Steve
Imove from where I'm nestled between her thighs, propping myself back on my haunches. She’s spread out on the bed, red hair fanned as one of her teats shows, the rosy pink nipple begging to be touched. I feel the stir in my pants, my cock ready to go again despite barely being touched. Having her atop me, the way she rolled her hips, the cries and moans that escaped her lips, can only be described as an addiction. Now that I've had a taste, my mouth will always be dry in need of a drink of her.
Rubbing my forearms, two faint rings had appeared as she used my body for her pleasure. The need she talked of was just another confirmation in a long string that I'm avoiding…was avoiding. The marks showing, even as faint as they are, the undeniable truth that we are fated, that Rosie is my bonded.
“I… I suspected back at the Gate, when I first saw you.”
“Suspected what?” she squints at me, adjusting the strap on her dress so her teats are once again covered.
“I think, well, now I know that we… we are… are?—”
“What Steve? You’re worrying me now?” she whispers, kneeling in front of me.
She’s so small like this, her eyes wide, brow furrowed. This is meant to be something precious. To find your bonded and celebrate its confirmation, but here I am fumbling it.
“We are bonded. You and I are two-thirds of one soul, Bellator, my brother, will no doubt be aware of this new development too.”
“I thought you already said we were bonded, or fake bonded? I'm no longer sure what we were meant to be if I'm honest.” Her shoulders drop as she releases a loud sigh, trying to think of the right way to let her know this is a near impossible coupling. No big deal, just a confirmation that the universe aligned and created three different pathways through time so that we all happened to be in the same Realm of Hell and cross paths to ignite the bonding spark. No big deal at all.
“These rings,” I say, extending my forearm to show two thick bands circling above my wrists. “It is common for orcs to develop one band when they meettheir fated mate, but questions have always surrounded my brother and I. Twins are so rare among my kind that everything we did was observed, and my mother…” I turn away from her briefly, not wanting to see her face when the harsh realities of this place are revealed. “My mother was bred to try and make another set.” For all the good we have in Hell, we are not exempt from unnecessary cruelty.
Gasping, she pulls her hand back, cradling it to her chest like she’d been stung. “They did what to her?”
“My mother was blessed and cursed the day she birthed us. I suspected you were my bonded from the pull I felt toward you that day at the Gate. I'm telling you about my mother so you understand that when we find my brother, the Realms will watch us once again. At least until something more interesting comes along. You will not be bred, you will be cherished and protected.” I try to explain everything as best I can. We had a good life, a great one at times, but I never stopped seeing all the ways we were treated differently from when I first noticed it. After my mother died and Bellator and I decided to live as individuals, the relief I felt was life changing. In Realm Seven, I am the Inn Keeper, the local orc who will break up a fight and serve you a drink in the same breath. I'm not a twin, an anomaly. I’m just Steve. “When we find Bellator, it would be wise to keep our impending bonding quiet. The impish here already believe this is the case, so we continue with the same narrative.” I'm talkingtoo much because she isn't. Rosie just stares at me, wide eyed, listening to every word spilling from my mouth. This is probably the moment she quietly walks away from me,from us. I will ensure she has the correct travel papers, then we can go back to the Gate. At least if I send her to Emmie, she will be with her kind in Realm Seven.
Several rapid knocks at the door interrupt us, and we both turn to see if another imp opens the door. It could be to confirm the story that is already making its way through the city, or someone in need of extra coin. Either reason would be viable at this point in our stay. But neither of those things happened. A thick gold envelope is pushed through the gap underneath the door, the swoosh it makes scraping across the stone floor, the only sound in the room.
My brow dips, confused by this unexpected delivery. Is this news of Bellator? How unusual for it to be sent in something so ornate, but whoever sent it could be trying to appeal to the wealth I've been subtly throwing around. Turning back to Rosie, she remains kneeling on the bed in the same position. Tentatively, I reach out my hand to her, stopping just shy of touching.She needs to come to me. Her face is frantic, a million emotions flickering past until she settles on just one.
Determination. Her brow is furrowed, her full lips pressed to a firm line. She closes the gap and grasps onto my hand, her other resting over my bond marks.
“Whatever it says, I’m here until the end.”
“Whaa— you're not leaving?” I clarify.
“No. You've shown more kindness in the last two days than anyone ever did back on earth, so let's do it for real. Let's get bonded and find your brother. Whatever happens after that, we’ll figure it out.” She says, getting off the bed and walking toward the envelope. Scrambling after her, the deep V in the back of her dress showing me far more than I ever expected to see.
“Princess, wait. Stop.” I drop the straps of her dress, her waist that was covered while we touched, now exposed to the room, and with it four black bands. Her bonding marks, wrapped around her waist. If there was a shred of doubt left, it has just been destroyed in confirming this. I expected them to appear on her arms like mine, but now that I see them, it seems obvious that they would appear somewhere else. She is human. She will present differently to us.
“Steve, oh my God, you can’t just take off my clothes like that!”
“Your bonding marks, you have them. Look,” I urge, touching her waist.
Her eyes flare as she follows my fingers. Tracing the lines of her connection to Bellator and me.
“Are we already bonded then? When we… just before when we…” Her voice trails off.
“When we make the dry humping. This confirmed our bond, but until we have Bellator, we will not be truly connected.”
“I need to hump both of you?” she whispers.
“We must connect, yes.”
“Sweet Jesus,” she mumbles. Hopefully not too intimidated by the thought of breeding with two orcs. “You’ll never fit.”
“You were made for us, princess.” I try to soothe her, resting my face to her shoulder.
“Okay, enough sex talk. I’m at capacity for all of this bonding right now. We stick to the plan. Keep things low key. Find Bellator. Figure out the rest later,” she says, slipping the straps of her dress back, covering herself from me. “Let’s see what’s in here.”
