Chapter 4

Cragnorr

M y Mia. She defended me valiantly, and once again I owe her my life.

My Mia. Even when she could barely hold herself up on two legs, she attacked another human—for me .

I hold her even closer as I dodge tree trunks and low branches, as I barrel through brambles, scratching up my legs, because I know what this means.

Now we are both on the run. What she did is irreversible, unforgivable, in the minds of the villagers. She protected an ogre, a monster, and harmed one of her own.

Our fates are tied together even more deeply now as we both flee the place where we can never return. All because of me.

I run and run, despite the searing pain in my shoulder and the aching of the dog bite in my leg. The gunshot only grazed me, thankfully, and it looks worse than it is. But we must put as much distance between ourselves and the village as possible before the sun rises and men can ride out on horses to continue the search .

“Cragnorr.” I don’t realize I’ve come to a stop, my eyes starting to close, until I hear Mia’s voice. “Let’s find somewhere to hide. You need rest.”

I shake my head. I can’t rest, not while we’re in danger. Not while she is in danger. But then her small hand cups my cheek, and her dark brown eyes look steadily into mine.

“Stop. Please. You can’t go on any longer. And your arm...” She gives the wound a worried glance.

She is right that I’m losing strength quickly, so I nod in agreement. I don’t know where we could possibly find shelter so far from the mountain I used to call home, but I’ll try.

Still carrying Mia close to my chest, I search and search, until I find a dense patch of aspen trees huddled tightly together. Setting Mia on the ground, I break a few tree branches to open up our way inside. There’s not much room in the tiny glade, but it will do for a few hours.

I go in first and cross my legs, which are unfortunately so large they take up all of the ground space. Mia chews her lip for a moment before she steps through, then neatly settles herself in the nest made by my thighs and knees.

Right then, I’m thankful that I’m too tired for even my cock to awaken. When she leans against me, though, using my chest and belly like a bed, it’s much more difficult to keep it at bay. Still, I manage to quiet myself. When Mia shivers, I curl one arm around her just enough to cover some of her exposed body.

She’s only out here in her nightgown because of me. Because I was foolish, because I came down to look for her when she had explicitly told me not to.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur again, before I give in to sleep.

Mia

I don’t blame Cragnorr for what happened. I was the one who swung that axe and did such an ugly, horrible thing. Now Davon is maimed, permanently, and I can never undo it. I’m the one who banished myself forever.

There’s no turning back, so now what? Where do I go if I can’t go home?

These thoughts keep me awake even as Cragnorr falls into a deep slumber. His body is warm, so warm, and feels quite wonderful. I snuggle into him, and his other arm wraps around me to pull me tight against him in his sleep.

Finally, I’m able to drift off, too. But in my dreams men tromp through the forest, their lamps and torches flashing through the trees. Davon is screaming, blood pouring from his stump.

Then, right in front of me, Cragnorr is cut down. His eyes roll back in his head, just like his parents’ were when I found their dead bodies so long ago.

I wake up panting and sweating, and so, so hungry.

Cragnorr is awake, watching me as I blink bleary eyes. I’m sprawled across him, his arms keeping me rooted to his body. And where my legs are bent to nestle between his... something warm and thick is pressed against me. It’s right where his?—

I jerk away suddenly when I realize what’s there, and scramble out of the copse of trees, my face flaming.

I know Cragnorr has one of those , of course. I bathed with him for years, until I became aware of just how big my breasts had gotten, and my mother made sure to tell me no one was to ever see them unless we were married. It gave men ugly ideas , she said. I didn’t think my ogre would have those sorts of ideas, but I stopped getting in the water naked with Cragnorr after that. As his body grew bigger and taller, and that thing between his legs became thicker and longer, I didn’t go with him to the lake at all. He was plenty old enough by then that he could bathe himself, and I didn’t like how his exposed body made me feel—warm all over, almost ticklish, though no one was touching me.

Now I have that same hot-all-over, skin-too-tight feeling at the brush of Cragnorr’s cock against my thigh. I know what cocks are for. Once a village boy fondled me, and as his sloppy hands covered my body, I saw how that thing grew bigger and strained at his pants.

