Chapter Twenty Almost
I thought I would be more nervous my first time. Not that this is “it.” This won’t be the whole enchilada, or home base, or whatever stupid euphemisms people use. I push them all from my mind as Douglas and I fall easily to his bed, still kissing.
“This all right?” he whispers, stroking my hair back from my face. He treats me like I’m glass, looks at me with a combination of lust and reverence that outshines every fantasy that I’ve ever had.
I think that’s how a man looks at you when he loves you.
At least I hope so, even as I mentally try to pump the brakes, telling myself it’s too soon to truly know our feelings.
But I know I like them.
“This is far more than all right,” I whisper back, loving that I can stroke his hair, too, tangling dark tendrils around my fingers.
We lay face-to-face on our sides, kissing and cuddling, slowly letting warmth and relaxation soothe us as lust mounts and pushes us forward, two paradoxical emotions strangely in harmony.
Just feels right.
Douglas rocks his hips forward with a little groan, and I lift one leg, letting my skirt ride up to my waist. The lacey pastel thong I picked out for tonight is soaking and doesn’t conceal much of anything, either.
Douglas hesitates, then undoes the belt at his waist. “Don’t want this to scratch you,” he breathes.
I nod, reclaiming his mouth, nuzzling in deep as he fumbles with fabric. My skirt tucks up from the friction of our bodies moving against one another and his kilt follows suit. Traditionally, Orcs don’t wear anything under their kilts, and I’m dying to look and see if Douglas is a traditionalist.
But it’s easier not to stop kissing him, to let my hands wander over his broad chest and back and get lost in the sensation of his hand cupping me, kneading along my sides and spine, up to my breast, and down to my bottom.
When his hand cups one cheek, I thrust my hips forward, bringing my slippery inner thigh over his outer one. His bare outer one.
“God,” I barely make the sound audible, finding his cock with my panty-covered center.
Douglas is much louder in his surprise, “Oh, God!” A single hoarse cry before he buries his face in my neck, nipping and sucking as his hips stroke forward and back.
He’s huge. His shaft completely presses against my outer lips. I whimper, already imagining the good burn of him stretching me, letting him fill the deep, aching emptiness high inside my pussy.
“You’re divine. So soft,” he moans.
“So hard.” My hand eases down and takes a tour of his cock as his tusks dig into my shoulder. He’s panting against me as I start to stroke him, feeling his girth. He fills my palm, and my fingers can’t quite close around him. Thick strands of arousal begin wetting his skin, making it easy for my hand to glide up and down him.
“No,” a single soft command freezes me before I even find my hesitant rhythm.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t be sorry. I just need you to stop until I see to you.”
“What? See to me?”
“I don’t want to experience the pleasure you give me until I thank you properly.”
“But this is mutual. There’s no thanking needed,” I protest.
“Georgia, please...” He kisses my throat again, his broad fingers stroking with a feathery touch over my crotch, making me gasp in pleasure as his fingertips find my clit. “Oh, God, love. So wet for me. Can I move this little bit of lace?”
“Okay.” I’m tongue-tied, riding the current of electricity that comes when he fumbles with my most intimate parts.
He doesn’t fumble for long, cradling me with one arm while his other hand dips between my legs, stroking down my mound, massaging, teasing, never penetrating.
I could scream while he’s kissing me so tenderly. I’m trying to be patient, but my body has other ideas.
Instead, I bite his lip with a sudden burst of erotic energy, bucking my pussy forward into his hand.
“I was being gentle,” Douglas protests, a hint of pouting in his voice.
“Be gentle right about here .” I nudge his fingers to the apex of my lips, where my stiff clit immediately finds contact with his skin, the thicker, smoother, almost leathery touch of an Orc.
“Oh, God. Like that.” This is the sensation I could never give myself, that my body always craved.
SHE’S SO SOFT. WETTER than water, with that divine scent of peaches and passion that brings up ancient lusts and makes me forget that I’m a civilized being, a fucking accountant, for God’s sake.
No, with Georgia, I would be the savage, growling beast that humans used to fear.
She’s mine. No one else can look at her, touch her, or even breathe the air around her lest they catch a whiff of this glorious nectar that should only belong to me.
