Gods, he was such a vile snake, andwhywas Geva’s mouth watering like this, damn it — and now the great bastard had gone and slipped his big hand up to the side of her arse, giving it a blatant, too-familiar squeeze through the thin fabric of her shift.
“Or, mayhap,” he purred in her ear, “when you swallow my good full load uphere. Tomorrow, mayhap?”
Geva twitched all over, and jabbed back at his infuriating bulk with a sharp elbow. “You are such a vulgar arrogantlecher,” she hissed at him. “Such a greedy, overbearing, ungrateful —”
But without warning, the lecher’s huge hand gently clapped over her mouth, and his chuckle behind her was low, maybe even indulgent. “Settle yourself, my prickly poppet,” he drawled. “Should you agree to this, I shall make it as easy for you as I can, ach? As I did our first time with your mouth.”
That wasnoteven slightly comforting, and Geva elbowed him again — but he still didn’t seem to take any notice, and just settled a little closer behind her. “And after this, mayhap you shall have only praise and worship for me,” he mumbled, “and when we reach Orc Mountain the next day, all my kin shall see this, and believe it as truth.”
Right. Orc Mountain. In two days. And blinking out into the room’s darkness, it occurred to Geva that — despite everything, despitehim— she’d almost been… growing accustomed to it. That compared to her tedious, grating life at the Fitzwalds, this whole orc-induced adventure had been surprising, and stimulating, and sometimes even…enjoyable?
“Do you really think the orcs there will believe it?” she asked, over that disconcerting thought. “They won’t suspect that we’re pretending?”
Rathgarr yawned again behind her, his fingers stretching wider against her belly. “Not once you fully scent of me,” he said drowsily. “Now sleep.”
And perhaps Geva should have argued, but she did feel strangely relaxed, and warm, and there was something inexplicably soothing about Rathgarr’s big body behind her like this, his heavy arm slung over her waist. So after a massive yawn of her own, she curled a little closer, and sank into the warm quiet darkness.
15
Geva awoke to the feel of warm sunlight across her face, a warm heavy arm over her waist… and a long, distinctive warm ridge, prodding hard and hungry between her arse-cheeks.
Her eyes snapped open, blinking at the room’s wood-panelled wall, while her body jerked a strange, reflexive shiver. The movement settling her closer against that inexorable pressing ridge, making it swell back against her. And even through the fabric of her shift, it felt far too powerful, tooalive, too…
“You like it, poppet?” came Rathgarr’s lazy voice, close in her ear. “Like to feel a little more of it, mayhap?”
Geva was not replying to that, she wasnot— but she’d shivered again, her breaths too audible in the silence. And behind her, Rathgarr huffed a low, satisfied laugh, as he gave a slow, purposeful roll of his hips, grinding that pulsing length even deeper between her arse-cheeks. As if it wanted to be tucked in there, caught, sunk as deep as it could go…
“See?” said his husky voice from behind her. “It shall not be such a hardship to earn your coins, ach?”
Her coins. Geva froze all over, full wakefulness finally flaring through her body — and before she realized it, she’d tumbled out of the bed, and halfway across the room. Well away from that voice, that warmth, that…temptation.
“I meant this, when I said I shall make it easy,” Rathgarr’s voice continued, and when Geva darted a furtive glance over her shoulder, he was still lying there languidly on the bed, one hand propping up his head, the other blatantly adjusting the highly visible tent in his trousers. “Our early seed is a great help in this, and as I said, I only need to do this long enough to scent you. And” — his voice hitched lower — “you are not new to this either, are you?”
Geva blanched, and purposefully whirled away from him, yanking off her shift. New to thiseither, he’d said, suggesting that he’d clearly done this before. And of course he had, if he was so adamantly against having children, right? And even worse — she grimaced as she began to dress — how had he knownshewasn’t new to this? Her damned smell again, no doubt?
“I can scent this upon you,” Rathgarr supplied, as if she’d spoken her question aloud. “But only one man, ach?”
Geva couldn’t suppress another grimace, because yes, yet again, this devious orc had the right of it. And that particular man had pushed and wheedled and rushed, to the point where she’d sworn never to do it again, but —
“Not good then, poppet?” came Rathgarr’s too-perceptive voice behind her, now tinged with contempt. “More fool him.Ishould never leave a bedmate regretting our pleasure together.”
It was thankfully enough to twist Geva’s head around, glaring at where Rathgarr was flashing her a smug, ingratiating smile. “Oh really?” she demanded. “I regret you deeply, orc.Deeply!”
But he only kept grinning as he shoved out of bed and strode past her, giving her arse a firm little slap on the way by. And then — Geva’s mouth fell open — he halted before the chamber-pot, and promptly began relieving himself into it.
Geva huffed an affronted gasp, even as she desperately fought to ignore her lips’ reflexive twitch upwards. “You are theworst,” she continued toward his back, though there wasn’t nearly enough heat in her voice. “You are an ill-nurtured, outrageous, utterly insufferableingrate!”
She winced at the sound of the insults escaping her mouth, at the memory of him truly being insulted in return — but this time, he barked an amused-sounding laugh as he shook himself off, and tugged up his trousers again.
“Ach, natter all you wish, my silver-tongued schoolmarm,” he drawled at her, coming a step closer. “Or mayhap” — he waggled his eyebrows, and reached into his pocket — “this shall suffice to quiet you?”
He tucked something into Geva’s slack hand, and her heart skipped a beat as she blinked down toward it. It was… a ten-piece coin. The equivalent of ten coins.Weeksof survival, of life, of freedom. Just… here? Just like that?
“But,” she managed, “this is more — far more — than we — agreed on. And we haven’t even —”
She couldn’t seem to finish, still blinking down at that shiny coin in her fingers, and before her, Rathgarr cleared his throat, and gave a dismissive-looking shrug. “Ach, I ken you have earned it,” he said gruffly. “For…good performance.”
That last bit was in her accent, her words, and Geva found herself swallowing, and meeting his eyes. Catching on how their mockery had faded, in favour of something almost… earnest.
