Geva’s mouth was opening and closing, though her smile felt far easier than before. “Well, given all your experience, I knew you would have valuable guidance to offer,” she said, a little defensively. “Which I’m sure you did, didn’t you? And also” — she tried for a glare back up toward him — “that doesn’t even slightly prove your point about the —seed-tainting!”
“Wrong, poppet,” Rathgarr countered, with an imperious arch of his brow. “Rosa is as though Abjorn had moulted into a small, shrill female, who is only consumed by pamphlets, rather than fighting. Whilstyou, my devious pet —”
He broke off there, grimacing, but Geva couldn’t stop grinning up at his face. “Are you telling me that I’ve already been tainted, too? And what, the longer I stay with you, the more smug and sneaky and greedy I’ll become?”
Rathgarr was looking both annoyed and amused now, but perhaps the amusement was winning out, because he barked a choked, reluctant-sounding laugh. “Just so, poppet,” he said, with a sigh. “Just so.”
But looking at his eyes, at that warmth quivering on his mouth, it occurred to Geva that he didn’t truly seem to mind. That perhaps — perhaps he just needed more time. Needed to look forward. One step at a time. Something new.
That thought again stayed with her throughout the rest of the evening, as she and Rathgarr first straightened out their clothes, and then went for a late supper in the kitchen. And then, much to Geva’s astonished delight, Rathgarr indeed led her back up to the Ash-Kai common-room, where they danced until they were both sweaty and gasping, their bodies again grinding up hard together in the deep thrumming firelight.
And this time, when Rathgarr led her to the bench, he gently but purposefully guided her down onto her knees, between his sprawled-wide legs. Kneeling, on the floor, in a room full of watching Ash-Kai, while he deliberately unfastened his belt, and drew out that rigid, swollen length, already leaking a thick bead of white.
“You are overdue for a good thick load in your belly, sweetling,” he said coolly, the words firing a shocked flare of heat to Geva’s groin. “I should not wish my clan to think I am not well feeding my mate, ach? I must make you hale and fat for me.”
Oh, gods curse him, because Geva’s tongue was already brushing her lips, even as her eyes darted uneasily around at the busy room, at the increasing feel of prickling orc gazes on her back. “Um, I don’t think I need any — help, in that department,” she stammered, which was absolutely the wrong point, most definitely. Or was it, because Rathgarr had raised a challenging eyebrow toward her, and slid his warm strong hand around the back of her neck. Drawing her closer, as he aimed that flushed, leaking head straight toward her mouth.
“You shall take as much help as I wish to give you, poppet,” he ordered, with a rather dangerous glint in his eye. “Now suck. Show them how pretty you are, with your Ash-Kai deep in your throat. Show them how well you can please me.”
And oh, he was nudging it up against her mouth, brushing that sweet silky seed against her lips. And at the first taste of it, Geva felt herself groaning, nodding, agreeing — and then hurling herself into it, perhaps harder than she ever had before. Sucking him just the way he liked, just the way he’d taught her, her mouth soft and sweet at first, her eyes on his, until she was slurping and caressing him with desperate abandon, his hands buried in her hair, his flesh jammed in her throat.
And despite her certain awareness of their watching audience, all that mattered was that look in Rathgarr’s eyes, that affection, that appreciation, that approval. Perhaps just for the other orcs’ benefit, but it felt so strangely, sharply intimate, his body buried hard and deep inside her, pulsing and flaring and leaking for her, priming itself to pump out for her. To fill her, and feed her, and fatten her for him, and —
She moaned a muffled cry as he finally surged out, bending double over her as he streamed hot plumes of seed into her throat. As he moaned, too, the sound deep and guttural and raw, his hands clutched hard to her head, holding her there for him, making sure she swallowed every last hot, succulent drop.
When he’d finished emptying himself, and Geva had carefully sucked him clean, she could scarcely seem to meet his eyes anymore, her body trembling on the floor between his knees. At least, until his warm hand slid around to her hot cheek, tilting her face back up toward him.
