Oh, how did he keep doing this, Geva’s frantic heat gripping at the hard prodding end of him, now jutted just slightly into her slick soft wetness. And when another slap stung at her arse, rang through the roiling craving, she cried out, her back arching, her body fighting to sink deep, to swallow him whole…
“I missed you all day, Rathgarr,” she gasped at him, between her strangled breaths. “Needed your touch and your taking. Needed you to claim me, and make mereekof you.”
And yes, that low hissing growl was just what she wanted, what she craved, that stunning hardness sinking just a little deeper, back where it belonged. “Need you to take me like this,” she breathed. “Need you to tend me, plough me, make me yours. In the room of your enemy.”
Rathgarr’s groan hissed deeper, rumbling harsh and low, and he slammed the rest of the way inside, filling her with his hot hard strength, making her shake all over. “Because he’s gone, but you’re — still here,” she gasped, as he drew out, and slammed in again. “Making this room — ours. Making — a new way.”
Rathgarr was taking her in earnest now, hammering in again and again, and Geva needed it so much, needed to gulp it down and drown in it. He wanted her, he wanted to make her his, to stake his claim and scent this entire room of them and —
And oh, he was already grinding in and surging out, his invading heft thrumming and shuddering as it sprayed his seed deep, pouring her thick and messy and full. As he marked her, claimed her, here — and suddenly that felt strangely, impossibly meaningful, almost like an indulgence, a gift. Acknowledging her efforts, her full day’s work, and rewarding her, by filling her with his sweet fresh scent, by claiming this room, making it theirs.
“Thank you,” she breathed, before she could possibly stop it, as she kept arching for him, drinking him, milking out everything he would give her. As she could finally feel him slowing, settling, softening again. “You’re such a good Ash-Kai. So good to me.”
She didn’t think she imagined his hard, choked gasp, the brief flaring shudder of that heat still inside her — until he swiftly, suddenly drew out. Leaving her gaping, empty, untouched, the wetness already beginning to spill, but for…
“Ohhhh,” Geva moaned, because oh, oh, something else was there instead. Something slick and soft and glorious, pressing warm and sweet against her wet dripping heat. Something… new. Rathgarr’smouth.
She again shuddered all over, so fierce she nearly lost her balance, because, oh, sweet gods, he’d fallen to his knees on the floor behind her, so he could tilt his head up, press his hot, open mouth up against her shivering, leaking crease. So she could pour out his own mess back into his mouth, feeding him with his own gushing seed, oh this wasn’t actually happening, it wasn’t —
But it was, damn him, it was, his glorious tongue even slipping up into her slick spurting heat, as if he was licking it, welcoming it, sucking it out of her. And she could hear him swallowing, could hear the lurid slick sounds this was making, as if he was feasting upon her, making their fresh rich scents his own…
Geva’s release flashed sudden and shocking, trampling over her in throb after throb. And oh hell, Rathgarr actually chuckled as he kept licking, kept swallowing, kept moving that tongue just the way she needed it, until the impossible wheeling pleasure slowly faded, into the quiet sweetness of his open, softly seeking kiss.
“Do you have any more for me, poppet?” he breathed, between gentle swipes of his tongue, making Geva instantly clamp upon it — but yes, yes, there was more, oozing out from inside her, into his warm, waiting mouth. And then a little more, and a little more, squeezing from her in hard dizzying pulses, until nothing more would come, and she was finally, fully empty.
She waited, still gasping, revelling in every surreal instant, as she felt him gently licking her clean. Until he gave her one last kiss, and then drew away, and pulled her shift down again.
Geva hauled in one more deep, shaky breath — and then, without thinking, she furiously flailed around to find him. To clutch at him, to put her hands to his stunning, watching face, to see the light and the amusement shifting like that in his eyes.
“What in the — sweet — shrieking —gods—” she stammered, but it wasn’t even making sense, and in return Rathgarr laughed, and blatantly licked at his wet, shiny face with his long black tongue. Making her groan again at just the sight of it, her vision spinning hard enough that she had to fall back onto the table, and draw in great gulping gasps through her mouth. Damn him.Blesshim.