I dimly recall she has witchery in her bloodlines as my kilt and shirt fly off the bed, as I paw the buttons on her dress open with her help. In seconds, it’s spread open, revealing my pretty peach and pink meal. It’s witchcraft. I’m under her spell, utterly enslaved, and hellbent on worshiping her the way I think she deserves.
Fingers aren’t enough. Cock is too much—for tonight .
“Douglas, you don’t have—”
“Rr.”
I know. Not very articulate. It’s a short growl as I part her thighs and slide my head between them, kissing a circle over the wet outer lips before I allow myself to lick.
She trembles under my tongue and hands, shouts out little gasps when my tusks meet her most delicate pieces.
Calm. Calm.
“Please?” That’s my last gasp of sanity, a whisper begging for permission when I’ve already started taking what I crave.
“ Yes , please!” Her cry sounds just as fevered as mine, which makes my shoulders relax and my mind return to its hazy, primal state.
Taste Georgia.
Eat Georgia.
Make her come on my mouth, make her juice run like water, find all of her secrets and adore them—so she’ll know she’s mine. So she’ll wait for me, so she’ll know her waiting is almost over.
Tangled thoughts drive to one goal—her pleasure.
My mouth easily fits over her plump lips and my tongue soon invades the secret slit hiding between them, probing inside as she squirms.
She’s just as juicy as the peach scent she gives off led me to expect, and just like that soft fruit, her body yields under my mouth when I apply the slightest pressure.
NO ONE’S EVER TOUCHED me where Douglas is diving in, his mouth locked over my sex, tongue deep inside. It’s too much and not enough. I melt down, a shaking, writhing thing pinned under his strong, protective arms while he laps at me one second, then skillfully sucks my clit the next.
I don’t know why I assumed a man’s attentions would be quick, but Douglas shows no signs of moving on.
“I want to make you come, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Let go. Let go, and tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”
“You’re doing it great, I just... It’s new. And it’s so close.”
He bends his head again, back to my clit, his fingers stroking and rubbing my folds without entering.
“Inside. Fingers, while sucking.” I don’t know if that will work, but I want to feel him in me.
He obeys, one finger sliding in. He’s nearly the same size as the slender toy I keep for emergencies, and my body accepts him easily. Like the expert he seems to be, his finger curves up to find my most sensitive spot and rocks back and forth in a steady rhythm that matches the constant attention he gives my clit.
“Yesss. Like that. Make me come.” I have left any trepidation or hesitation behind. My eyes close, and my hands go up to my chest, squeezing my breasts through my lacey bra. I squeeze the nipples in time with his sucking and thrusts.
All the pulses are in unison. The world is reduced to throbbing and the sounds of his hungry mouth and my breathless moans.
“I want you in me. I want you,” I whisper, squeezing down hard on his finger.
A second finger joins, and my pussy complains for a split second. “Mm. You were meant for my cock. For my knot, Georgia. I can feel how hungry this sweet puss is, how much more it’ll take to fill you until you're properly satisfied.”
I whimper. I want him to keep sucking, but the sound of his voice saying such deliciously explicit things is just as good.
I’m spoiled.
“Fill me,” I beg, shameless.
“I will. I will very soon—if you’ll have me.”
“Mm!” Orgasm is pressing against me, making it harder to think of the right response. I love you. That’s what I want to say. I love this, I love him, I love us—together.
“You don’t hate me for making you wait a little?” Douglas asks, a genuine note of worry in his voice.
“I could never hate you. I love you too much.”
Well. Damn.
There’s a pause.
Double, triple damn times a million. “I—”
“Shh. Shh, my love, I know what you mean.”
I’m afraid he doesn’t. “I didn’t say it just because you’re incredible at this,” I hiss, fighting to ignore the orgasm that’s building as his fingers move faster. He’s going to pound me to orgasm, but there’s no pain, just hard, solid fucking, his fingers inside of me, his mouth on me.
“And when I say it back, it won’t be just because you’re a goddess that I’m utterly smitten with, that I want to be mine in every way.”
The smoky chuckle after his words relaxes me. If he’s not freaking, I shouldn’t freak.