It had felt wrong, even gross, for him to touch me that way while he was getting hard, so I left after one wet kiss. I didn’t see him again, except in passing. Word got around that I was a prude because I wouldn’t touch him, but I never let it bother me. It’s up to me whether I want to touch someone’s privates or not.

But Cragnorr’s doesn’t feel wrong and gross. No, that bulge makes me... excited.

Instead of fighting the cold air as I’ve been doing all night, I let it inside, hoping to cool the heat finding its way down between my legs. Soon Cragnorr emerges from the den of aspens where we slept, and he won’t look at me.

So he’s frightened of it, too—of how it reacted to me.

“I need to find some food,” I say, earning his attention. I rub my stomach, which feels painfully empty. Cragnorr nods. “And we need to get you something for that gunshot.” The wound is looking nastier as time goes on, and I have no way to treat it. “The nearest town is Sackett, to the east. If we’re quick, maybe we can get there before news reaches them.” I fist the few coins I found in my mother’s coat. “Then I’ll buy us some food there.”

Cragnorr’s face hardens with resolve, and together, we start walking.

That day, we manage only to find a few berries and nuts, just enough to give me some strength back. It’s hard for us to get far with how wobbly I am on my feet, so Cragnorr still has to carry me a good way, which I resist because of his injury, but he won’t have it. I hope neither of his wounds are getting infected.

Our stomachs are both empty as the sun sets. We decide to sleep out in the open now that we’re farther away from my village, hoping the townspeople aren’t still out looking for us—or worse, lawmen.

Unfortunately, I’m freezing in just my nightgown and coat, so I curl up close to Cragnorr’s side on the grassy ground. He turns to face me, and I’m presented once again with his thick chest, all dense muscle with a thin layer of fat over the top to protect him. His skin is warm and soft against my face, so I wriggle even closer, and he inhales sharply. Then Cragnorr wraps his arms around me, and brings my feet between his thick legs to keep them warm.

This time, when he thickens up under his pants, I try to ignore it. He’s not making any untoward movements, so what’s happening must be involuntary. If he does nothing, then I’ll do nothing, too. Perhaps it’ll go away.

Still, it’s oddly thrilling to know he feels like this about me. Does his body really want mine? Is that what it means? Does he see me as someone who he could... do that with?

Fire spreads across my body at the thought. He has a cock, and I have a place where it could go.

But he’s my friend, my confidante, the person closest to me in the world. He’s also an ogre, and quite a bit bigger than any human man would be.

It all seems ridiculous—in my head, anyway. My body has made completely different decisions about what it thinks of this situation we’ve found ourselves in. He’s so warm and comforting around me that it wants to grind my hips against his, to feel even more of that thing against me. My hands itch to reach out and touch it, to find out everything about it. The fact that it belongs to Cragnorr makes it safe. Where the idea of that village boy’s cock made me nauseated, I only feel anticipation now.

“Cragnorr?” I venture, afraid of disturbing the silence. He tilts his head down at me, and his eyes are always so soft, it’s as if he’s looking at the moon in his hand.

I wonder if asking is really the right thing to do. Maybe we would be crossing a line between us that shouldn’t ever be crossed, and we won’t be able to go back afterwards.

But I have no home, and neither does he. It’s just the two of us out here in the wilderness, with nothing to our names but a few coins and empty hollows in our bellies. What else do I have to fear? Can I have this one good thing in the midst of the madness?

I suppose I could be afraid that Cragnorr will leave me. That’s the worst thing that might happen. But I know he would never. No, Cragnorr is the only one who is truly safe, who can give me the comfort I need now that I’ve lost everything.

So I finally ask him, “Can I touch you?” I need another body close to mine. I need Cragnorr.

He blinks those amber eyes at me, as if he doesn’t understand the words. So I place one hand on his chest and slide it down, over his stomach, to the place where a leather tie keeps his pants secured around his hips. I run my palm down farther until I’m almost to that bulge between his legs, and Cragnorr lets out a gasp.

