She hoped someday he wouldn't mind making jokes about people having sex in front of her. Two consensual people who loved each other were not going to trigger a bad memory for her.
So she nodded gravely and replied, "He doesn't have much of an ass. I would not be surprised if the sight was rather frog-like."
Gunnar’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked at her owlishly before howling with laughter that was so loud, someone pounded on their door as they walked past. And still, Gunnar didn't stop laughing. He came toward her, giggling as if she had told him the funniest joke before gathering her up in his arms and falling backward onto the bed.
Gravity took them, and she had the strange sensation of floating for a moment. She quite liked that. Maybe there were other ways to experience falling while still being safe. He did tell her they were going to adventure for the rest of their lives after all.
She landed on his chest with a soft "oof", and then propped herself up. Her hands against the vivid green of his skin would never stop startling her. She flexed her fingers, so pale and strange against his skin that seemed more normal to her than her own. The candlelight in the room illuminated his features,casting the shadows of his jaw and tusks into even more visible differences that should have terrified her.
They didn't. Not in the slightest.
He quieted, content to look up at her as she stared down at him, and she realized this was her bridal suite. A moment in time that she would never forget.
"When I was a little girl, I used to dream about what my wedding night would be like," she whispered. "Who my groom would be. Would he be gentle and kind, or would he be fierce and take what he wanted?"
Gunnar traced a claw over her cheek. "I would have hoped that your husband would be kind and soft. A woman's first time is always difficult, and it's his job to make sure it isn't."
"How did you know humans are virgins when they get married?"
"It's a rather important detail most trolls know. We're horrified by it, if you were wondering. No one should enter a marriage as a virgin." He made a face. "How would you know what you like? What the other person might like? I cannot imagine bonding with my troll wife and then fumbling around in the dark, hoping I was touching what I thought I was touching. How embarrassing."
And just like that, he reassured her that she wasn't some damaged, tainted thing that no one would want. Whatever worries or fears might have popped up disappeared. In an instant.
Because he knew what she needed far sooner than she did.
As she reached for the hem of her skirt, Gunnar stopped her. His hands gripped hers, gently, always so gently. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to. Just because it is expected by some does not mean I expect it. If you want to sleep, troll wife, we will sleep."
She curled her hands a little more firmly in her skirts. "And if I don't want to sleep?"
Fire burned in him. She could see the hunger in his gaze and in the way he looked her up and down. "Then I am your servant, fair lady. Allow me to service you in whatever way you wish."
She pulled the dress up and over her head, along with the nightgown that was still underneath it. Bare instantly, she sat astride him and felt him hardening between her legs. He really was impressively large, but she still wasn't afraid of that. Not yet, at least.
Arching down, she pressed her lips to his and willed him to take control. Which he did, because of course, he did. Gunnar hadn't ever been good at holding himself back from her, and that was the best part of him.
His lips devoured hers, chasing kisses from her when she pulled back, as though he was begging her for a moment longer. He drank from her deeply, all the while groaning in the back of his throat.
Claws flexed against her thighs. Tiny pricks of pain that reminded her in every instant that he was very much not human. He was her troll. Her husband. Everything that she had ever wanted.
And when he ground up against her, that hard bar of his cock pressing against her clit in a sinful way, she felt her body tensing. Felt her entire form bracing for the pain that she knew would come.
But all she had to do was open her eyes. Green skin. Vivid, bright green skin that was spread over miles of muscle. No pale, sweaty flesh. No grasping hands that made her hurt, only Gunnar, panting beneath her as she sat up straight.
"Please," he begged. "Please let me taste you again."
Who was she to deny him when he'd been so good at it the first time?
His hands helped her move, dragging her over his face again. But this time, she had the headboard to hold on to as his tongue swirled around her clit. She gripped the wood hard as she gasped, grinding down on his features in a way that only made him groan even more. He’d said to sit on his face, and she damn well was going to.
Tusks pressed her thighs open even further, the burn feeling so good as he chased her orgasm. Licking, sucking, even gently biting in a way that had her gasping and squirming.
"Fuck," he groaned against her skin. "You taste so sweet."
She stared down between her legs, seeing the wild tangle of his hair that he always kept so brushed, and the way his flashing eyes looked up at her with so much hunger. She knew that he would do this for hours. He enjoyed himself while he was doing this.
Gods, he'd come just from eating her out.
And that was the thought that chased her over the edge. The memory of him groaning into her flesh as he’d come all over her back. Just because he'd given her pleasure.
