Her Orc Protector: Chapter 8

Korr stops midway through putting on his jacket. “What?”

Oh gods.

I could take the words back, say I didn’t mean what I started to suggest, but darkness gives me courage. I justify it by convincing myself that I don’t want Korr to lose his cock to frostbite while he’s outside.

Squaring my shoulders, I say, “You don’t have to go outside. You could, um, take care of it here.”

Korr pauses. “Are you certain, Ivy?”

No!

I want to wail, hide under the covers, and never emerge again. But that wouldn’t be fair to Korr. It’s me—I’m the intruder, and I can’t let him make any more allowances for my sake.

I nod, then realize he might not see me, so I add, “Yes.”

He exhales through his nose, then lets his jacket slip off his broad shoulders. I think for a second that I should open the woodstove door to light the room, but there’s safety in darkness. I can pretend that I don’t know what’s happening.

But it turns out, that’s not true.

Even in the deep shadows of the small space, I sense Korr’s bulky form moving around. He toes off his boots again and stands by the bed, his hands at his hips.

“Where…” He trails off, clears his throat, and tries again. “Where do you want me to, uh…?”

I freeze for a moment, then scoot back, to the far side of the sleeping pallet. “Here,” I breathe. “Here is good.”

He remains silent as he sits with his back against the wall. Gods, I should have made an effort to illuminate the room, because I feel his dark gaze on me yet I can barely see anything at all. His hands rest on his knees, his legs slightly bent.

I bite my lip, trying not to fidget with my hands in my lap. Should I say something, give him permission?

Korr shifts on the bed, one hand going to his leather pants. At least that’s what I assume he’s doing—there’s a swish of leather, and a soft groan. Has he pulled out his cock? Or palmed it through his underwear? Does he even wear those?

Every move, every second that passes, brings more burning questions I want to answer. Without intending to, I shuffle closer, squinting toward him.

“I need to touch my cock, Ivy.” Korr’s voice is a deep rumble. “I’m so hard it hurts.”

My chest is too tight, my blood pounding through my veins. Tension pools deep in my belly, and I squeeze my thighs together.

“All right,” I breathe. “Do it.”

A slight shift, and a sharp inhale from him. He’s touching himself, right in front of me. I wish I could see his cock. Is it shaped like a human’s? Is it green?

“What would you like me to do?” he asks next.

I tear my gaze away from his lap and lift it to his face, as if I could read his expression. My breaths are coming up short, my heart thundering, and I can’t think straight, not with all this curiosity coursing through me. Curiosity and sharp need.

“Tell me what to do, Ivy,” Korr repeats, coaxing.

It’s evil, what he’s doing. He’s making me participate in this—this wicked performance. I want to hide in the darkness and be nothing but a spectator, a secret admirer of his. But he won’t let me, and I hate him a little for that. I hate myself more because I can’t deny him.

“S-squeeze it,” I demand, stuttering over the word. “And run your fist down the length.”

Korr’s breath puffs out between us, but he moves his hand, and from the way the sleeping pallet creaks beneath him, he moves his hips, too.

“Does that feel good?” I ask, unable to hold back the question.

“Aye,” he rasps. “So good.”

A surge of power thrills me. I made him do that. It’s an illusion, of course, because he could do the same on his own, but he’s giving me control of the situation, and I want more.

“Do it again,” I command, voice stronger. “Tell me what feels good.”

The sound of skin rubbing on skin is indecent, as are his low groans.

“I’m imagining you,” he growls. “How your pussy would grip my knot.”

His what?

“What is a knot?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Here.” Korr extends a hand toward me. “Feel it.”

Feel it.

The order is an invitation, yes, but not one I can refuse. Not when I’m panting with want, my body acting on pure instinct.

I crawl to him on my hands and knees until I’m close enough to grasp his palm. Without hesitation, he guides my fingers down. At the first contact with his hot, smooth skin, I jump, but Korr is right there with me, his breath hissing between his teeth.

“That’s it,” he encourages me. “A little lower, and you’ll feel it.”

I still can’t see much, but I don’t need to. The heft of him in my palm, the thickness, tells me he’s much larger than any human I’ve ever seen. He’s rock-hard, his length covered in warm skin.

Instead of obeying his order to slide my palm down, I explore the head of his cock first, running my fingers up his shaft. He groans, his hips bucking lightly, so I straddle his thighs to keep him in place. My legs part, and Korr takes a deep inhale.

“Ah, the scent of you…” He throws his head back, and it thumps against the wooden wall of the hut. “I can’t, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” I ask, breathless.

“Can’t touch you,” he forces out through gritted teeth. “You’re hurt. And you don’t know me. But gods, Ivy, you smell so fucking good.”

My breath hitches, and I squeeze my fingers tighter around Korr’s cock. He bucks his hips, and I wonder what it would be like to ride him, to give in to the intense need growing in my belly and sink onto his hard length.

