“That isn’t necessary,” he growls, leaning over and turning out the lights. “Go to sleep.”
I’m so exhausted that sleep should come easy, but I’m tingling so much that I find it difficult once he goes to bed. It sounds like he might be having difficulty too. I listen to him toss and turn a few times while I come down from the high of many multiple orgasms.
I keep waiting for him to call for me. For him to admit he wants me to touch him. Or just order me to. I don’t mind. But it doesn’t happen. After nearly an hour, I finally hear him snoring.
After everything he did to me, he still won’t let me do anything for him.
I guess this won’t be one of the nights he allows me to touch him.
CHAPTER 19
Clover
I’m asleep on a mountain of fur, dreaming about doing more than just tasting King Lix’tuk’s seed, when he nudges me awake with the edge of his boot.
“Get up,” he commands. “Go make breakfast.”
“Okay,” I sigh, wiping my eyes.
He walks out of the room like he didn’t make me come on his tongue over and over before we went to sleep. My body isstilltingling. I’m still damp between my legs. I’m not desperate the way I was yesterday. My dream may have more to do with it than what happened last night. But I still wish he’d at least acknowledge we didn’t turn out the lights and go to sleep like strangers.
I guess it didn’t mean anything to him. He was dealing with a problem. His tongue was nothing but a merciful way of making me come because I was stupid enough to taste his seed. He saidI taste like the salt of the earth he ruined. I guess even the way I taste reminds him of all the reasons he hates humans.
I walk to the kitchen and start making blackroot coffee. Black sludge for him. Milky brown sludge for me. I still can’t drink much of it, but I’ve come to enjoy starting my day with a boost of energy. I just wish I had more to do with it than wander around Zrogmul and read books in the library.
He’s waiting at the table. He doesn’t say anything when I put down our coffees, nor does he say anything when I return with our breakfast. He starts eating as soon as I put his fork down, and I place my fire bread next to his piece. He doesn’t acknowledge that either.
I’m used to silent meals with him. He’s an orc of few words when he wants to be. I guess he’s used to the silence. I’m the one who has invaded his sanctuary. Not that I had a say in it. I’m just a gift.
“Food will be delivered today,” he growls, sipping his coffee. “Cleaners will be here, too. You will have to find somewhere to entertain yourself other than the library while they’re in there.”
“Oh, you’re having guests?” I ask, my eyes widening a little.
I’m not sure whether I should be excited or terrified.
“Not guests. Just orcs I have to tolerate. I’ll be in my throne room or my office while they’re here. They know not to disturb me,” he sounds dismissive of the lot of us.
“Okay, I’ll stay out of their way,” I acquiesce, eating a bite of cheesy eggs.
He’s the king. If he doesn’t want to greet his visitors, then he doesn’t have to. Just like he can sit here in silence, eating hisbreakfast, without ever mentioning what happened last night. He did things to me that should have my face as red as my backside was last night, but I guess it’s just another day for him.
Once he’s done with his meal, including my piece of fire bread, he downs the rest of his bitter blackroot brew and stands up. I watch until he gets to the door, and while I know I should just keep my mouth shut, the words come out anyway.
“I really enjoyed what you did last night,” I say apprehensively, my voice low. “I would have also enjoyed making sure you went to sleep feeling the same way I did.”
“Why? So you could lick your fingers again when you were done, like a naughty little human girl who needs to be told to keep her tongue in her mouth?” he retorts. “Force me to spend another night tasting your salty sweetness?”
“I can’tforceyou to do anything, King Lix’tuk,” I sigh, looking down at my plate. “But I’d like to be… useful to you.”
“You revive my food and put it on the table,” he returns. “You’re useful.”
That stings. More than the Reparations Penalty. It might as well have been the crack of a whip, just somewhere that doesn’t show scars like my skin.
“You know what I meant,” I say meekly. “I’m going to be here with you for the rest of my life. Possibly the rest of yours. Unless you send me away. I mean, I know you can… even if I was a gift…” My words trail off, a tear gathering in the corner of my left eye. I blink it away.
“I have no intentions of sending you away,” he says quietly, still facing the door, one step away from it opening. An orc-sizedstep, at least. “If you need to feel useful, fine. Tonight, when we go to bed, you can touch me.”
It’s such a strange thing to feel grateful for. Like a tiny crack in the orc king’s armor, just enough for me to feel safer. He doesn’t plan on sending me away anytime soon. And he’ll let me touch him. Just so I’ll feeluseful. But there’s more to it than that. There has to be.
