Chapter 16

GURREK

T oday at the forge, though I am behind on my work, all I wanted was to spend more time with Sita, to show her what I do all day and what means the most to me in the world. I’ll be even more behind tomorrow, but it was worth it to drink in her sweet scent and watch her move through my space, making it hers while she learns my trade.

Everything of mine belongs to Sita now, and I want her to know it. It is our forge, and she is welcome there.

I think back on how I locked her out when I was angry and feel sick to my stomach. There should never be a locked door between us as long as we are husband and wife.

Unfortunately, my cock has been thinking all day about what transpired between us in my bed. Now that I know the truth—that Sita has never been with anyone sexually, not to mention had a serious romantic relationship—I’m going to have to slow down for her. I don’t want to push her into it too soon, as much as she claims to want it. There are physical as well as emotional needs to attend to, and the last thing I want is for either of us to have regrets.

I want to show her I’m worthy of her body as well as her heart. When we do come together in that way, I want emotional satisfaction as much as physical satisfaction. If Sita remains with me—and I cannot bring myself to imagine a world where she doesn’t—then I may be her first and last partner. It’s an immense responsibility, and one I don’t take lightly.

But I have a plan for just how to woo her, just how to convince her that I’m the right partner for her in life. There is a tradition among the orcs leading up to the solstice, and I’ve already begun plotting my approach.

Sita cooks us dinner that night, and she seems full to bursting with an energy I haven’t seen before. I try to help where I can, but she shoos me away, clearly comfortable and happy now in our kitchen. I never expected how much of married life would revolve around cooking and eating, but I’m pleased that she chose me when she has such a natural talent.

Before our meal, I pull her in for a kiss, and Sita vigorously returns it. The taste of her is so divine, the feel of her mouth under mine so intoxicating, that I have to pull myself away so we can eat.

That night, instead of retiring to my bedroom as I have for the last few months, we sit in front of the fire together and practice more writing. When Sita’s mind has grown weary of it, I settle her between my legs facing the hearth and braid her hair. She blushes when I say I want to do it, but allows me to try anyway, even though I’m clumsy. After my first attempt, she shakes it out and shows me how to better separate the fine strands of her hair and weave them together.

Then it’s time for bed, and both my cock and my heart are very pleased at the idea of sleeping side-by-side again. Sita takes off her clothes, leaving on her undergarments as I requested, and lies down on the bed in a very enticing manner. I kiss her again, more passionately, and her body rises off the blankets into my touch. I can’t help but trail my hands down to those marvelous breasts again, teasing her nipples over the fabric. She moans underneath me, so sensitive and eager, and I have to breathe deeply to keep my baser urges at bay.

No, tonight I will show her a different sort of pleasure. As we take our time to navigate through this, I would hate for her to be left unsatisfied, even if my own cock must be kept quiet.

Keeping Sita on her back, I crouch over her hips and draw one hand down between her thighs. Nervously, she keeps them together, clearly afraid of how I’ll react after my discovery last night.

“Open for me?” I ask. Slowly, she does, lifting her underskirt so I can reach her bare skin. Like I did before, I tease that hidden bud with my finger until she’s snapping her hips up into my hands. Then my head drifts lower, until my face is only inches away from that pristine place, and my mouth is watering for her.

“Gurrek?” Sita asks, clearly uncertain about my intentions between her thighs.

“I’m going to touch you there.” I continue playing with her clit, never relenting. “With my mouth.”

“Your mouth ?” She’s aghast at the suggestion. “You shouldn’t!”

I tilt my head. “Why not? I kiss your lips.”

“It’s very different to kiss down there!” Though she’s scandalized, she opens her legs anyway, her skin turning blotchy red.

“It isn’t,” I say, lowering my head down until I can breathe in a whiff of her. Her scent is tantalizing, purely full of desire, and I like that I can make her drip for me. “Let me show you?”

With a huff of indignation, Sita nods in acquiescence, and I finally get to lick her.