“Good, my pretty poppet,” he murmured. “Very, very good. You make me so proud, ach, my clever schoolmarm? You have learnt your lessons so well, that you have mayhap now gained the sweetest mouth I have ever known.”
Oh. Damn. And again, perhaps he’d just said it for the others’ benefit, to make sure they believed the charade — but that warm, affectionate approval stayed in his eyes as he drew her up onto her shaky feet, and escorted her from the room. And after a brief stop by the Skai bath, where they both quickly washed up, he guided Geva back into their bedroom, wrapped her in his fur on the bed, and plunked what appeared to be a basket of snacks into her hands.
“I have ruined your braids, I ken,” he said from behind her, a little offhandedly, as she felt a gentle tug on one damp, beaded end. “Mayhap I shall do them again, to ready you for your first day’s teaching?”
Geva was certainly not about to refuse, flashing him an eager, shy-feeling grin over her shoulder. And soon she was contentedly curled up on the bed, sampling the fruit and nuts from the basket, while Rathgarr’s gentle, deft hands combed and oiled her hair, and massaged her scalp. And this time, he put in multiple smaller braids, taking far longer than before, but there wasn’t even a thought of moving or complaining. Only sitting there, feeling his hands move, feeling the prickles of pleasure with each careful touch.
It was so easy to fall asleep after that, tucked into her usual place against his chest, his big hand spread wide over her belly. And when morning came, this time he was still there, his breath hot on her neck, his warm hand slipping down to her thigh, and pulling it up high, so his heavy pulsing hardness could slip up in between, while his fingers eased around to her front.
He took her just like that, grinding in again and again while his clever fingers circled and pressed, until Geva cried out her pleasure, and he’d surged up deep inside. And without thinking, she reached up for his head, twisting around so she could breathe him in, his soft, supple lips just a whisper away…
But then he pulled backwards, clearing his throat, his eyes darting intently away. And for an instant, there was a sudden, crashing surge of disappointment, because he still couldn’t even kiss her, after all that? Still?
But no, no, she was doing this. Something new. One step at a time.
“Will you come see me off in the schoolroom this morning?” she asked, as easily as she could. “Wish me luck surviving all those orclings?”
She could hear Rathgarr’s swallow, but then he nodded, his eyes still fixed beyond her. “You shall more than survive, poppet,” he said. “You shall have them all eating out of your pretty Ash-Kai hands by the end of the morning, you ken.”
Geva made a face at him, but it suddenly felt easy to smile again, and to turn her focus toward preparing for the day. Cleaning up in the latrine, and then dressing in the thick black shift Rathgarr handed over — no doubt, the best possible choice among them for the day, if she was continuing to forego regular dresses. And then, after stalking into the trove-room, Rathgarr reappeared with what seemed to be a large, coiled gold cuff — and then he carefully drew all her new braids back into it, clasping them together at the nape of her neck.
“To spare them from any grabby orcling fingers,” he said gruffly. “Now, are you ready?”
Geva gave a shaky-feeling nod, but as they walked up to the schoolroom together, she felt her fingernails digging into his arm, her heartbeat rising with every step. Gods, what if she had no idea what she was getting into. What if she mucked this up. What if she —
“Enough of that, poppet,” Rathgarr abruptly said, as he drew her to a halt, just down the corridor from the schoolroom. “You shall be a good and clever and patient teacher for these orclings, and they shall be blessed to have you on their side. Ach?”
Geva attempted a nod and a smile, which he returned with a sharp little growl, and a gentle slap at her arse. “You dare to question me, my sulky schoolmarm?” he demanded. “You ken this is how you shall earn more of your mate’s hungry tongue, once you are done with your day’s work?”
Oh. Geva’s face instantly heated, her breath escaping in a choked little gasp, and Rathgarr grinned as he brazenly grasped at her arse. “You will behave,” he purred at her. “You will show your Ash-Kai how good you are. Ach?”
