18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

M ara

In those old-fashioned movies, didn’t they sometimes euphemistically call sex “a trip to heaven?” Yes, they did. And I used to roll my eyes at that. Mea culpa . I was wrong. If that wasn’t a trip to heaven, I don’t know what is.

And later, if my big orc wants me to juggle flaming potatoes, I’ll give it a try, no questions asked. Because I trust him with my life.

He slides up the bed and nuzzles my neck as he breathes in my scent as though it’s more important than food or water.

“That was amazing. I loved it.” I probably don’t need to tell him that, but I’m not the only one in this room who enjoys praise. Lord knows he deserves it for the pleasure he just gave me, and for so much more.

“I loved it too.”

I cup his cheeks in my palms and find the energy to lurch closer to plant a dozen kisses all over his handsome face.

“Oh, did I mention I’m on the pill?”

“I believe I heard a rumor to that effect.”

“Should we…”

“You’re ready again? This soon?”

“Human women, baby. Sometimes I need no waiting period at all. Like right now .”

He rearranges us like I weigh no more than a doll—I love that—so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headboard and I’m straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips.

After dipping his head to mouth one of my nipples, then the other, he says, “Just couldn’t control my urge.” He punctuates his statement with a nonchalant shrug.

Gripping one ass cheek in each hand, he lines us up perfectly, situating me with my core directly above his cockhead. All his orcish dominance disappears as he gazes into my eyes, leans to brush my lips with the tenderest kiss, then murmurs, “I love you, Mara. It’s soon, I know, but never doubt it.” With his palm, he smooths my hair off my face.

“Take your time, Mara. I’m all yours.” There’s that piratical smile again. If I didn’t love him already, I think that half-smirk-half-love-drunk expression would tip me over the edge.

I grip the slabs of his muscular shoulders and ease onto the tip of his blunt cock. The tremulous moan that escapes my lips surprises me. The emotion of this first breech is heady, overwhelming.

“Krull.”

I control the urge to close my eyes, forcing myself to keep our gazes connected. Where did the forceful orc of yesterday go? The male who ordered me around, edged me, and told me he was fully in control? He’s been replaced by an indulgent, besotted male who’s allowing me to take this at my pace. My heart is so full it’s about to burst, filling the room with little, red cartoon hearts.

I ease up and down, feeling the stretch as I conquer his cock, inch by inch. I’m trembling from the depth of emotion, but as I get closer to having all that thick, green cock inside me, my tender emotions take a back seat. Powerful arousal is swirling and ramping and growing as the urge to move takes center stage in my lust-addled mind.

When I bottom out, our gazes still connected with awe and wonder, I realize I want my dominant orc back. Perhaps he’s waiting for a sign. I’ve no need to be subtle.

“Fuck me.”

That was all the invitation he needed. From one second to the next, he flips us. I’m on my back, and he’s thrusting into me. Slow and thorough. All the way in and all the way out again. Every time he bottoms out, he rewards me with a satisfied grunt, his lips pulling back to expose his ivory tusks .

The pace is languid and delicious as our connection grows. I feel all his length, all his girth, and those thick veins I noticed when I was sucking him. A never-ending string of praises fall from his lips.

“Perfect. So good. Mara, so tight! Nothing… has ever felt this good.”

Suddenly, the sweet lovemaking, the way we’re discovering each other’s bodies and enjoying the slow ride, isn’t enough. I move my hands from where they’ve been lodged on his thick shoulders, grip one ass cheek in each hand, and urge, “Fuck me like an orc.”

His eyes flare, the color now somehow a deep garnet, as he changes gears from one second to the next. His hips are pistoning, the pace so fast it would be brutal if it didn’t feel so spectacular.

His grunts are louder as he presses me toward the headboard with every fearsome thrust. Is it what he’s doing or the ferocity with which he’s pounding me that feels like he’s torched something inside me, set me on fire?

Desperate. I’ve never felt this desperate to come in my entire life. My legs scramble for purchase so I can meet him thrust for thrust as we come together like two feral animals. We’re breathing, snorting, grunting, moaning, as our flesh slaps together in a rhythm as old as time.

My orgasm is spiraling, rising, announcing it’s on its way as little mini-orgasms detonate in my pelvis. They’re delicious in their own right, but it’s clear they’re the appetizers and the main course is barreling at me, right around the corner .

“Krull!” I say as the explosion hits, my muscles clenching, spasming around this thick cock. Bliss swirls and circles inside me for long moments, and I clench against his length.

With an explosive grunt, he releases into me, bathing me with his essence in hot, pulsing jets. He thrusts once, twice, three times more, then opens his eyes in wonder as though he just arrived back on Earth from a trip to the stars.

“Mara. I love you.” His voice is filled with amazement, veracity, and so much love.

“I love you too.”

He thumps next to me on the mattress, keeping us connected as his cock relaxes inside me.

“You’re red.”

“Hmmm?” Maybe orcs lose their mind for a moment after they experience that much bliss.

“You’re in a red haze.” He palms a hank of sweaty hair off my forehead as though it’s made of precious strands of gold. “You’re my soulbound.”

“Hmm?”

“Sometimes, when the Goddess is particularly generous, she grants orcs a soulbound mate. The sign she gives is that we see our soulbound in a red haze. It means we’re bound heart and soul. It enhances our connection. Feel it? ”

I’m too stunned to fully comprehend his words, but when I dig deep, I feel something different in the region of my heart. It’s fuller. When I look at him, I can’t deny our connection is stronger than before we made love.

“Feel this?” His eyes flash wide, and he thrusts his chin at me in question.

It’s as though he’s pressing his love at me through our newfound link. It sparks through me, like fireworks exploding. “Now I feel it even more,” my voice is full of awe.

“Yes.” He’s beaming. “The joining happens when we declare our love, then share mutual bliss. The Goddess herself has blessed us. We’re soulbound.”

He tucks me close and murmurs, “ Amnoch baleen mayore , my love. Krenash ja f’ren . I belong to you, my love. Forever and always.”

“Wow! So sexy. So sweet. You can speak orcish to me all day long.”

“Perhaps. But right now, you say it back to me. It will strengthen the bond even more.”

When I repeat his words back to him, it feels as though the cord connecting us doubled in strength. The emotion is so good, so intimate, that I repeat it again.

“Strong, Mara. It’s strong and pure and not going anywhere. Neither am I. We have a thousand details to hash out, but it’s just that—details. Nothing can shake this.” He gestures between the two of us as though he can see the sturdy ribbon that connects us.

Crazy as it sounds, I mean it’s barely been two days, I know deep in my bones, deep in my soul, that this love we have will last a lifetime.