Chapter 20
Melelea
Need courses through me with a fierceness that scares me.
I feel wet at my center. After years of having next to no libido, I never thought to have sex again, never thought that I would feel that desire again.
But here, in the aftermath of Wodred’s near-death and confession, I feel like I will die if I don’t feel his skin against mine. I need to know that we are both alive.
Before I can think about it too hard and talk myself out of it, I reach down and begin to pull my skirt up so that I bare my legs. The heat charm still has us engulfed in its gentle warmth, allowing me to expose my skin. I grab one of Wodred’s hands and guide it down to my bare thigh.
Wodred pulls away slightly, breathing heavily, almost panting. “Melelea?” he asks, sounding disbelieving.
“Please, Wodred,” I answer, my voice breathless and pleading. “I need you to touch me. I need to know this is real.”
Wodred groans at that and takes my lips again, almost with desperation.
With a purring thrum, his sibilance starts, unchecked.
Pleasurable shivers race over my skin at the sound.
I’d forgotten how good sibilance feels. His hand slides up my thigh, claws completely sheathed, and pushes my skirt higher, skating over my sensitive skin.
Trolls are hotter-blooded than orcs, and his cool palm on my overheated thigh feels decadent.
I moan at the sensation, and he swallows the sound with his lips on mine.
His tongue comes forward, tentatively, gently, like he is asking for permission.
I gladly allow him entrance, his tongue slicking over mine.
But I need more. I need his hands on me.
I need him in me. I buck my hips lightly forward and am gratified when his questing hand slides toward my center.
His clever fingers find the ties of my undergarments and undoes them, clearing his way to touch me.
With something almost akin to reverence, his fingers find my wetness, brushing gently along the side of my clit.
I mewl against his lips, a needy sound. It feels so good to be touched.
He does it again, exploring around my clit, sliding through my wetness, rubbing gently, and finding what touches please me.
My breathing picks up, growing faster and heavier, my pleasure ratcheting up as he continues his gentle exploration.
My head falls back as I let the slow ecstasy build, my eyes closing as I just feel.
Wodred’s head comes forward and tucks into my neck, kissing and nipping at the tender flesh there as he builds me toward orgasm with his fingers.
His beard scrapes against my collarbone, the slight pain only further increasing my sensitivity.
I am feeling everything at once. His fingers, his kisses, his tongue.
The press of his chest against mine. His ready hardness poking into my belly from under his warkilt.
This seems like a dream. A hallucination.
I don’t recognize myself as the wild, needy creature in Wodred’s arms, chasing my pinnacle as he massages around my clit.
It’s been so long since I’ve had sex and even longer since I’ve enjoyed it, but I swear it never felt like this before.
It’s different this time. Different because of Wodred.
Wodred murmurs against my neck, his voice a mere rumble with his sibilance. “So very beautiful. Like a goddess in your passion. Now let me see you come.”
His words are like a trigger, my pleasure coiling tight and releasing, sending ecstasy flying through my veins.
My orgasm rips through me, and in that moment, I forget that we are supposed to be quiet.
I cry out, but Wodred’s other hand is there, covering my mouth and muffling the sound, almost like he expected it to happen.
Wodred keeps a hold of me as I come down from the peak of my pleasure, one hand going to soothe up and down my spine and the other gently petting my pussy, more comforting than arousing now.
His sibilance has stopped, and he brings his head back up to mine, gently kissing my lips, my forehead, my nose.
Then he rests his forehead against mine, our horns softly clicking together.
“I can die happy now,” he whispers.
That brings me down from the afterglow of my orgasm. I frown and push my forehead against his gently with a touch of censure. “You are not allowed to die.”
Wodred pulls back from me, a small, sad smile on his lips. “I do not want to die. But nothing is guaranteed. Our circumstances have not changed.”
I frown at that, not liking what he is saying, even though I know that he is right. Still, I reach up and cup his face with my hands, looking him deeply in his dark eyes.
“Promise me, Wodred,” I say. “Promise me that we will live through this. I need hope right now.”
“I have never made a vow that I have not kept,” Wodred replies solemnly.