All it takes is one swipe and she twitches, an exclamation falling from her lips. I lick again, twirling my tongue around her pearl, and she lets out a full-throated moan.

Ah, yes, there it is.

I dive in with intention and ferocity, laving my tongue over her as she squirms and whines, her body arching into my touch. I know what would make it even better—to slide a finger into her small slit and find the sweet spot inside her—but I’ll wait a little longer. That part will likely hurt, even if I’m gentle, and I want to show her more pleasure first.

It doesn’t take long for Sita’s cries to grow louder and more exquisite, until she’s digging her hands into my hair.

“Gurrek!” she calls out. My eyes roll back in my head at the sound of it, and I dig deeper, thrashing her tiny bud until her whole body freezes and she lets out a single, drawn-out moan.

When I pull away, because I know she’s much too sensitive, I find the shine of her release running down from her slit and dripping onto the blankets. Good.

I lie down beside Sita again as she pants, her eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. Slowly she turns to me, her face full of wonder.

“What was that?” she asks, her chest heaving. “I’ve touched there before, but never... like that.”

I wipe my lips with my wrist and grin down at her, satisfied that I’ve shown her something new.

“I can do it every night,” I say, smoothing a hand down her belly to show my affection. She wriggles closer to me, seeking my touch, and I curl my arm around her.

“But what do I do for you?” she asks, her lids drooping low. “How do I make you cry out my name?”

I can’t help a laugh at this, how eager she is to return the favor.

“We can work on that later,” I say. “What about tomorrow?”

She sighs with disappointment, but eventually agrees.

“All right. Tomorrow.” She raises an eyebrow. “You will show me what’s under there?”

I love that she desires me, too, even if she doesn’t know the beast I’m harboring.

“Yes,” I say, kissing her lips. “I will.”

Even as she falls asleep, I’m still painfully hard. I feel dirty as I snake one hand under the blanket and take my cock in hand, stroking it slowly while I watch her eyes darting this way and that under her lids. When I come, I use my drawers to soak it up, pledging to wash everything tomorrow.

We decide on a new schedule in the morning, where Sita will continue to visit Merka to get language lessons and work on her “baby blanket.” Then I’ll pick her up at lunch and show her what I do in the forge all day, where she’s very capable of keeping my tools organized and bringing me things as I need them. All I have to do is tell her the name of the tool and she fetches it, and the day goes by much quicker with her presence there, tidying up the dusty floors and organizing my materials.

Tonight, though I had plans for us, they all go out the window when there comes a knock at the door.

It’s Lassa, and she has a mischievous look in her eye when I greet her.

“Can I borrow your wife?” she asks. “My own wife just finished fermenting a new beer, and I thought little Sita might like to try it.”

I can’t express how much I appreciate the effort Lassa’s putting in to make my human feel welcome. Sita gives me a sidelong look, knowing we had plans, but clearly wanting to accept the invitation.

“Can Gurrek come?” she asks, but Lassa waves a hand dismissively.

“You see this old orc every day. Come on and do something just for you.”

It’s good advice, so with a sigh, I usher Sita out of the house. Then I whisper to Lassa, “Don’t let her drink too much, or she’ll feel terrible tomorrow.”

The burly orc woman smirks. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

And then the two of them are gone.

The house is oddly quiet and desolate without Sita around, so I busy myself cleaning clothes and blankets. I’ll leave them out to dry, and I have some backups in my trunk.

When Sita stumbles home at last, she is bubbly and happy to see me.

“I didn’t know enough words,” she complains the moment she’s in the door. “I need more words.”

“Did you have fun anyway?”

She nods, but there’s a solemness to her. “Oh, yes. Lassa is... funny. Loud.” That is a very apt description. “Her wife, too. It was fun, but I’m happy to be home.”

When we’re in bed together again that night, she wants to touch me, but her hands are sloppy with her drunkenness. I kiss her goodnight, and she lets out an objection, until I reassure her that we’ll get more time tomorrow.

We have all the time in the world.