For @zarcake-writes

Hope you enjoy it.

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The
Orcs of the Ridgeback Mountains have settled in the valley near your village.
An act of peace, they’ve agreed to aid your king in a war he’s waging against a
northern threat that’s left their cousins, the Orcs of the Wayfarer Caves,
devastated and scattered. As the daughter of an influential Noble, you’ve been
promised to the Ridgeback Leader as his bride.

Which
is how you find yourself in the leader’s tent, awaiting your husband as he
bathes behind the screen on the other side of the tent. The sound of a male
emerging from the cooling water and toweling off bring impure thoughts that
make the blood rush in two directions, your face and between your legs.

You
glance up as he steps around the screen, and sighs. The site of him shirtless,
covered in a thin layer of water from his bath makes your mouth dry. You see
the various scars crisscrossing his chest, some fresher than others, while a
trail of dark hair runs down between his fleshy abs to the towel covering his
impressive bulge. His jaw is lined with a short beard, while his long black
hair is braided down his back. His tusks are capped with gold, while his tawny
colored skin is covered with black tattoos, dragons and serpents coiling around
arms and chest.

He
steps outside and speaks quietly with his guard for a moment, before closing
the tent flap and approaching you.

You
try scooting backwards, but the pile of pillows behind you prevents it. He
crosses his arms, and shakes his head at you,

“Please
my lord,” you say, “please don’t. My father will pay handsomely for my return, I
swear.”

He
glances away before taking a deep breath and saying, “He’s sent a message. You
are to be used as a bargaining chip in our peace agreement. In short…” he
sits down beside you, “you are to become my wife.”

You
gasp and he looks down as you whisper, “I’ve never been with a man, especially
one of your size.”

He
places his hand across his face, “Really?”

You
bite the inside of your lip, “Yes. Please, spare my virtue this night.”

He
covers his mouth with his hand; his body shakes for a solid minute before his
snickering finally escapes, “I… I will spare you nothing of the sort. If
you do as I say I will…” he avoids looking at you, “… I will
spare you pain.”

You
take a moment to compose yourself before saying, “My lord I fear you may
harm me. Is there such a way for a woman to take something so huge?”

He
groans and shakes his head; it takes him longer to compose himself, “I
assure you there is. It just requires that I give you an ample tongue
lashing.”

“My
lord, to say such a thing to an innocent–” You snort when you meet his
gaze and cover your mouth, “damn it.”

“You
started it.” He says.

You
throw a pillow at him which he blocks, “Oh hush you.”

He
undoes the towel and crawls, naked, across your body; the first time you saw
such brutal power move as languid as a forest cat, you understood why his
people are feared. They have complete control of their bodies, even while yours
betrays you. His nostrils flare and he snorts in something hotter than
amusement,

“Someone’s
having dirty thoughts.” He whispers.

“Your
fault, I assure you.” You reply.

He
lifts the nightgown away from your body, running his nose up your leg up to the
trimmed hair between yours legs,

“You
smell like wild flower honey.” He whispers.

Your
breath hitches when he captures your legs with his arms and inhales deeply at
your core. You know from experience how evil and wicked that mouth of his is…
and how addicted to you he’s become. Your first time under its ministrations you
came screaming his name and coming like a virgin. You almost drowned him, but
after clearing his throat and licking your essence from his lips, he returned
to drink more of you.

He
chuckles, sliding his hands up the back of your thighs, “Can I have a taste?”

You
nod and he positions your legs on either side of his head, his arms pinning
your hips as he tests your folds with the tip of his tongue. He uses two
fingers to open you, before inhaling again,

“You
sure? I don’t want to take your virt—”

“For
fuck’s sake Gorett, just eat me already.” You say.

He
grunts, and, using his tusks, keeps you spread open while his tongue slowly
inches inside you. Hands trembling when he finds the spot that undoes you, you
lace your fingers through his hair and hold him against you. He chuckles,
purring as his tongue slides between your folds and up to your clit. You feel
his arm on either side of your body, and you look down as he begins playing
with your breasts. When you meet his gaze, he closes his lips around the
sensitive bud and begins a torturous combination of sucking, licking and gently
twisting between his lips. You cry out as you come, feeling him open his mouth
wide and lap your nectar as it leaks from you.

Grunting
in satisfaction, he lets your legs drop to either side of him, before crawling
up your limp body, wiping his mouth against your belly, before claiming your
lips. The kiss fires every nerve you have left, and you wrap your arms around
him,

“Gorett,”
you whisper, “I don’t think I can move.”

He
grins against your lips before kissing down your jaw to your neck, “My Zarina, my
previous queen. You need only to ask and I will deliver.”

You
wrap your legs around his waist, and he growls as he positions himself against
you; the first thrust is slow and easy, spreading you wide and filling you
deeply. The second and third are the same, the fourth begins to pick up speed,
as his hands drop to your butt and pull you against him. The fifth thrust is
harsh and fills you quickly, while the sixth and seventh begin the typical rhythm
that drives his head against the spot inside you, while also dragging your clit
against the trail of hair on his abs.

After
that, you lose sense of how many times he thrusts into you, only that you’re
moaning and dragging your nails down his back, trying to find purchase. Only
when he growls and pins your hands above your head do you see the blood you’ve
drawn. His stares is unhinged as he claims your mouth, and you’re barely aware
of your scream as you come. A roar follows as his liquid heat fills you and you
both collapse to the pillows, exhausted.

“Shit.”
You whisper. Somehow. You’ve no idea where you’ve gotten the strength.

“You’ve
drawn blood before, my love. The wounds will heal.” He whispers, kissing each
breast until heat begins pooling between your legs again.

“But
will I get my bones back? Not sure where they’ve gone.”

He
chuckles, and kisses you, “Sleep. We’ll make love again in the morning.”

You
close your eyes, mumbling, “Promise?”

He
tucks you against his side, licking his blood from your fingers, “Promise… as
well as get your nails cut. Ow.”

You
groan, “I don’t mean too!”

He
chuckles again and kisses your cheek, “I know, silly swan.”

You
grunt, “Then stop bringing it up, silly swain.”

You
don’t understand his next quip. You’re already asleep.