“Here?” I ask again. My curiosity is aflame, wanting to know what’s underneath, what it looks like now, and what it might feel like in my hand.

Cragnorr’s mouth bobs open, his big lower jaw protruding even more than usual and pulling his big tusks away from his cheeks. Then, with wide eyes, he very slowly nods.

My heart speeds up. He wants me to do it. This fills me with far more confidence than I deserve as I try to untie the leather strap holding his pants on his big body. Then his hands land on mine, stilling them. Cragnorr uses his own his thick fingers to slip the knot free, but before he can pull his pants down, his eyes lock on mine. He wears a worried frown, like he’s afraid of me seeing him—and perhaps not liking what I find.

“You’re safe with me,” I tell him, smoothing one hand up his arm to his big tusk. I stroke it from base to tip, and he shudders under me. Then, with a grunt of agreement, he tugs his pants down.

That hidden thing practically springs out, like an animal desperate to be free of a cage. Seeing it sends a bolt of lightning right from my throat to the crux of my thighs, which I unconsciously clench together.

Cragnorr’s cock is huge, even more than I expected. It’s growing in front of my eyes, the wrinkled, green skin smoothing out and stretching as the inside fills up larger. There’s something soft and round hidden under the skin at the tip, and tentatively, I reach out to touch it.

Cragnorr inhales sharply when I sweep my hand over his hot flesh. His cock surges, leaning into my palm, so I touch it again, this time wrapping my fingers partway around him.

“Mia,” Cragnorr whispers, and his hips tremble. It’s so rare for him to speak that I’m encouraged, and I squeeze a little more, earning a pleased gasp.

But I’m not sure what to do with it now. I decide to explore, stroking my hand downward to pull that wrinkled skin back and expose what’s underneath. It reveals a soft, mushroom-shaped head with a slit in the middle that bisects it, and it’s an even darker green compared to the rest of him. This time Cragnorr rewards me with an actual moan, and it’s most certainly a sound of pleasure.

The ogre who has barely spoken in his life is moaning under my hand, and I feel immeasurably powerful.

I bring my hand up to surround the head again, shrouding it before I stroke down, squeezing gently. Cragnorr’s fingers, which have been resting on my shoulder until now, clench. He’s panting, so I slide my hand up again, then bring my other hand to wrap the rest of the way around him.

When I pull that skin back, drawing my grip down to the root, he rewards me with a full-throated groan that sets a fire spreading across my skin.

Then I discover something curious. His cock is now full and thick, and has a prominent ridge running down the underside that leads to a big sac. It’s got dark hair on it like the hair around the base of his length, and each time I stroke, it twitches and draws up. Tentatively I explore down with one hand, and Cragnorr rewards me with more groans when I cup him gently. I find two rather large objects inside, and when I massage there, his hips jerk. His eyes find mine and they are simply wild, his pupils huge and black, swallowing up all of his iris. His teeth are clenched and now his hands are stroking me in return, up and down my sides, over my hips and back again. I love how he feels touching me all over, and I want even more of it.

I return to his cock and pump him faster, never breaking our eye contact. But soon Cragnorr can’t help it any longer and his eyes fall closed, his head tipping back, and he lets out a guttural sound as his cock swells in my hand.

If I thought it was big before, it doesn’t compare to now. The whole thing fills up and then, suddenly, white liquid shoots out, right at my chest. It paints my night gown across the collar bone, and then more spurts down my breasts. My hands abruptly stop as even more of it leaks out, spilling over my wrists.

When Cragnorr finally opens his eyes, he sees what he’s done, and his expression turns frantic. He tries to wipe the creamy white stuff away, but there’s not really any helping it.

I laugh. It just comes out of me, and I have to cover my mouth to stop it. Cragnorr’s shoulders curl up to his neck, as if he’s afraid I’m making fun of him.

I pat his arm. “It’s all right,” I say, cleaning as much off with my hand as I can and wiping it on the grass. “I was dirty anyway.”