She realizedthatwas why her blue dress felt so important — because the possibility of having an exclusively Orcish ceremony was a real one. None of her own traditions, none of her own kin. She didn't know how to plan a wedding and certainly did not want to have to plan two, but the thought of looking back in a hundred years time to remember her wedding, surrounded by only strangers, standing before fire that didn't mean anything specific to her, was not one she could swallow down.
“It’s . . . it’s important to me to have something I can invite my nana to. I don’t mean I’m not willing to fly down south, I am, but—”
"Here's what I think we need to do Lurielle,” he interrupted, his fork dancing before her as he chewed. “I think we need to pack up the dogs and your little wedding book and go to the cabin for the weekend. Couples massage. Boil ourselves in the steam tubs and then do a nice cold dip. Maybe another massage for good measure. Then, once our bellies are full and our bodies are tenderized, we can pick some dates that work for our schedules. We can have our fire oath up here, darlin'. I don't have any sort of rule hanging over my head telling me I have to go home to the clan to have it done. They're perfectly capable of gettin' on a plane. Iamgoing to warn you, though— if we don't go home for it, we’ll have to make a trip down eventually for the celebration. That's outta my hands. And I don't think you should be responsible for doin' this alone, Bluebell. I am a model of amodern orc; I'm capable of visiting florists with you. Ain't no daisy bouquet going to makethisbig dragon insecure."
She laughed, feeling tears pick her eyes again as she came around the desk, a tidal wave of relief seeming to wash over her, leaving her sopping wet and somewhat at ease. They would —could—figure this out together.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, babe. The resort is closed already for the season. We can grease you up and Ordo and I can try walking on your back, but that's the best we can do.” When he folded her in his arms, pulling her across his lap once more, Lurielle sighed.You need to stop doing this to yourself. You're supposed to be partners, you gotta tell him what's going on in your head once in a while.
Almost as if he could read her thoughts, Khash gripped her chin, tilting her face up to him. "Bluebell, you got nothing to worry over. I'm not. I'm marrying the most beautiful elf in the world. The only thing I'm concerned over is buying a new bed, because I intend to break ours on our wedding night."
She almost fell off his lap laughing, hooking her arms around his neck to hold on. "Our wedding night?! We practically lived together as it is!"
He clucked his tongue, hand dropping to knead at her hip, cupping a handful of her ass as he did so. "Do you really think that makes a difference? Maybe you're going to find out I've been holding out on you. Did you ever think that, darlin’? An Orcish wedding night is a marathon. If we're not spending the whole night feasting and fucking, we're doin' something wrong."
She shifted on his lap as she laughed, biting her lip as he groaned when she did so. Another twisted her hips, another press into his groin, another rumble from his throat.
"Bluebell, this peach of yours is writing checks I hope you're able to cash."
He bucked upward into her, and she was able to feel the shape of him, thick in his bespoke trousers. She had never beenthatgirl . . . but maybe it was time she started. When she dropped her hand to rest against the bulge at the front of his pants, Khash groaned again. She was able to trace the outline of his cock, stiff beneath her palm, but not yet straining. There was still time for her to get off his lap and straighten her skirt and go on her merry way, allowing him to restore some professionalism to his office.
But you met at a nudist resort. You had sex in a public bath an hour or two after saying hello. Has professionalism ever been a part of this relationship?She grinned impishly.
"Why do I have a feeling that I'm either going to hate that look or it's going to be my new favorite expression of yours?"
She wasn't wearing anything fancy or designer, but she liked the way she looked that day. She liked the way she felt. She didn't especially want to muss her clothing or run the risk of ruining her skirt . . . But she could take care of him another way.
"Are you sure that door is locked?"
"Bluebell —"
She never found out what Khash was about to say to her, for as she massaged his bulge, pausing only to unbuckle his belt and draw down zipper, his words fell away, being replaced with another low rumble.
"Darlin', you're going to need to do that again."
Lurielle grinned, more than happy to oblige. His cock was a fat outline against his thigh, and she squeezed him again, slowly, from root to tip, cupping the area she knew in which his balls were nestled, drawing him out slowly. Never in her life had she been the sort to drop to her knees in a place of business and suck a cock, but as she ran her tongue over the edge of his puckered foreskin, she reminded herself that this was notherplace of business.
"I hope you enjoyed me coming to visit you for lunch today."
Khash's response was choked as she licked a stripe over his domed head, gently pulling his foreskin down until she was able to suck the whole thing in her mouth. It's no different than visiting the scoop truck,she thought, flattening her tongue as she laved his silky-hot skin, pausing to slurp at the tip once it began to bead with pre-cum.No different at all.
"What was that you said about writing checks my mouth needed to cash?" she asked, pulling back to take a few good breaths, before sinking her mouth down his shaft as far as she was able.
"For the record, I didn't say anything about your mouth, darling. But I sure am glad she brought her pocketbook. You're going to have me creaming all over this chair."
She needed to go back to the apartment and get her things before she headed back to Cambric Creek. She would call the local florist, she decided, using her hand to grip his shaft. No sense in dealing with strangers from the city, not when her little town provided everything she needed. She would go through Silva's helpful binder again, this time with a serious eye, looking at colors, making up her mind. She and Khash could visit the flower shop on a Saturday for a consultation, pick things out together. He was right. She didn't need to worry about all of this alone. They were partners now, and they would be for the rest of their days.
She paused her ministrations, pulling out his heavy sack to hang over the front of his fly, using her hand to pump the bottom of his shaft as her mouth got back to work sucking from the top. Her other hand cupped his scrotum, rolling his heavy balls, tugging them gently until he groaned above her.
"Bluebell, I hope you have a plan for this big load, because it's got your name written all over."
She did. She had never beenthatelf before, but she never had a partner that had made her want to be. She needed to get homeand start tackling all of these problems that had been swirling in her mind endlessly, one at a time, use her engineering brain to handle this as efficiently and effectively as she would if it were a problem at work.
. . .But first, she was going to make him come for her in the middle of the afternoon; a big, sloppy orc-sized load that did, indeed, have her name all over it. And she wouldn't have it any other way.
When she slipped her hand beneath his sac to drive her knuckle into the soft skin behind it, Khash grunted, leaning forward in his seat as if she'd punched him in the gut. She knew the fastest way to make his cock erupt was to hit him right in the sweet spot.
He'd told her as much that very first night they met.
