Chapter 9

Itry to hold in my gasp as Jar’kel’s hand slides up my side, pausing at my ribcage before brushing over my chest. Instantly my nipples harden into tiny rocks, and when he passes over them again, I can’t help squirming. It feels far too good.

“Simka,” Jar’kel chides quietly. I bite my lip, trying to stay still as he runs his hand back over my hardened nipple, then down my belly. “If you keep moving like that…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I think I can figure it out. If he’s anything like a human man, he has a cock there between his legs.

“I’m trying not to move,” I whimper. I hate how pathetic I sound, but I’m torn between wanting him to stop and wanting him to keep going. How can he be so nonchalant about this? I’m leaning into his touch, and the empty place at the crux of my thighs is struggling to find friction. I shouldn’t want this grouchy old troll’s hands all over me, and yet a tingle is trickling down into my belly and spreading to my arms and legs. I feel myself clenching, opening and closing for something that isn’t there.

“Please,” I whimper as his fingers graze over my pelvis. I can’t possibly stay still while he touches me this way, when all my body wants is to respond to his. And here? In front of everyone? “Please don’t.”

Jar’kel stops very abruptly, and his body becomes hard as rock under mine. I can barely hear his muttered “sorry” as he slides me off his lap and gets to his feet. With a tight expression, he picks up his mug. “More mead,” he grunts, and strides away without a look back.

But instead of stopping at the barrels of mead, he keeps going and disappears into the camp.

I sit there, stunned, for far too long. Then I glance around to determine if anyone saw me being spurned by my supposed-mate, but the rest of the orcs are consumed in their own activities. That’s when I notice that Vavi’s tunic is pulled up over her belly, and her pants are around her knees. As horrifying as it is, I can’t tear my gaze away from what I see: Gorren’s thick, green cock is sliding into her, then out again, soaked in her wetness. She cries out, and his hands cup her belly tightly as he fucks her at the table right next to us.

They aren’t the only ones. Around the flames I spot another couple, a male orc and a male human, both of them grunting and groaning as the orc sinks himself deep into his human mate. My whole body lights on fire, from my face to my toes, and a ball of pure lightning strikes me right at the base of my hips.

It’s like some mad spell has fallen over the camp. I clamp my legs together tight, hoping Jar’kel will come back. But the sounds of lovemaking only grow louder as time wears on, and still, I’m alone.

He’s abandoned me.

I’ve seen sex before, but it was never so… in my face. Once, when I was out feeding Fio late at night, I discovered Vavi and one of the village boys locked at the hips behind the shed. I screeched and covered Fio’s eyes, but it was dark, and I didn’t see much myself. But I still knew what they were doing.

Later, Vavi told me everything—how sex had felt somewhat unpleasant the first time, but she’d still enjoyed it. And each time it gets better, she’d said. After that I made sure she was drinking purentea, and told her I never wanted to see her behind the shed again.

Now here she is, doing it right in the middle of a crowd. I don’t even recognize the woman who once snuck off into a dark corner to do the deed.

Surrounded by groaning orcs, all of them reveling in their bodies, I think of sitting on Jar’kel’s lap, where I could feel… him, through his pants. Just the idea of what’s underneath makes heat lance through my body and pool at the base of my hips.

Something about this place has infected me. I have to get away before it burrows any deeper into me.

I leap off the bench and sprint through the camp, heading straight for our tent. When I rip the flap aside, I find Jar’kel there, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He looks up when I enter, and his expression is… strangely vulnerable. Open to me, showing me just a glimmer of the real troll hiding underneath that hardened face.

I don’t want him to see how the gathering at the bonfire affected me, so I dive for the bed, burying myself as deep under the furs as possible. I can’t get images of the orcs out of my mind, their bodies gyrating, their cocks glistening with fluid. I don’t notice that I’m shaking all over until a hand brushes my arm, and I still myself. The last thing I want is to act sensitive where Jar’kel can see me—but I have nowhere else to hide.

“Get away from me,” I say, but my voice cracks in the middle. His hand stops moving, but doesn’t leave me.

“What happened?” he asks. Even though I can’t see his face from inside my cocoon, I can picture his condescending expression.

“Them,” is all I can answer. “All of them. Even Vavi, doing that, right there in front of everyone.” I clench my hands into fists and grit my teeth. “Fucking.”

Using that crude word lights my body up again, and I groan into the pillow.

“It was too much for you, wasn’t it?” Jar’kel asks, more quietly than I’ve ever heard him.

“No, it wasn’t,” I say, even though it’s a filthy lie. Everything is too much, and I don’t know what to do with all of this raw need rising up inside me. I want him to touch me, even now, and it’s terrifying. I’ve never craved hands on me like this, and there’s nothing else more awful.

But the way he reacted, like I was disgusting, is a spear buried in my chest. And then to see all of the orcs out there, doing that…

I have to get out of here.

Jar’kel says nothing, but he starts stroking my hair in soothing, steady motion. I wonder what it means. Does he pity me? Is this sympathy?

But he doesn’t move or speak. After my lungs have calmed, I feel nothing but exhausted, and it’s easy to slide into sleep.

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