Chapter 24 Forla
FORLA
The door barely clicks shut behind Anchor before Thoktar has me slammed against it.
His mouth crashes into mine, tusks scraping my lips, tongue forcing my jaw wide so he can devour me. One huge hand fists in my hair and yanks my head back; the other tears the front of my dress open in a single savage pull. Buttons ping across the stone floor like hailstones.
“Been hard since that bastard said the bed was sturdy,” he snarls against my throat. “Let’s see if he lied.”
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, legs dangling, and carries me straight to the bedroom. The firelight paints his green skin bronze and gold, every scar and ridge of muscle standing out in sharp. I’m already soaked, thighs slick, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my clit.
He throws me onto the mattress. The frame is thick oak, built for sailors and storms, but the first bounce makes it groan ominously. I don’t care. I spread my legs wide and reach for him.
Thoktar strips with impatient violence. Leather rips, metal buckles clatter to the floor. His cock springs free, monstrous, flushed dark, veins thick as my fingers, already dripping. I whimper at the sight.
He climbs over me, knees forcing my thighs wider, and pins both my wrists above my head with one hand. The other wraps around my throat, gentle pressure, just enough to remind me who owns every breath I take.
“Tonight you don’t come until I say,” he growls. “Tonight you scream until your voice breaks. Tonight I ruin this little human body so thoroughly you’ll feel me for weeks.”
I nod frantically, tears of pure need already gathering.
He starts with my tits.
He sucks one nipple deep, tusks framing it, teeth scraping, tongue lashing until I’m arching off the bed.
Then he bites, hard enough to leave perfect crescents, and switches to the other.
Back and forth, over and over, until both breasts are swollen, red, dripping with his spit and my own helpless tears.
Then he moves lower.
He spreads my thighs until my hips scream, hooks my knees over his shoulders, and buries his face in my cunt like a starving beast. His tongue, teeth, lips, tusks, everything at once.
He licks inside me, fucks me with his tongue, then sucks my clit so hard my vision tunnels.
Two fingers slam in alongside his tongue, then three, stretching me open, curling, pumping, while his thumb grinds my clit without mercy.
I come screaming within seconds, back bowing, squirting over his chin.
He doesn’t stop. He drinks me down and keeps going, forcing a second orgasm on the heels of the first, then a third, until I’m sobbing, shaking, trying to twist away because it’s too much and he just laughs, dark and filthy, and pins me harder.
“Stay still, little doll. I’m nowhere near done eating this cunt.”
He flips me onto my stomach, drags my hips up, and spreads my ass wide.
His tongue spears into my asshole without warning.
I scream into the pillow, the sound muffled and broken.
He tongue-fucks my ass while four fingers now stretch my pussy, thumb still tormenting my clit.
Another orgasm rips through me so violently I see white.
He rises up, lines his cock at my entrance, and drives in to the hilt in one merciless thrust.
The stretch is obscene. I feel every ridge, every vein, the impossible heat of him.
The bedframe creaks dangerously beneath us.
He doesn’t give me time to adjust, just starts pounding, hips slamming, balls slapping my clit with every stroke.
The headboard smashes into the wall in a steady, violent rhythm.
I scream his name, claw at the sheets, come again so hard I squirt around his cock and soak the mattress. He snarls approval and fucks me harder, deeper, angling until he’s battering that spot inside that makes me lose my mind.
The bed gives its first real warning, an ominous crack of wood, but he doesn’t slow. If anything he speeds up, gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises, using me like a toy built for one purpose.
“Gonna break this fucking bed while I break you,” he promises, voice ragged.
He does.
On one particularly savage thrust the left side rail splinters clean through. The mattress tilts, but Thoktar doesn’t miss a beat. He just drags me down with him, keeps me impaled, and starts fucking me into the ruined frame like a machine that will never stop.
I’m screaming nonstop now, voice cracking, tears and spit soaking the sheets. Another orgasm crashes over me, then another, until they blur together into one endless wave. My whole body is shaking, cunt spasming helplessly around his cock, and still he doesn’t slow.
He flips me onto my back in the wreckage, hooks my legs over his forearms, and folds me in half. The new angle lets him go deeper, impossibly deep, until I swear I feel him in my throat. The broken bed rocks beneath us, wood screaming in protest.
“Look at me,” he orders.
I force my eyes open. His face is feral, sweat-slick, tusks fully extended, eyes black with possession.
“You’re going to take my seed so deep you’ll taste it tomorrow,” he growls. “And you’re going to come again while I do it.”
He slams home one last time and I shatter, vision going black at the edges, body seizing so hard I’m afraid I’ll break in half.
Pleasure so intense it’s almost pain floods every nerve.
I feel him swell inside me, then the first scalding jet of orc cum painting my womb.
He keeps thrusting through it, forcing rope after rope deeper, until I’m overflowing, until it’s leaking out around his cock with every stroke.
I pass out.
I don’t know how long I’m gone, seconds, minutes, but I come to with a sharp slap across my cheek. Not cruel, just enough to sting, to drag me back.
“Wake up, little doll,” he croons, voice rough with satisfaction. “I’m not finished.”
He flips me onto my stomach in the ruins of the bed, drags my hips up, and spreads my ass wide. I’m still limp, floating, when I feel the blunt, slick head of his cock, still rock-hard and dripping with us, press against my asshole.
I whimper, half terror, half desperate want.
He pushes in slow this time, relentless, letting me feel every impossible inch as he claims the last virgin part of me. The stretch burns, perfect, overwhelming. When he bottoms out, balls pressed tight against my soaked pussy, he leans over me, chest to my back, and whispers in my ear:
“Mine.”
Then he starts to move.
There’s no gentleness now. He fucks my ass like he fucked my cunt, hard, punishing, owning.
The broken bedframe rocks and splinters further beneath us.
I scream into the ruined mattress, fists clawing at broken wood, coming again from the sheer intensity of it.
He reaches under me, finds my clit, and rubs merciless circles until I’m sobbing, until another orgasm tears through me and I feel his cock swell impossibly thicker.
He roars, hips stuttering, and I feel it, burning hot orc seed flooding my ass, so much it hurts, so much it leaks out around him in thick pulses. He grinds deep, making sure every drop stays inside, then collapses over me, pinning me to the wreckage with his full weight.
We lie there, panting, sweat-slick, cum dripping from every hole, the bed nothing but kindling beneath us.
After a long moment he rolls us to the side, still buried in my ass, and gathers me close. His voice is hoarse, almost tender.
“Sleep, little one. Tomorrow we run again.”
I’m already drifting, body wrecked, mind blissfully empty, marked inside and out by the only male who ever made me beg to be broken.