Rathgarr was still laughing, the sound husky and approving, and in a sudden movement, he dropped himself onto his back on the table beside her. Making it creak slightly beneath his weight, but thankfully it seemed sturdy enough to hold them both — though in this moment, Geva would not have cared if it completely collapsed beneath them.
“That was —” she began, but words had utterly failed her again, her trembling hands dragging at her hot face. “Gods. Th-thank you.”
Rathgarr laughed again, and gave her elbow a companionable-feeling bump with his. “I did not wish to spill any seed in your pretty new schoolroom,” he replied lightly. “Kesst was right, this should be in very poor taste.”
Geva could only reply with a laughing groan, a shake of her head on the hard wood, as Rathgarr gave her elbow another little bump. “This room is good work, poppet,” he said, sounding suddenly almost serious. “I am… amazed, in truth, that Grimarr should allow the Ash-Kai throne room to be overrun by orclings.”
The Ash-Kai throne room? Geva opened one eye to look at Rathgarr, whose head was tilted, looking back toward her. His forehead furrowed, as if he was genuinely confused by this.
“Well, as far as I’ve been able to tell, Grimarr hated his father, and everything he stood for,” Geva replied, her voice somewhat steadier than before. “Did you know he actuallykilledhim? And Kesst said Grimarr’s refused to step into this room ever since. He thought it would be fitting, to make this into a schoolroom, and a place of joy.”
Rathgarr didn’t reply to that, his mouth pursing, and Geva took another slow, bracing breath. “I really don’t think Grimarr is your enemy, Rathgarr,” she said. “Kesst seems to care about him very deeply. And” — she pulled in another breath — “today, Kesst again made it very,veryclear that he doesn’t want any vengeance, against anyone, ever. Not against the Skai, or even Ulfarr. He said the Skai have actually beenhelpingto clean things up around here, these past few years. He said that any orc he wants dead is already dead.”
Rathgarr still hadn’t spoken, his eyes now intent on the stone ceiling above them, his jaw very tight. Clearly not wanting to talk about this, and Geva exhaled a heavy, resigned sigh, her body tilting toward him on the table, her hand snaking over his waist. Another way.
“Also, Kesst would like you to ask him out for a meal tomorrow,” she said, as lightly as she could. “And a shopping trip. Which I didn’t realize was possible here, but then I saw the Grisk storage-room! That place is bigger than any shop I’ve ever seen in mylife.”
At her mention of Kesst’s invitation, Rathgarr instantly jerked to stiffness — but then he slowly softened again beneath her gently stroking touch. “Ach, I have heard about this new Grisk hoard,” he said. “But” — his eyes narrowed at her — “they would not freely give their goods away, so how didyoushop there? You did not spend your coin on this?! I thought you meant to save this for the sea.”
His voice had gone very sharp, and Geva reflexively flinched, her eyes focusing back on the stone ceiling, the firelight still flickering upon it. “No, I didn’t spend anything,” she said thinly. “Jule gave us a very generous allowance of trading-credits for all this. On top of the salary she’s offered, too.”
There was a brief silence from Rathgarr, and then a strange-sounding harrumph. “Ach, this woman seeks to curry your favour with gifts and flattery, I ken,” he said. “This is a long-standing Ash-Kai scheme, ach? It is clear that she has been sharing Grimarr’s bed for too long, and has been well tainted by his seed.”
Geva bit back her groan — gods, had he not heardanythingshe’d just said about Grimarr? — But she made herself focus on the second part of that statement, fighting to keep her voice light. “You don’t actually think women can betaintedby orcs’ seed, do you?” she asked, attempting an incredulous smile toward him. “And what, then they take on all their orcs’ worst tendencies?”
“Ach, indeed,” Rathgarr replied grimly, though his mouth was curling up again, too. “Have you not met that Skai woman, Maria? Or that Grisk, Ella. Or” — his eyes glinted, and he propped himself up onto his elbow to peer down at Geva’s face — “this Ka-esh chit Rosa. She cornered me today down in the Ka-esh wing, and would not leave me be until I had read a dozen of those pamphlets, and told her all I had ever thought upon them! And then she claimed this was uponyouradvice, poppet!”
