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Chapter 12

Tally

H e’s going to make it, that’s what I’ve taken away from my very limited, basic conversations with Norgren’s uncle. With Rangorr, I mean. He gave me his name at some point, but it’s all a dull memory to me because I’ve been watching every deep breath Norgren takes, waiting for any sign of him improving or worsening, so we can take action.

There was a while there where it was dicey, and I didn’t know if he would make it to the other side. I held his hand and thought with all my heart about his living through this, about what kind of life we’ll have together.

Thanks to the old, grumpy healer, Norgren made it through, and his breathing has grown more sturdy and steady as the hours pass. It may be some days before he can get onto his feet, which seems impossible to me given the extent of his injury.

Rangorr just shrugs. “Strong,” he says in Freysian, and nods at Norgren. “Very strong. ”

And I know he’s right.

When the day comes that Norgren can walk again, we decide that climbing the mountain to see his mother is too treacherous in his current state. Instead, we pledge to come visit again as soon as Norgren is well, and his uncle leaves me with the majority of his supplies so I can continue to care for my ogre while he heals. He will assure Norgren’s mother that he is well, and that he’s happy with his new human mate. Rangorr seems even the slightest bit impressed that I was able to save his life at all.

It was a long journey here, and it takes three times as long on the way back home, perhaps more. I carry both of our packs, but our slow pace and frequent breaks make it possible. I care for his wounds every night, and before long we’ve passed the town that was in ruins.

When we’re home again, it feels like forever and a day since I saw our house with our pen and chicken coop. I make up the bed for Norgren, and he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh as he sinks into the furs.

“Home,” he says, as I lie down beside him and take his hand.

I nod and kiss his cheek. “Home.”

It takes a long time for Norgren to get his full range of movement back, even with his ogre strength and stamina. We run low on food, since I’m no good at hunting, but I do manage to snare a few wild turkeys, one of which I butcher, and the others I put into the coop.

Then one evening, when Norgren has come out into the living room to lie in front of the fire, he gestures for me to lie down next to him. We look into the flames together, his hands wrapped around my middle while he runs one thumb over the swell of my belly .

“I had another dream,” he says in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “I dreamt you had my whelp, in here.” He bunches up my flesh with both hands, massaging it under his fingers.

“You did, huh?” I ask. “What happened next?”

“It came out small, but strong. Just one of many.”

I have to laugh. “Many? How many?” He’s told me that the other ogre and his human had a child together, so I’ve known it was possible.

“As many as I can put in you.” He kisses behind my ear, and the hands cupping my belly start to traverse other parts of my body, making me shiver and gasp. He lifts up my dress, taking my ass firmly in his hands, and then venturing inward toward the tender place that’s been aching for him for weeks now.

Though I can feel his urgency, his hands don’t move quickly. My ogre is intentional as he dips down between my thighs, simply skating one finger over my folds. But I want more. I need more.

And so he gives me more, slicking his fingers in and out of me, taunting my clit, making me ache and squirm and whine for him. When he finally unlaces his pants, I’m more than ready, so ready that as soon as his cock is free, I bring it between my thighs and grind my hungry sex against it. Norgren’s groan is primal, and his fingers dig into my hips as he increases the pressure. All it would take for him to slip inside me is if I tilted my body, and...

The tip of his cock kisses the dip between my legs, so I snap my hips forward, and just the head of him slides in. I’m tight after so much time apart, and I wriggle and moan as he widens me, the gentle curve of his cockhead plying me open. Norgren’s hands travel up and down my back, then cup my heavy breasts, tweaking each nipple between his fingers. I tilt forward even more, spreading my thighs for him, and Norgren can’t restrain his moan as he finally comes home again, settling right where he belongs.

Norgren

To be inside my Tally... there is no word to describe it, no image to convey how it feels to be a part of her again. I take her slowly and tenderly, as that is the most my body will allow, but when I am well again I will fuck her many times a day, and ensure that even as we till the land she’s dripping with my seed.

I make her seize and shake around me, and then start all over again, driving her over the cliff and catching her at the bottom.

I will never know another happiness like this.

That turns out to be a false statement.

When she doesn’t bleed at her usual time, Tally explains to me that it’s likely because my seed finally took, and she will be sprouting our very own whelp soon. I kiss her all over, and then lick her cunt until she’s begging to have me inside her. My thrill is indescribable.

I start hunting more often, saving up stores for the cold months. Tally has been collecting and preserving, using her many marvelous skills. In her spare time she begins distilling ingredients for her tinctures and other frightening-sounding creations.

Then she tells me she’s going to go look for a town where she can sell them.