Safe. I’m safe with him, and he gives me what I need.
“So soon, my love. You’ll be wrapped around me, my knot inside of you. Full to the brim, riding me, under me...”
“Fuck, Douglas, yes !”
The tiny little part of my brain that’s not visiting another solar system, rocked on a supernova orgasm like I’ve never experienced, remembers something.
When it’s right, it’s right.
You’ll know when you meet the one.
Real love doesn’t make you sad. Real love feels easy, even if there are hard things to overcome.
He holds me, sliding up beside me with his hand still between my legs. He kisses my cheeks with soft whispers and slowly eases his fingers from me, voice low and tumbling over reassurances, praises, promises...
“They said it would feel like this. My mom. My friends. Gloria. All the people who found ‘the one.’ That it feels right, even if it’s fast. Like, you just know.” I stroke his hair, blinking in a haze.
“Aye. They did say that. I didn’t believe them—until now.”
It surprises Douglas when I kiss him, my tongue delving into his mouth and savoring the salty sweet tinge of pussy on his lips. There’s fire in his eyes when I pull back.
“You’re a very adventurous woman for someone who seems so quietly controlled.” His smile is appraising.
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
NICOLA AND I DID THIS—TASTED each other. Loved each other, physically. Our sex life was a frenzy of mating and sensual enjoyment—for several months. Then it rang hollow. Sex became less frequent. When we were intimate, there was an emptiness. I could feel pleasure in my physical being, but my brain and soul were restless.
When I’m with Georgia, my heart fills full to overflowing.
So does my cock, which is a coarse comparison, and I know I ought not to be thinking such crude things while lying beside a beautiful, virginal goddess half my size. Her first moments with her mate (because in my head, I’m determined that’s what I am , that’s what I will be) should be sacred and special.
But while Georgia may look angelic—she’s a different kind of angel, the archangel sort, the kind that fears nothing. She’s a War Maiden, through and through. She moves from my gentle caresses before I can ask if I was too rough, or if she wants me to get her anything, sitting up and looking down on me.
“Wow,” she grins a lazy, sated grin as her eyes explore me.
This body isn’t as well muscled and sculpted as some young Orc in his prime, but Georgia doesn’t seem to mind. “Good?”
“Amazing.” Her hand rests on my chest. Her fingers trail down the small indent between my abdominal muscles. They used to be more defined, but Georgia doesn’t compare or complain. Her breath quickens, and her hand slips lower and lower with nothing but adoration in her gaze.
She doesn’t just make me feel young again. She makes me feel alive for the first time, alive in this special way when your soul is finally whole, with both parts joined up.
Soul and Soulmate. That’s us.
Well, tell her that, Dougie! Open your mouth, you ass! Confess your love. Tell her your soul belongs to her. That you’ve waited for a lifetime to share this moment, and you want to share all the rest of the moments after!
But I don’t say a word. My brain takes a backseat as her fingers find the base of my cock. “ Ah .” A single, harsh burst of air is all I can get out.
“Sorry!” She pulls her fingers to the safety of my thigh, but her eyes travel languidly from my cock to my face. “May I?”
“You can do anything you damn well please to me,” I say in a snarl that probably sounds aggressive instead of eager.
My War Maiden doesn’t mind. She scoots closer. “Big.”
“Mm.” Big enough for her. When my fingers were inside Georgia, I could feel that she was built long and deep, perfect for an Orc’s cock. Her pussy stretched and spread around my fingers, then gripped like a heavenly vise. She’s meant to take a knot—my knot.
She’s full of surprises.
Like right now, as she licks her lips and smiles. From the moment I saw her, I knew she was Half-Orc. That beautiful smile is just a shade too wide for a human jaw.
“Anything I please?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“I don't know how to... To do what you did to me.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Oh, but I want to. So much.” Georgia moves her hand to the base of my cock and wraps her fingers around it this time, tight and squeezing, just above my knot. Before I know it, she’s lying on her side, her head at my hips.
My hand rests on her silken waves, trying to think of words that express gratitude and will reassure her that any efforts will be welcome.
I never get a chance.
