He leaves the words hanging in the air, and I look between Bellator and Steve. “You won't fit?” I say, breathing out the words that repeat like a giant neon sign in my head. “If it's the same thing, then mating is the same as sex,” I hurriedly whisper, getting up on my knees and facing him. “That means your?—”
“Cock.”
“Goes in my?—”
“Womb-Door.”
“Vagina.” We both say the different words at the same time. My jaw drops. Scrambling, I quickly stand, leaning against him, plastering my palm over hismouth, looking over my shoulder, checking no one else magically appeared in the room. “Are you fucking joking with that, Jesus Christ on a bike?” I panic. “What in the Orwellian, 1984, are you talking about. Womb-Door.” A giggle bursts out of me, and I lean into Steve's neck to muffle my laughter. “Please never call it that again.”
“Womb-door is self-explanatory. I do not know what a Va-geen-ah is.”
“I'm not going into a full anatomy class here, but if you can't say vagina, then what about pussy?” I feel the stir of arousal in my clit when I saypussyaloud. It’s a word I've never been brave enough to actually say.
“Pu-say.” He sounds it out. “Pussy. Yes, that is fine.”
The need begins to build in my core. We look at each other, and I lick my lips, the pull toward him growing as my arousal builds. His throat bobs as his arm wraps around my waist, his hand resting against my ass. “Steve,” I moan.
“Princess?” he breathes out.
“Kiss me.” And I smash my lips against his.
Chapter 19
Rosalind
Wrapping my arms around his neck, he holds my body close. I lick the seam of his mouth, a low rumble coming from his chest when he parts his lips, giving me access. We fumble over each other, a clash of tongues and heat. I've never kissed someone before, but I understand the principle, so here's hoping he delights in it as much as I do. Every pass of his hands and sweep of his tongue has this need deep in my belly, growing and building until I can’t fathom taking it anymore. Repositioning myself, I straddle his lap, my pussy perfectly positioned over his hard length.
“Steve, touch me.” I moan.
His hands push the straps of my dress down, and it falls to my waist. His hands trace my bond marks, cupping my breasts and lightly pinching my nipples as I rub against him. I drag my fingers down his chest,feeling each and every muscle rippling beneath me. In one swift motion, he rips his shirt from his body, and I press my naked chest against his, exploring his body with kisses. Taking his hand, I push it between the slit in my dress, guiding him to cup my pussy. His fingers explore each part until one of them nudges against my entrance. His hands are big, each finger long and thick. I've never had anything inside me before, but hell, I want it.
I desperately want it.
The connection I feel with Steve is like nothing I've ever felt, so I don't care if this is the bond or if it’s something else at work. What I know is at this moment in time, my body sings under his touch, and there's no one else I would rather explore this part of me with.
“Take my dress off,” I pant, reaching up and pinching my own nipples. I barely feel the fabric as he tears it from my body, his strength so prominent it feels like the material was made of the most delicate tissue. My legs are spread across his waist, wide open and ready. His hand goes back to my pussy, the heel of his palm pressing against my clit as his finger repositions itself at my entrance. I've propped myself up a little, so it’s up to me to sink down on it. “Just stay like this, okay.” He nods in agreement, pupils dilated. I look his body over, undoing his pants so his cock is free, his piercing catching the light. I lightly run myfinger along the side of his length, trailing the path of a vein that's begging to be licked.
His other hand moves to my hip, his fingers massaging my ass cheeks as I lower down to his first knuckle. It's an odd sensation, like a combination of being torn open but also desperately needing more. I can feel how wet I am as I easily move up an inch and then down to his second knuckle. Leaning forward, he pulls a nipple into his mouth, and a guttural moan escapes me as I sink down all the way, letting my body adjust to the size.
“Take your time, princess.” He purrs as he releases my nipple with a pop. “When you're ready, I'm going to put another finger in, and then another. I'm going to stretch this pussy until it's ready to take me.”
There's something primal about his words because my body reacts as if it was given an order. I try rocking against his hand, my clit sending bolts of pleasure across my body with each sway of my hips. I feel his second finger ready and waiting when I pull up, holding myself as he adjusts his hand.
“Steve,” I gasp, my hand darting out, gripping onto his tusk. “It’s too much,” I moan. His mouth parts and his hips begin to rock in time with mine until inch after inch my body accepts him.
There is a small pinch about halfway down his fingers, my body opening up to him even more after the quick sting of pain. The thumb of his free hand finds and presses against my clit, the rocking of my hipsgetting faster and faster. My other hand flies to his tusk, both of my hands gripping and stroking as I move against him. My body trembles as the first waves of my orgasm slam into me.
“Steve, Steve,Steve,” I cry out. Not caring if it wakes Bellator or, for that matter, anyone else in the city. My pussy sucks his fingers in, and I clamp down on them as he eases off my clit, gently rubbing it as aftershocks continue to roll through me.
My head rolls forward as I try to catch my breath. That was extraordinary. A pleasure I never anticipated to feel so good. One that I want more of. He eases his fingers from inside me, and I whimper from the loss of him.
“Rosie, there is a red blood on my hand,” he whispers, frozen in place as he stares at the evidence of my virginity. It was to be expected at some point, but if you had told me a year ago that I’d lose it to an orc while I rode his fingers, I’d have had you committed to the nearest hospital. “I have hurt you,” he whispers so softly I barely hear him.
“It's fine, I promise. It's normal for women when they experience something like this for the first time.” His brow wrinkles. I'm not sure if he believes me, but there’s nothing to be done about it. “It won't happen again. At least I don't think it will.” I press against him, my soft breasts pushing against his firm chest. “I want more,” I whisper, giving his lips a small nip, reaching my hand between us, loosening his pants even further.Leaning back, I try to free his length, his pants still concealing half of it, when I'm manhandled and have the reach to push them down his legs.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I've not been with a human female before. I don't… I could…hurt you,” he gulps.
“I was made for you.” At least that’s what they keep telling me. I can’t deny the bond marks appearing. The pull I have toward both of them, the instant connection, is something I’ve never had and never want to be apart from. Even the idea of not being with them makes my eyes moisten. A bolt of pain jolts my heart.No. They are everything I ever asked for. I deem I’ve taken being in Hell rather well, and that’s mainly because my life back on earth was far worse than anything I’ve been exposed to here. So if the question is between what I had back in my old life or the possibility of what I can make here. There is no doubt in what path I’m picking. “I’m sure, I want you to be my first.” I tamp down any jealousy that lingered when he spoke of being with others. He already told me it is culturally appropriate to show off their manhood when wooing a female. We were meant to meet when we did; everything before that is none of my business.