“Then keep this one,” I insist, feeling desperate. “Please. I need you to promise.”
Wodred shares my gaze for a long moment, then brings his hands up, taking my hands off of his face and kissing my fingertips.
“My Oath, Melelea,” he finally rumbles out. “That we will survive this ordeal and get back home safely.”
The knot in my stomach loosens at his words.
I know he is saying this to comfort me, at my insistence, but it calms me nonetheless.
I dart forward, kissing him again on the lips.
When I pull back, he is looking at me with something akin to awe, like he cannot believe I am kissing him.
And there’s a part of me that can’t believe it either.
I thought I’d never want another male again.
But this male is Wodred. The only male who has never failed me.
If there is anyone that I can risk trusting with my heart, it is him.
But I’m feeling suddenly shy in the aftermath of our interlude.
So I do not tell him what I am thinking, what I suspect is in my heart.
Though he has confessed his feelings for me, I cannot do the same.
Not yet. Not until I am sure. I have only ever told one male that I loved him, and that ended in the worst disaster.
I need to be absolutely sure before I give my heart away again, because I don’t think I would survive a second failure.
Wodred doesn’t pick up on my tangled thoughts. Instead, he is putting me back to rights, retying the string on my undergarments and pulling the hem of my skirt back into place.
“We should go,” he says. “We still don’t know what’s down here. It’s not safe to stay in one place for long.”
He’s right, of course. We need to keep moving.
I scoot off of Wodred’s lap and pick up the lumen fragment on the ground while he gets up.
When he’s standing, he helps me up. My legs are still a little shaky from the force of the earlier orgasm, but that doesn't matter because Wodred picks me up again, so that we can both be inside the heat charm’s effective radius.
When I’m in Wodred’s arms, one arm around his neck and the other holding the lumen crystal out, the orc begins to walk again.
As we head deeper into the mountain, I realize that while I found my release, Wodred took no pleasure of his own.
He prioritized my needs while taking nothing for himself.
This stuns me. I have never had a male put me first in intimacy.
But Wodred did it so easily. Never even tried to pressure me to touch him or relieve his ache.
The fact that he never pressured me to pleasure him makes me want to. I want to see what Wodred looks like when he’s undone by me. What kind of face would he make when I take him in my hand? In my mouth?
Perhaps, when we get to safety, I can find out.
???
WE HAVE BEEN traveling for quite some time when I realize that Wodred is flagging.
His steps are getting slower and heavier, his breathing a little more labored.
It’s not surprising. He rode all night last night, survived a storm, an avalanche, and a tunnel collapse, all while caring for and carrying me.
He cannot last much longer, and I don’t want him to take more bloodroot.
I was serious when I said that it is not good for his heart.
So I am relieved when we pass a tunnel to the right that is blocked further down by a cave-in. There’s only one way in. It's a defensible position where we can rest.
Turning in Wodred’s arms, I say, “We should stop here. It’s likely night outside, and wearing ourselves out won’t help in the long run.”
The orc regards the blocked tunnel to our side, likely seeing the same things I did. But, ever cautious, Wodred put me down and instructs, “Stay here while I check the integrity of the tunnel walls.”
I don’t argue, even though I can see moss growing on the caved-in stones, showing they have been there for a long time, and stay where he put me while he walks cautiously in the stretch of tunnel.
He puts a hand on the rock walls and pushes, but the stone doesn’t budge.
When Wodred seems satisfied that the ceiling won’t collapse on us in our sleep, he gestures to me to come forward.
I do so, walking back so that I am right next to the caved-in section of the tunnel.
“You should sleep,” Wodred says. “I’ll take the watch.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say. “I’ll seal us in with a protective circle, and we can both sleep.”
“A protective circle? But your mana is low,” Wodred points out, frowning. “You were not able to rest before because Grazrath invaded your dreams.”
“I have been resting while you carried me,” I state firmly. “Besides, it will only take a small amount of power. Most of the magic is in the runes themselves.”
“And if you draw this protective circle, what will happen?”
“Nothing will be able to cross it without invitation,” I explain. “Either physically or mentally. It should also keep Grazrath out of my dreams, so that he cannot see where we are or know what I know.”