In less than a second, Georgia opens her mouth and pulls my crown past her lips, her tongue swirling and flicking as she sucks me in. Her cheeks bulge and her jaw is strained as she tries to fit the wide head in her mouth, but she succeeds.
“Oh, God.” Pleasure washes over me, so intense that I’m afraid I’m going to shoot my load down the back of her throat and gag her. “Love, go easy, or I’ll burst.”
“I was hoping you would burst!” Georgia releases me with a wet kiss and licks her tongue right over the slit in my crown. “You made me come. I wanna make you come.”
“But not... But not without warning,” I hiss, blushing. I would love to come in her mouth. I would love to come in her tight, hot pussy.
“I’m sure I’ll have some warning,” she smiles and licks me again, this time letting her tongue swipe the ridge around the crown, a sensitive spot that makes my hips arch forward. “See? You’ll do stuff like that. It’s a clue.”
“Argh.” I make a strangled noise as she sucks me in again, hollowing out her cheeks to pull my pre-cum from me. Her hands join in, sliding up and down my shaft while squeezing.
“Fuck!” This woman is going to milk the cum right out of me.
She stops to pout at me. “You said we had to wait.” Then she dives right back down, each time taking me farther and farther into her warm, wonderful mouth.
It’s soft in there, and the suction is exquisite. When paired with the way she strokes my shaft, I’m sure I’ll last another minute at most.
And then...
One hand continues its journey up and down my length while the other finds my knot with soft fingertips.
I tense. My knot is incredibly sensitive and extra hungry for an embrace. It’s been a long time since I had any sort of sexual attention, but even longer since I had my knot welcomed in a warm, wet sanctuary.
Georgia stops as I whimper and squirm. “Is that a painful spot?”
“Oh, God, no! That’s an incredible spot. Been so long since a woman touched me there. You have to be careful, though, love. If there was a fuse on this cannon, that’s it.”
“Ooh, the fuse on the cannon? So, giving your knot some attention might make the canon go boom?” She licks her lips, fluttering her lashes.
“Menace. Temptress.”
“What if I lick it?”
I still. Nicola never did that. It was a functional item for her, not a fun one.
“Would it feel good if I sucked on it?”
Her hands are still moving on me, massaging my aching knot as it swells to the fullest it’s been in years. Maybe ever.
My world is kaleidoscoping, too many thoughts and lustful images swirling. I can’t think clearly. “So good.”
That’s not a deterrent, I realize.
Georgia understands, too, sliding her mouth over my shaft in a long, open-mouthed kiss, working down the side from tip—to knot. When she reaches the nearly painful swell, she begins to lap at it with soft, gentle flicks of her tongue, one hand busy on my shaft. The other comes up to cup and squeeze my knot, snuggling it to her mouth.
Why is she so good to me? Touching every part like it’s precious? I’m not the delicate flower. I’m the big green thorn, if anything.
Her tongue traces the throbbing veins. “Can’t believe this goes in me,” she whispers, looking up and placing a kiss on my hip bone.
“It doesn’t always go the first time or even the tenth. It’s no less wonderful.”
“But if you’re knotted with your mate, don’t you have long, long orgasms? You stay hard inside of me, and I keep squeezing you?” Georgia asks.
“Yeah, it can be that way.”
One eyebrow arches. “Do you think I’m too small? Because there’s this tea—”
“No, love. I’ve just never had it happen.” Nicola and I shared that intimacy, but it was usually short-lived, over in ten or fifteen minutes, whereas I heard other men bragging about being with their wives for an hour or more. “I think thirty minutes is about the average.”
“Mm. Thirty minutes to come on your cock as many times as I want? Sign me up.”
I don’t tell her I’ve never lasted that long. I used to wonder if Nicola was disappointed or relieved when we were done in a shorter amount of time.
Somehow with Georgia, I think she’ll love every second of it, whether it's five minutes or fifty.
“You went into your head again. Come back to me,” Georgia whispers.
“I’m here, pet. Never leave you.”
My chest is tight. She pulls feelings and promises right out of me without any effort. She’s half my size, but she’s the mistress and I’m her willing slave, one caress and I simply submit.
