7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
S ahginoth rolled to his side, his cock still hard inside her, and smoothed her hair back from her face, cradling her in the crook of his arm. She sighed, her thigh sliding lower on his hip as she traced the thick lines of his tattoos with a finger, her breath warm against his chest. He cupped her face in his hand, tilting it up so she met his gaze. He could feel the intensity of her deep brown eyes on his for a moment before she looked down to his lips, waiting for him to speak.
"You are well?" he asked.
"I am well," she answered with a sated smile. "That was wonderful."
"Not painful?"
She leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Do you see how happy I am? Did you feel me reach my peak?" she asked. He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut briefly at the remembered pleasure of it. "Was it good?" she murmured, the curve of her plump arse warm under his hand as he caressed her soft skin, holding her close.
Was it good? It was everything. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, ask her, but he struggled to find the words. Instead, he said, "Yes."
"Was this truly your first time?" she asked quietly, her brow furrowed. He nodded. "Why?" she asked.
He shrugged. "There were always other things to do." Life was busy in the mountains; there was always work to be done. It was often monotonous, but it was never-ending. He liked to be self-sufficient and not live off the efforts of the village as some village leaders did. He reached the end of each day tired but satisfied, never feeling the urge to sink his cock into something. No one had ever stirred him enough.
She laughed softly at his answer, her cunt tightening slightly around him, and he groaned, his hips thrusting towards her on instinct. She gasped as his cock slipped deeper inside, its passage eased now by the spend that leaked out between them. "Again?" she asked, her voice breathy, and he answered her by lifting her leg over his arm, holding her wide for him as he thrust, savoring her wet heat around him.
It was slower this time, his urgency lessened. She kissed every inch of his skin that she could reach as he filled her, her tongue lapping at his tattoos, her teeth teasing his nipples. He closed his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him. He loved the little nips of her mouth, the warm curve of her stomach pressed to his, the soft giving flesh of her thigh in his hand. He loved her lusty moans and whimpers, the breathy sighs she made when he thrust deep, as if he filled her so much there was no room in her body for breath.
He had loved having her near him the past few months, simply sharing space in the hut and on their hunts. He loved her smiles and laughter, the low, husky sound of her voice. He loved her stories of her childhood hunting in the lowlands. He loved the smell of her, sweat and woman. He loved having her beneath him, feeling her naked skin.
He loved her. He hadn't the first idea how to tell her.
She pushed slightly as his chest and he looked down in alarm, but she did not seem pained, her lips open and wet from kissing him, her eyes blown with pleasure. "I need more," she said. "Harder. I need you to touch me." His fingers dug into her ass, reluctant to release her as she squirmed away from him. "Let's try something else," she urged, and he let her crawl away. "Come here," she murmured with a smile as she knelt above him. He sat up to meet her and she kissed him, stroking his cock as she tugged his lip between her teeth. She released him and faced away from him on hands and knees, her thick arse raised as she grinned at him over her shoulder. "Take me," she ordered.
Sahginoth ground his teeth together, forcing himself to move slowly as he rubbed his cock through her folds, slicking it before resting the head at her entrance. She pressed back against him, his cock sinking in to the hilt. He gripped her hips, groaning as her channel fluttered around him, squeezing him like a fist. "Hard," she moaned. "Please."
He watched, hypnotized, as her flesh jiggled with each sharp thrust, her hair falling over her shoulders as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Their hips slapped together, the sound a filthy sensual rhythm in the quiet darkness. He leaned down, bracing his arms on either side of her, and sucked a mark into the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. "Touch me," she gasped, guiding one of his hands to the curls between her legs. She pressed his fingers to the hard bead of flesh and he circled it just the way she showed him, grunting in pleasure as she tightened around him. Her breath stuttered, her arms giving out, and she rested her cheek on the furs, moaning as he plunged into her.
He wanted more of her touching him, more of her skin against his. He wrapped an arm around her ribs and sat back on his heels, pulling her with him, speared on his cock. His hips snapped up against her as he rubbed her bud. Her head fell back to his shoulder, her eyes unfocused, and he palmed her breast as he held her against him, pinching her pink nipple. She cried out, her body jerking in his hold, her sex pulsing around him as she reached her peak. Her hands fluttered against his thighs, nails scratching him, and he slowed his thrusts, allowing her a rest as she gasped for breath.
