Since the woman and the others were at the fire, Corrin had permission to see. "Is that woman 'redress' too?" She wanted to know. She had to know.
Was that communal, fire-pit thing expected of every woman? The blonde was pulled away from the man on the ground by the one behind her, pulled onto a cock that filled her up in one unrelenting thrust. She arched and cried out encouragement. Her mouth wasn't empty for long. Another Orki came up to her, grabbed her by the back of the neck with growling words, and shoved her onto his arching, sore looking member.
Corrin gasped. It looked brutal. Untamed.
"No, my Corrin is redress. Lourann of the Peace River issuccor."
Where did he get these words? "Succor?"
He shifted his body, scooting Corrin to the side before pulling her on top of him, so that she was on an Orki bed the same as other rest times. He still wore the wrapping around his waist, but she could feel his erect cock there, arched from his body. "What is succor?" Corrin asked again.
"Lourann is succor. She help, comfort, ease of the long night," he said. Adding some Orki words, saying them carefully. "She is unique and rare. Will care for many Orki." She felt him combing through her hair, arranging it. Heard him inhale deeply, taking in her scent.
"Do all women care for many Orki?"
"Only succor. Does Corrin want succor?" The hand in her hair tightened, pulled her head up, Urku-ri's eyes on hers. In the dim light, his pupils had taken over, until the pale blue was a ring of cold fire around them. The question, innocent, his behavior at having to ask it, possessive and negative.
"Do I want to care for many Orki? Is that what she is doing now?" Free to look at them, she glanced over at the fire pit. Two of the Orki had the blonde, Lourann, between them, hands on her breasts, using her body, rocking her, pulling her, making demands. She was too far away for Corrin to clearly see her face, to catch if that was fear in her wide eyes or something else.
The scene was sensual. Corrin's constantly troubled insides clenched, watching Lourann get pulled up and down on a thick
Orki cock, her body at their mercy.
It was also disturbing. Terrifying. No. Corrin did not want to care for many. She did not want to be succor. "No," she said aloud.
Urku-ri grunted. "My Corrin." He commanded her eyes. Did that thing with his look that searched out all her hidden, vulnerable parts and touched them. "Only Urku-ri Corrin. Iniorki-ror-ness,I see you. Corrin no welcome others."
His words had a strange effect on her; taking ownership of her, giving ownership of himself. They were only for each other, and it sounded like what she had always dreamed of when her grandmother spoke of men. She pulled herself farther up his chest, the slide of skin on skin delicious. Chin down so he could see her, Urku-ri licked his lips.
The top of his tongue was black, the underside pale pink with black markings. How had she not noticed this? A tattoo? Did he have a tattoo on the bottom of his tongue? She didn't know, but the sight of it, as if he'd shown her an innermost part of himself, made her quiver with desire. She put her fingers over his mouth, finding his thin upper lip, the texture soft compared to the leather of his face, and his fuller bottom lip.
His hot breath escaped, his eyes burning.
She touched the creases of scars. Not like human flesh. Not at all. His scars looked like slashes and scratches in a rock, splits in his thick skin that hadn't bled, marking him, but not harming him. She didn't know enough about his physiology, only the strangeness, the unique masculine beauty his wounds gave him. Like claw marks down his face, there were four from forehead to chin. She placed her fingers over the ones on his bottom lip.
His mouth opened: sharp, white, predator teeth exposed. His tongue came out, licking over her fingers. Corrin shivered. Sparkles taking flight, birthing all those hummingbirds with their delicate, fast wing beats inside of her. All her female parts were awakened and sensitized by the erotic sight and feel of Urku-ri's tongue.
Not thinking, her mind lost, she lifted her dampened fingers to her mouth. His chest raised her as he sucked in a breath, eyesseeing heras she tasted him. There was something there, reminiscent of his smell, but it was not enough.
She dragged herself further up his chest, closer to his mouth. With his pronounced shape, he was not flat, but sloping, from chest to clavicle and thick bands of trapezius muscles. She braced herself on one arm, curling it around his head for balance, her breasts pillowed beneath her. Her legs fell naturally over his sides, and moons above, her center, her swollen core pressed against those ridges of his abdominals. A shudder seized her, distracted her from his mouth and tongue as this new feeling overruled all her other desires. Like the tap of his fingers, that intimate pressure, it felt so good.
So very good.
She couldn't help it, had to lift up, press down, rock herself back and forth. It wasn't enough, but it was something, a taunt and a promise. Urku-ri took her head in his hands, made her keep her eyes on his, while she moved.
Her breasts swayed, painful enough to be distracting, until his hand covered one. Fascinated by her pale skin, the shape and movement of her chest, he savored and explored. Every brush across her nipple coaxed a noise from her, until he gave one a light pinch and her whole body jerked, the tip of her breast connected to the swollen, stiff clit between her legs.
Her world tilted suddenly when Urku-ri twisted without warning her, putting her beneath him. He sat back on his haunches, removed his clothing, put his hands on her waist, and pulled her toward him. It happened fast, no slow calculation, but a determined work of intent. Corrin didn't know what was happening, but it was far too late for resistance, his body settling between her legs, his mouth licking up her thigh.
The sky above the wide smoke hole of their carved-out tree trunk camp began to drip. Rain.
"Eyes on Urku-ri, Corrin," he commanded.
He was too close. Teeth and stony power between her spread wide legs. The sluggish need to keep fighting him, keep resisting, no longer seemed worthy. Whatever was wrong with her body, it had to do with wanting this Orki. Wanting his touch.
His mouth. That great, obscene cock of his.
"I see Urku-ri," Corrin said. And then again, in clumsy Orki.