“Well, good. Because that’s where I want you. With me.” Georgia shifts and pulls herself closer to me (which I didn’t think was possible). Her breasts hug tight around my knot while one hand continues to slide and squeeze along my shaft. Her mouth goes back to licking and sucking around my tip while she looks up at me.
“I’ll come all over you in a second,” I gasp. I can’t fight it. It’s too good, too much.
I’ve been wanting this since I first knew what sex was, this feeling of physical pleasure coupled with a sense of inner bliss.
Georgia delivers.
And then she goes above and beyond, straight into my dirtiest fantasies.
“All over me? In my mouth? On my tits?” She squirms against me, sumptuous soft hills against my throbbing knot.
“Fuck, woman.”
“Mmm, that’s for later, and I can’t wait. But I will wait. I’d wait forever for the right one.”
I won’t make her wait that long.
“Precious, move !” My spine rocks forward hard as the pressure leaves my knot and travels up my shaft. Seconds left until I make a mess of her. Some part of my brain thinks I shouldn’t.
“‘Kay.” She moves—moves her mouth stubbornly onto my cock, sucking for all she is worth, making little hums of encouragement.
I’m going to make her come again after this, better than I did before. I have no other options, she deserves it.
I don’t think we’re going to get to that paperwork. We might not even get to dinner!
That’s all right. Seems we have other appetites to take care of.
Her tongue flits over my sensitive tip, and the last of my self-control is swished away. With a sharp curse, I start emptying my cum into her mouth, watching her eyes widen in surprise.
In a second, she pulls back, and cum streams out across her cheeks and chin, down her throat, and over her beautiful breasts.
I like seeing my gorgeous Georgia wearing traces of me, covered in me. I’ve heard many women don’t like that, but Georgia grins and lolls back, one hand going between her thighs as I collapse from my side to my back.
“That was incredibly hot,” she purrs.
“Aye, it was. I...I warned you.”
“Oh. Is it bad? I mean, do you think it’s not okay to... you know. On me?” Georgia lazily rubs the other hand over her breast. “Does it have to be in me?”
Oh, fuck, in her, yes...
I blink myself back to the present and out of some future fantasy. “I’ve no problem with it. I was only concerned whether you might.”
“I don’t mind. I think you taste good. Like something a little bitter, but with spicy notes. Spicy like cinnamon.”
I blink. “Like coffee and cinnamon?”
“Mmhm.”
“Funny. You taste like peaches and sex to me, but you smell like coffee and vanilla, and a pinch of cinnamon.”
“Well, I do run a coffee shop,” she giggles.
And just like that—we’re cuddling, and talking, and kissing while covered in cum. My fingers replace hers, rubbing her soaked pussy in hopes of bringing her to another peak.
“You’re a mess.” I smile and kiss her forehead.
“Your fault.”
The image of Georgia standing in the shower while I kneel under her, letting the water cascade over me as her juices do the same fills my head.
But no. No. Showering after sex is intimate. Private. She might need time alone.
“We should clean up. Shower, m’lady?”
“Sure.” Georgia rolls to the floor—going over top of me so that there’s a blissful moment when I feel her naked weight against me. When her feet touch down, she pulls me up with her. “You’re coming with me, right? I mean, it is your shower, and I’ve never been here. I think it’s your duty as the host to make sure I don’t get lost.”
I raise one eyebrow. The shower is in the bathroom directly across the hall. “Lost?”
“Okay, maybe not lost. But lonely,” she wheedles.
I scoop her up, and she sighs. “I’d be happy to oblige. What about that charm to make it bigger?”
“Make the shower bigger? Sure, I can, but I told you it won’t last long. A day, tops.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve put in a request to Madge at the magic shop. I just want it bigger for tonight. And maybe in the morning. Big enough for two.”
Georgia nods, head on my shoulder. She fits perfectly in my arms. “I can do that.”
Her fingers weave through my hair, stroking along my scalp. She’s not pulling me in for a kiss, she’s just... touching me. To touch me. Like she wants to be with me. Like she loves me.
“If I’m putting in all that effort, we’d better make good use of it with a long, hot shower.” her blue eyes dare me to argue.
I smirk. That’s a dare I’ll not be accepting.
“Of course. Dinner can wait.” Until breakfast, if necessary.