She felt his other arm move, bend, as he took a handful of her breast into his wide palm. Dry, rough callouses brushed over the stiffened tip. Below her bottom, against her thigh, thick and wide and damp with his own secretions, his manhood. An iron bar, a tree branch, a pole. She didn't know what to call it other than too massive to ever do to her the thing that was happening to the blonde. She wanted to weep for relief, knowing she would never be able to join with the monster who held her in his arms. She wanted to weep for the loss of it.
He liked her curls. He gently tugged there, making her gasp. Reminding her that he was a dangerous creature and she had no defense against him. A single finger, unerring, found the bundle of stiffened need at the top of her slit and began to tap. "This, my Corrin?" he asked.
Tap, tap, tap, in quick repetition.
Her hips moved, wanton and begging. Yes. This. How did he know? This is what she needed.
A beat, a steady, even rhythm against her secret flesh. Tap. Tap. Tap. The hand at her chest, cupping the fullness he found there, moved back and forth over the very crest of her breast at the same time. A light, delicate touch that found a pulsing echo hidden inside her center. Hummingbird wings, tormenting her.
Then the tap changed to light, rubbing circles. "Or this, my Corrin?"
She couldn't speak. It all felt so good. Surrounded by an impenetrable wall of masculine strength that wanted her, desired her, touched her, her body sang in joy. He wanted her to choose?
Both were perfect. Anything he did was perfect.
More liquid readiness leaked out of her, an appalling amount. Had she started her cycle? Was that what this was about? Two weeks early? His finger moved through it, alternating taps and circles since she couldn't decide.
Corrin had never touched herself. Nanny had told her that if she lit that fire too early, she may have trouble putting it out, and since she believed everything the older, experienced woman told her, she avoided prolonging touches to her female areas for fear of liking it too much. She did. She liked it too much. She was a slave to the gentle pressure; her hips bucking, jerking uncontrollably, chasing it and escaping it at the same time.
While he petted her, Urku-ri had his mouth on her neck. She felt a tongue and teeth and lips as he encouraged her. "Good girl, Corrin. My good girl, Corrin. My own, redress." His voice, once harsh, now a musical rasp in her ears. His use of the common language was followed by the harsh, throaty sounds of his own. His mouth found the space behind her ear. He kissed her there. Taking her lower earlobe between his sharp predator teeth, beastly and dangerous, he nipped her there.
"Moons!" she cried out. Turning her head against the thick weighted curve of his bicep, her mouth open on his skin. Her own teeth clamped down as something happened. Her body pushed to sensation and delight, lit up like a torch in the night.
It was too much. Muscles tightened, and she curled inward, clawing at his hand to pull it away. Instead he pushed down, deeper, one finger slipping easily through the swollen, slickened flesh, dipping into the hidden channel past her vulva.
The invasion brought that pinnacle again. Filled. She was filled. All she could do was make a choked series of gasps while her female tunnel pulsed hard around the invader.
Teeth scraping against the tendons on her neck, he spoke in Orki, long, growling sentences of words she couldn't understand.
He stayed locked around her for several minutes, a finger inside of her, and arm over her chest, his teeth on her neck. She had one arm bent up and around his head, while the other reached down to cover the palm between her legs. It took Corrin a moment to catch her breath, to come back to earth, to ascertain the situation.
Her emotions immediately went haywire. "What have I done? What is wrong with me?" she asked aloud, trying to pull away.
"Is natural," said the Orki. He wouldn't let her go. Instead, he removed the hand between her legs with his set on hers and tasted the dew he found there.
"Moons, don't. Don't," she whispered.
Of course, because she had no luck, and nothing ever went right or well for her, he did it again, holding her chin so that she had to watch him lick it all away. "Corrin, bring her sweet cunt to mouth so I can."
"No!" burst from her lips, her hand closing over his mouth.
His eyes did that thing where she knew he was grinning at her. She grabbed at his wrist, and his thick, wide, black tongue flicked out to lick her clean as well.
Corrin's insides squeezed tight. She should not like that.
She should not.
This one time, amazingly, he did not force his will on her. He twisted a bit, removed the soiled leather and fur cloth he'd been wearing, and settled her over him again. His big cock was thick and obvious. Unable to look at it, terrified of it, Corrin felt it just there. He made that deep, coughing noise, amused with her. Without asking, he positioned her so that as she rested on her stomach, his big cock lay cushioned against her breasts.
So intimate. She should hate that he made her do that. He told her to sleep. She brushed her nose against his belly button and went to sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
NOT FOR CORRIN
They slept through the day, traveled at night. She was seated between his legs instead of across them. Urku-ri talked more to her. Naming sights along the trail in his language. She tried to mimic the sounds, shaping them in the back of the throat.
He encouraged her with a "Good girl." Crystal eyes narrowing, and his cheeks hollowed with a twist of his lips in that way that let her know he was grinning at her attempts. For all that he spoke the common language simply, Orki was not a simple language. Complex and exact, Corrin thought there was a unique word and sound for everything. Every word had a different inflection. Odd combinations of guttural throat sounds, hums and grunts, and sharp consonants. The way he kept repeating things made her think she couldn't hear some of the sounds he made that caused the war beast's ears to flick back and forth.