Gyrda wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers as the tremors shaking her body subsided. They kissed, open-mouthed and hungry, his hands stroking over her soft stomach and breasts. He'd always liked soft things, had hoarded the pillows Zarhu had made him over the years, but Gyrda's skin was softer still than any of the old woman's fabrics, plush and thick enough to rest his head on when he slept. He hoped she would let him, someday.
She moved against him, grinding down on his cock, and he groaned into her mouth. She seemed determined to make him come apart, raising and lowering herself slowly on him, her cunt stroking him like a silken fist. He could feel his bollocks draw up tight and he gripped her hips as she rode him.
"Gyrda," he growled against her ear. She answered only by moving faster, her breasts bouncing as she took him over the precipice, every muscle in his body tightening as he poured himself into her. His cock jerked in her warm cunt, flooding her with seed. She leaned back against him, pressing soft kisses to his throat as the pleasure subsided, his cock finally softening.
He took a shuddering breath and she pulled away from him, his cock slipping from her. He pulled her back to him, sitting in the furs and dragging her into his lap. He wasn't yet ready to let her go. The pleasure of her warm skin against his was too great. He kissed her, smoothing his hands over her back, her legs, the heavy weight of her breasts. He skimmed his fingers up the smooth skin of her inner thighs, pausing at the sticky feel of his seed seeping down her legs. He froze.
He'd spilled his seed inside her. Would she... could she...
He looked down at her, his eyes wide, and she frowned at him in concern. "Could you be... with child?" he asked, barely able to speak above a whisper, though she read his lips.
"A child?" she asked, her eyes widening too. "No, don't worry." She stood, laughing slightly as his spend dripped down to her knees. She pulled a cleaning cloth from a chest and wet it with one of the water skins, wiping herself clean. "I'm barren. You cannot get me with child."
The tightness in his chest eased slightly. He loved the orclings in the village, but he'd never felt the pull to be a father, never wanted the responsibility of caring for a small helpless creature. It seemed too daunting, when he already had so many to care for: every soul in this village, and those spread out amongst the many Delakki clans. He was their chief. He had no time to be a father.
He stood with a sigh and wet another cloth, cleaning himself. "Are you certain?" he asked.
She nodded. "I was married for nine years and never fell pregnant. My bleeding has never been frequent or predictable. I was not meant to be a mother."
"But that could have been your husband's fault," he pressed.
She looked up at him hesitantly, her lips thinning as she tossed her cleaning cloth in the laundry pile. "No, it couldn't." She sighed, her eyes squeezing closed for a brief second, and he reached out, resting his hand against her back. She leaned into the touch. "We tried for a child for years, and I was always happy we never succeeded. I didn't want to raise a child with him, to be tied to him like that. Eventually, he gave up, and I was glad." She blew out an angry breath, her muscles tensing, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest. "That was what we fought about the day he pushed me. His mistress had conceived, and he was furious it was not me, but I..." she shuddered. "I laughed. He struck me and I fell."
He tilted her face up to his. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." A small smile curved her lips as her hands flattened on his chest. "I might have spent the rest of my life in that dingy tavern, quietly miserable, the days blending together in monotony until I felt as if I was sleepwalking. He woke me up that day. I decided I would live my life, free myself. And I have." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, a quick unsatisfying press of her lips against his, then stepped away. He leaned towards her, wanting more.
"Thank you," she said shyly. "For sharing your first time with me. That was lovely." She turned towards her bed, across the fire from him. "I'll let you sleep."
He watched in stunned silence as she pulled her clothes back on and slipped between her furs. Then he lay back down in his own, the warmth from their bodies gone but the mingled scent of them remaining. He stared at the curtain he'd erected between them months ago, longing for her beside him.
Was that all? Had she merely needed to lie with him to erase the memories of her husband? To help her start her new life? Was she finished with him now, when he felt as if they'd just begun? And how could he convince her to abandon the corner of the hut she'd made for herself and join him, here? Every night. Even if she did not want to lie with him again, he would happily settle for holding her in his arms.
He would take any piece of her she would give him, and be grateful for it.