His hand sharp on her bottom. So big he covered both cheeks.
"Twenty-two."
"Good girl. Say next." He twisted her hips to the side, moving her to change the angle, so that this time she got the flat of his hand down the middle, and his fingers curving between her legs.
"Moons." She moaned. "No. Please don't." It hurt and heated at the same time. She didn't want his hand there.
"Count," he demanded.
"Twenty-three."
Again, in the same position. And each time after that. She counted fast, wanting it over. The first twenty had been all pain and frustration, but this new angle played on the swollen dissatisfaction of the night. She hadn't noticed until he touched her, until the sensation of his hand coming down awoke every tender nerve-ending, until he caught the gathered wetness and used it against her.
At the end, he made that comforting noise as his hands smoothed over her. Long, mesmerizing strokes. Unerringly, he found all the sore spots on her shoulders, the joints where her arms met them, down her back and over every protesting sore area. He pulled something from his saddle, put it on his hands and rubbed oily stuff over her. It smelled of lavender. Going on surprisingly cold, she hissed. In normal circumstances, Corrin knew she'd be protesting like a demon, but nothing about the day was normal. Then the oil warmed. She relaxed her bottom into the sensation when he sat her up and cradled her across his lap once more.
A limp, drained thing in his lap, he untied her wrists and legs. She should be feeling angry and resentful now. Hateful. But instead, she leaned her head into the area between his arm and shoulder, her cheek against his hot skin, her nose full of his scent. Grateful for the support of his body.
After a while, he spoke. "Not for Corrin. Not know Orki. Orki no hit," he said in her ear. This, after he'd just spanked her with more than thirty painful swats. "Orki no lay with child.
Huumon male lay with child. Child is Kor-Ur redress."
She turned her face in against the skin of his chest.
Feeling ashamed, guilty, and horrified.
Pulling her hair over her blanket and fur covering, he combed through it. "Corrin, mind self." He told her. Corrin's braid had come to nothing with the trip over his lap. Short, black-tipped claws made quick work of the snarls. The nail beds looked strange, different from her own. His claws were retractable. This was why his touches on her cheek or lips never hurt. She'd been too caught up in his gaze before to notice.
They rode through the night, stopping only once. The Orki all got down off their war mounts, pulled out the bowls they used for washing, and watered the beasts. A shallow trench was dug and everyone relieved themselves in it. The women riding with an Orki went at the same time as the rider. No one was left alone for a moment. Males came to her dark-skinned rider, the one with the ear piercings, and two others talked with him in a deferential, respectful manner before going back to their beasts. He and she were the last to use the trench. He made her wait while he used someone's spade to fill and cover it.
How could he be a leader if he was the one covering the waste of the others?
Mounted again, wrapped in the wool blanket and the fur, wearing only her boots and stockings, she surveyed the landscape. Different from the river lands, with different trees and plants, and many more rocks. It was as if a mountain of stone came under the pressure of a giant hammer, crushing the rocky heights to pieces and scattering it over the Orki territories. It would be a terrible place for farming. The night made odd shapes of everything, the wolfen animal she sat on moving too fast to make out many details. For all she knew, those rocks could be the remains of towns.
She heard things now and then. A bellow from some creature she hoped was far off, screeches and calls from hunting night birds, the click of seed pods dangling from overhead branches. The Orki band themselves made almost no sound; they were like the wind, steady and strong, swishing through the branches or tall grasses.
"This is all Orki peace land?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Where are you taking me? Where do you live?" Miles were eaten up under the long strides of the war beast's legs. Endless miles in a dangerous territory where humans were known to be killed on sight.
"Go to Homeland," he said.
"Homeland, is that a town, a village?" Corrin asked, struggling to understand.
"No. Nothuumon."
"What is homeland?"
"Nohuumonword." He paused, thinking. "Where many brothers live, place of rest, joy, family."
He was taking her to a place of joy, rest, family. Not murder, rape, mayhem. That was good news. However, it depended on whose joy he was describing. It couldn't be hers. The Orki males put their own wishes first. He wanted her washed, she washed. He wanted her naked, she was naked. She was at the mercy of the beast. Not something conducive to baskets full of rest and joy on her part. "Are there others like you there? Other
Orki?"
"Yes, many other."
"How many others? Will there be many where you are taking me?"