“But trollkin have taken everything,” I tell her, annoyed to even be having this conversation after our last foray resulted in a foot-long scar down my chest.

“There are things we need, Norgren,” she says, not giving an inch. “I have to find civilization.”

I don’t like the idea at all after our last run-in with trollkin military, but as she is the one carrying our whelp, I have a hard time disagreeing with her on things .

So we leave home again, this time in the other direction. I keep on the lookout, and we stick to the trees until a much larger road comes into view.

There are people on it—humans, like her.

“Yes!” Tally practically cheers. “Wow. So it’s not all gone.” I survey the countryside, and while it looks like there was a battle here, the humans must have fought the trollkin off.

“Stay here?” she asks, and points at the ground around my feet. I laugh.

“Yes. Stay.”

With a glint of mischief in her eye, Tally takes off toward town. She’s gone for a good chunk of the day, and I grow anxious as the sun sinks lower in the sky. But when she returns, my human is bright in the eyes and smiling from one round cheek to the other.

She holds out a small pouch and shakes it, and the coins inside jangle together. In her other hand she produces a whole big bag of supplies.

“Seeds, ingredients, some things we’ll need to get through the winter,” she says proudly.

It was worth the trip just to see her smile this way.

I worried that carrying an ogre whelp might be too much even for my Tally, but she is as strong as a bear. She continues her daily tasks, only stopping when she needs to rub her feet. I make a point of bringing her into my lap in the evenings and massaging all of her tired muscles, then laying her across the furs so I can drink up the nectar between her legs, a flavor that has marvelously changed since she began growing. It’s impossible to avoid my need then. I try my best to take her slow, but that’s not always what my Tally wants. Those nights she gets onto her hands and knees, begging me to slide into her. I find the small, sweet button hidden in her folds and massage it, too, while she cries and clenches and drips around me.

Still, when she feels that she’s getting closer, we decide to make the journey back again to the encampment. We butcher the turkeys and dry out their meat so we have plenty of rations, and then set off with our bags packed. I bring two weapons this time, and we carefully keep off the roads.

Though my mother isn’t well these days, her face lights up when she sees my mate is full and round. Tally doesn’t need help carrying our whelp, as Grunagg’s mate did, and I am proud of her. Lovesick as I am, I spend those nights at the camp around the fire running my hands over her swollen belly, kissing the soft span of her throat, and my uncle grunts that I am a whipped fool. When she learns the meaning of this word, Tally’s laugh is like the ring of a bell. I want to save up every one of those laughs, just for me.

When our whelp is born, I understand why my mate’s pregnancy was so much easier. He comes out with the same color skin as my Tally, bearing the same deep brown hair, and a small, frail body.

He’s human.

None of us knows what to make of this as my uncle brings him to Tally’s breast. She sighs and leans back into my arm, and I’m flooded by a warmth beyond any other. And this happiness, I realize, is the truest one I could have.

We decide to wait until our son is a little stronger before we leave, and while my mother won’t say it, she’s reluctant to see us go. But I’ll make sure my mate is swollen up with whelp again by next year and promise to return soon. My uncle smooths a tincture over the baby’s forehead to help keep him quiet and calm while we travel, and then we depart down the mountain again.

When we return to our glade, I look upon our house and I’m flooded with the feeling of finally, at last, being home . I set right away to setting the foundation for an addition, and Tally’s mouth falls open when she sees the space that I’ve marked out.

“How many more of these do you want?” she asks, holding the baby out toward me. I take the tiny creature in my arms, and he giggles as he grasps my tusk in his little hands.

“Many,” I say gravely. Tally just shakes her head at me, but she’s smiling.

“Guess you’d better get to work,” she says, and saunters off with a very provocative sway in her hips. I follow after her, whelp tucked neatly in my arm, eager to see what new trick she has planned for me. The other day she concocted a special tea that made my cock hard for three hours, and it was both wonderful and agonizing. If I haven’t filled her up with a fresh seed after that, I don’t know what it will take.

But I’m excited to try again, from now until the end of time.

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this book, please consider buying one of my other books! Your support makes a big difference to indie authors like me.

More fun books to read

Stealing the Troll’s Heart is the first book in my Trollkin Lovers fantasy series, where humans and trollkin are at war—but some may cross the lines for love.

My Minotaur Husband is a sweet, fluffy, super steamy book about a human woman and her trial marriage to a rather… large minotaur.

Prince of Beasts is a fairytale, arranged marriage romance between a Queen and her new monstrous husband.

The Monster Menagerie is an anthology featuring six short stories and seven sexy monsters.

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