But he didn’t seem bothered by it; just wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head and exhaled in satisfaction.
I suppose he really was sated, and the Mating Heat over.
I remembered what the other women had whispered and giggled about as we’d worked together over the last month, and I smiled against Torvolk’s shoulder, because now I knew the truth. Mating was so much more than mere sex, and I don’t think I’d ever get used to the way he was so devoted to my pleasure.
You have the rest of your life to experience that.
The thought took away my breath and I shifted in his lap.
Mating was…forever.
“I can feel ye thinking, love,” he rumbled.
I pulled away slightly, causing the water to ripple around us. “I was considering what it meant to be Mated.”
To my surprise, Torvolk stiffened and looked away. “Aye.”
“If we are Mated, then…”
“Then the cottage is yers.” He wouldn’t meet my gaze, but his hand stroked up and down my spine in a comforting way. “Ye’ll have the support of the clan, and I will have a reason to come home.”
Come home ?
As in…he wouldn’t be there with me? I pushed off his lap, the water buoying me. “What are you saying, Torvolk? You will not…”
“I am a Ranger,” he muttered stiffly. “The Bloodfire Ranger.”
I rose, planting my feet on the sandy floor of the pool, and moved between his legs. “You might be the Ranger, but you will be my Mate,” I announced, taking his face between my hands. “And I need you.”
His eyes, when they finally met mine, were anguished. “How, Isadora?” he whispered, raggedly. “I dinnae ken how to be aught besides a Ranger.”
My chest squeezed, a sense of rightness filling me, and I smiled softly. Had it only been a month ago that I’d been terrified of this male? This gentle, gruff, caring male who treated me so perfectly?
“You could be a Mate,” I told him softly, certainly. “Mayhap a father.”
He shuddered, his eyes closing. “I would like that.”
“The clan loves you, and I hope these last days have shown you how important you are to them—not because you are their Ranger, but because you are theirs .”
Slowly, Torvolk opened his eyes, uncertainty shining in their depths. “Ye really think that?”
I kissed him, then straightened. “I know that. And if you decide you need to stay a Ranger, then you can just take me Ranging with you.”
His lips twitched upward on one side. “Ye think that’s a good idea?”
“I can…” Without loosing my hold on him, I cast about for inspiration. “Tiptoe through the snow or lurk in taverns with the best of them.”
“Only, I heard ye scream when ye found that nest of mice the other day.”
“—As long as there are no mice,” I continued, as if that’s what I’d intended to say all along.
Huffing out a laugh, Torvolk pulled me toward him. “Ye are my Mate,” he whispered, burying his face against my neck. “I need to be with ye.”
Mate . My fingers curled through his hair. “And I want to be with ye.”
“Nay, ye dinnae understand.” He straightened. “’Tis a need . The thought of being without ye…” He shuddered.
“There is a knowing,” I whispered, kissing his brow. I love you , but I didn’t say the words, because I couldn’t understand his reticence. “What is wrong?”
“The full moon is tomorrow night. I need to return to the human world to find Kragorn.” When I sucked in a breath, his hold on me tightened. “A month, Isadora. I swear, I’ll be gone no more than a month. At the next full moon, I’ll be waiting at the stones for the veil to open so I can return to ye. I swear it.”
But my blood pounded in my ears.
His vow was pretty, but all I could hear was that he was leaving me.
I’d always known ‘twould happen, because he was the Bloodfire Ranger. But now we were Mated ! To learn that bit of bliss, then to have him rip it away so quickly.
I’d found my Mate, my forever…
And he was leaving.