My dick has been needing attention, so it hardens after a few strokes. My hand glides along the sensitive underside, the ridged cockhead pushing through my foreskin as it swells. Normally, I just chase my release. I don’t let my mind wander. I never fantasize. It’s just a need that has to be tended to like eating and drinking.
Fuck, this doesn’t feel nearly as good as her…squirming. I feel slightly dissatisfied as I continue to stroke my length.
It caught me by surprise the first time I had her over my knee. I enjoyed it more than I should have, even when I was hurting her. Last night was different. I was drunk. I had no real reason to punish her. I just wanted the friction. Her heat. Her scent. Reckless desires of an old fool. Thankfully, I’ve got my wits about me tonight.
I feel the pressure starting to build. As it does, I close my eyes. My mind wanders to the feel of a bare ass under my hand, the sight of a naked human girl across my lap. Wet. Needy. Her body begging for my touch, even though she doesn’t know how to. I try to force the images out of my head, but they’re persistent, just like the girl who conjured them.
Then the door begins to open.
“Damn it,” I growl, covering myself with the blanket.
I may be close, but I don’t want to deal with her seeing what I’m doing. She’ll get the wrong idea. Probably offer tohelp, which is the last fucking thing I want.
I’m covered when she steps into the room, wearing one of the nightgowns Lady Frax’mo sent. It’s sheer pink silk, the fabric barely thick enough to hide her nipples. The hem barely covers her pussy. The sight makes my dick twitch under the covers, which just makes me angry, because I’m already having enough trouble keeping my mind from wandering.
“You know where you sleep,” I reach over and turn out the lights.
“No spanking tonight?” she asks, her voice soft in the darkness.
There’s disappointment in that voice, faint but unmistakable. I hate that I notice.
“No,” I snap, rolling over, my dick still hard.
I listen as she makes her way to the pile of fur at the foot of my bed. That’s her place and that’s where she needs to stay. Never in my bed. As far away from my thoughts as I can get her, especially when I need relief.
But it’s too late. I didn’t finish and now I’m not in the mood.
I guess this is going to be one night an orc doesn’t finish what he started.
CHAPTER 16
Clover
King Lix’tuk has been busy most of the day, so I’ve had to find ways to entertain myself.
Not that it’s difficult to find something to do in this fortress. I’ve spent most of my day failing to learn orcish, and now I’m reading a fiction book about holidays. Apparently, before The Great War, there were a lot of human holidays. We don’t celebrate any of them anymore.
“Christmas sounds awesome,” I say, reading about Santa Claus, presents, and trees filled with lights. “We would never have been able to afford a holiday like that in Troona, though.”
After I finish my book, my mind flashes to last night. I’m not sure what I almost walked in on, exactly, but King Lix’tuk didn’t seem happy to see me. His covers were tented by the same thing I squirmed against. Ithinkhe was touching himself like I used to when I was alone in the barn loft back home.
But if that’s the case, I don’t know why he didn’t finish. Surely, he didn’t stop on my account. He’s touched me twice. He’s made me climax both times. If he needed that kind of relief, I would have helped. I would have squirmed against him if he wanted me to. I would have even touched him if he could stand being touched by afilthy human, as he calls us.
He was grumpier than usual during breakfast, even after he’d had coffee. He wasn’t in a good mood at lunch, either. I’ve gotten used to his normal demeanor, but it seemed like he was more frustrated. Annoyed. I hope I’m not the cause of it. Not that I can do anything about it if I am. I’m his gift, whether he wants me or not.
I’m flipping through another book about orcish history and language when the door opens. King Lix’tuk doesn’t step into the library. He just glares at me from the doorway.
“Dinner time?” I ask.
He gives me one word, “Yes,” then he turns away immediately.
He’s still in a foul mood. I leave the library, and he’s already in the dining hall, so I prepare dinner. Once the Reviver is finished, I bring the plates to the table.
“What would you like to drink?” I ask.
“Grog.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” I say.
