Chapter 2 #2
The hand didn’t leave my sleeve after we were through the door. Since we were headed in the direction of my hovel, I didn’t pull away. Was this section of Baltimore that menacing at night? Should I unsheathe the knife at my calf and prepare for an attack?
The Miskal yanked me into a wide space between two buildings. She dropped my arm to grab my shirt with both hands, pulling me down toward her. Then she kissed me.
It took me less than a second to get with the program.
Ozar might wax poetic about wooing a mate, but I had no plans for romance or love.
I had a very specific mandate for the woman I needed to bring home, and this female definitely didn’t meet that criteria.
But I was still a green-blooded orc, and if a comely female, no matter how annoying, wanted to ride my hand-axe, then I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go by.
“Wait.” She pulled away before I could do more than touch her lips with mine. “How drunk are you? Because I’m still a little buzzed from the beer but if you’re too drunk…”
I glared at her. “All of my body parts are functional. You do not need to be concerned about performance.”
The female bit her lip. “That’s not…I didn’t mean to suggest…what I actually want to know is are you sober enough to consent to having sex with me.”
What in the murky bogs was this female talking about? I was tipsy, not possessed by a malignant spirit that had taken over my body and agency. Of course I was sober enough to consent to have sex. I could be drooling and stumbling down the street and still consent to sex.
“Yes.” I spoke carefully and clearly so there would be no misunderstanding. “I want you to ride my hand-axe. I want to have sex with you. Even three bottles of that whiskey would not change my desire to have sex with you.”
“Thank God,” she muttered. Then she kissed me again.
Her mouth was soft and warm, her tongue as bold as she was. With a small frustrated noise, she pulled my shirt from my pants and ran her short nails up the sides of my waist.
My brain left, and my hand-axe swelled to a painful hardness.
Those short nails digging into my skin, her teeth nipping against my lip, her stomach pressing against my hardness—I needed to focus, to concentrate or else I was going to come in my pants.
That hadn’t happened since I was a gangly youth with my first female.
There was no way I would embarrass myself like that again, especially with this feisty human female.
With one hand I grabbed her ass, lifting her up.
She wrapped her legs around my hips and ground herself against me.
With my other hand I reached under her shirt only to halt, momentarily perplexed at the band I encountered halfway up her back.
It had some flimsy clips and hooks that were easily undone.
The band fell open, but dangled from where it was looped over her shoulders.
I carefully slid my hand to her side, testing to see if I needed to support her upright or not.
I should have known better. The Miskal’s muscles were perfectly capable of supporting her own weight, leaving my one hand free to trace her soft skin to the curve of her breasts while my other hand held her against my crotch.
Mountain Gods, this was incredible. Her breasts were barely a handful, so firm but so very soft.
My thumb brushed across the erect nub of her nipple and she gasped into my mouth, pushing against me.
Hiking her up more, I yanked her shirt upward as well as the strange band-like garment so I could taste her breasts.
I licked, sucked, nipped my way along the soft flesh before flicking her nipple with a fast and humming vibration.
“You better fuck me, orc,” she gasped. “You need to fuck me right now.”
I didn’t need the translation app to understand what she meant.
Keeping my mouth on her breast, and one hand supporting her ass, I used the other hand to unbutton and unzip her pants.
Which was as far as I could get without setting her down, since there was no way to remove the garment with her legs wrapped around my waist.
With a frustrated growl, I lowered her, then helped her with the complex task of getting her pants off. We’d managed to get them and the lacy black scrap of fabric that adorned her garden over one of her boots, but they refused to come free from her other shoe.
“Fuck this,” she said, kicking the clothing aside so they dangled from one foot, then reaching for me.
Her honeyed scent lifted to my nose, stiffening my hand axe to the point of agony. With a soft laugh, her hands lowered my pants. Then she gently grasped my hand axe with both hands.
“You have to either squat down of lift me up for this, big boy,” she whispered.
I wanted to squat down and taste her, to spear her with my tongue and make her cry out my name, but I was in agony and she was already climbing up my body, using one hand to position me against her opening.
So I grabbed the firm flesh of her ass. Once more, she wrapped her legs around me. Then she pushed forward and sank my hand axe into her warmth.
I groaned, my vision blurring.
“Do not hold back,” she gasped, rocking her hips against mine.
Tightening my grasp, I pulled her forward until her pelvis cradled against mine, then I let her slide out to the tip of my hand axe before pulling her back home again.
We took a few seconds to explore each other before settling into a rhythm, then increasing speed.
Our flesh slapped, our moans equally loud.
I didn’t care if anyone heard us. I didn’t care if anyone saw us.
With our first few strokes I worried that she’d lose her balance or my grip would slip and she would crash backward into the wall, but this female had the abdominal muscles of an orc warrior, and made it quickly known that she wanted more.
So I gave her more. Faster. Harder. She arched back and I pulled her deep onto my cock, but the thrust of our motion was all her. My role was to hold her up supported by her legs around my waist, the heels of her boots digging erotically into my hips.
I’d always expected sex with a human female would involve me on top in a bed of furs, pushing toward my release while she lay accepting the action.
I’d never thought a human female would have the strength to participate as an equal in our pleasure.
I’d never expected her breathless moans.
I’d never expected her short blunt teeth nipping at my neck, her stubby nails digging into my skin, her eager thrusting as I swelled inside her.
This Miskal was so warm, so wet, so eager. I’d had congress with many orc females in my life, but none had come to me with this level of unbridled passion. She was a Miskal. An argumentative bold, brazen hussy.
And I’d never had sex like this before in my life.
The female gasped, throwing her head back. I dropped my other hand to grip her ass and increase the speed and depth of my thrusts as she faltered, taking over the rhythm. With a cry she shattered, her garden tightening around my hand-axe and pulsing, driving me to my own release.
With a roar I gave way, spilling my seed into her.
I’d always been so careful about not risking a bastard child, but it didn’t cross my mind until the next day that I’d joined with this human female without a single thought of the risks.
It didn’t matter. All I could think about at the time was how much I wanted her, how much I desired to make her mine.
But she wasn’t mine. This was just pleasure, just one night of enjoyment. This Miskal was not the sort of human female I needed to bring home as my bride. And tonight? Tonight was just a release to help me survive until I found my princess.
Once I’d seen her into a hired car and off to her own den, I stood on the sidewalk for a while, feeling a strange ache of loss.
Not mine. I’d never see her again, but as long as I lived, I’d never forget her.
Before I walked back to my hovel, I took out my cell phone and punched the image for the translation app.
The human word for Miskal was shrew.
This human female was indeed a shrew.