“I-I’m all right.” I gasp as his hand closes around my right thigh. “I’m not hurting anymore.”

The orc doesn’t give me time to reconsider what I just said. He slips his hand under the hem of his borrowed tunic, touching my skin. He helped me get changed yesterday, helped me dress my wounds and bruises, and then, his touch had been impersonal, almost cold, and it had made me feel safe. Now, there’s nothing but passion driving his every move. He moves his palm around to my ass and takes a rude handful, squeezing, then traces the sensitive underside of my thigh.

I can’t think of what he’s doing to me, or I might disintegrate on the spot, so I refocus on his cock, running my hand lower, to where a peculiar swell at the bottom of his length catches my attention.

“Ah!” Korr’s shout of pleasure rings out in the small space. “Fuck, Ivy.”

This must be his knot, a thick, rounded bulge. “What does it do?” I ask.

Korr brings his forehead to mine, then slides his palm to my front. His fingers climb up my thigh until he meets the thatch of curls covering my core.

“It’ll lock us together,” he rasps. “I’ll fill your pussy when I come and give you all my seed.”

With those words, he slips two fingers down my slit. I jerk in his lap, but he’s got his other hand on my hip, keeping me in place as he explores. Our breaths mingle in the narrow space between our bodies. I squeeze my eyes shut, not that it changes much, but I can’t hold them open anymore. I won’t survive this building pressure inside me, surely. Intimacy has never felt like this before. It had always been rushed, cold, almost dirty, not meant to encourage and give comfort.

But Korr soothes me with slow rubs of my back even as he dips a thick finger inside me for the first time.

“Is that all for me?” he whispers, and his breath touches my lips.

I nod, unable to form words. Yes, it’s all for him.

“You’re so soft,” he purrs. “So wet and hot.”

I whimper, licking my lips. My hand trembles on Korr’s cock, but I force myself to stay on task, to give him as much pleasure as he’s giving me.

“You’ll have to tell me,” Korr murmurs, “where is it you like to be touched.” His cheek caresses mine, and his next words bring his lips to the shell of my ear. “Is it here?”

He pumps that finger inside me, curling it ever so slightly to touch some hidden, sensitive part of me. I cry out, trying to get away from him while attempting to get more of him, immediately.

“Aye, you like that, don’t you?” He grazes his teeth lightly over my ear. “What else?”

With my free hand, I grasp his wrist and guide his finger to the outside of my pussy, where a sensitive little pearl is hidden under a hood of skin. The moment his pad traces over it, I whimper, stars exploding on the insides of my lids.

As long as my eyes are closed, as long as we’re shrouded in darkness, I can pretend this is all a dream.

“Here,” I breathe. “I want you here.”

Korr catches my lips with his, kissing me for the first time. It’s no gentle peck but a claiming, clumsy at first as we learn each other, as we try to find our rhythm. I splay my fingers on his naked chest, digging my nails into his muscles, then move my hand to the nape of his neck to get him to angle his head slightly.

Korr’s arm wraps tighter around me, and he deepens the kiss, licking my lips, then tangling his tongue with mine. His tusks scrape against my skin, the broken edge of one pressing into my cheek, but soon we learn how we fit together, and I forget about that and just feel.

After a moment, he seems to realize his hand has stopped moving, and he rolls two fingers over my slick pearl, then pushes them inside my pussy, stretching me. I rub my palm over his length from crown to knot, listening to his breaths. His kisses turn hungry and messy, and he slides his other palm to my ass to lift me to my knees, giving him better access to me.

He delves deeper into my pussy, adding another finger, and I’ve never been stretched this full.

“Korr!” I yell, muscles locking up. “Gods, please, please—”

He thrusts his fingers right where I need them and swipes his thumb over my pearl, and I come apart, pleasure blinding me. I curl over his hand, my thighs trembling with the force of my release, and roll my hips to get more of that sensation.

“That’s it, little witch,” Korr rasps, “ride my hand.”

There’s a feral part of me that wants to line up his thick cock and sink down on it right this instant, to get all that delicious girth inside me, but before I can act on my impulse, Korr releases my ass and wraps his hand around mine where I’m gripping him. He squeezes hard, much harder than I would have thought comfortable, and bucks his hips up, all while still fucking me with his fingers.

He comes, his big body bowing off the bed, and the new push inside my pussy has me clamping down on him again, another wave of pleasure washing over me. I feel the kick of his release under my palm as his cock shoots warm splashes of cum all over my hand and his.

Time seems to stop. We both tremble, still entwined, our breaths harsh. I still can’t see anything but shadows, and I’m grateful for it, because I don’t want to know what Korr is feeling right now. I duck my head to hide my face from him—I suspect his eyesight is better than mine at night. He is so much more than me in every way.

Korr slowly withdraws his fingers from me, and I gasp at the rude slide of them over my sensitive pussy.

“We should wash,” I whisper.

My hand is sticky with cum, my thighs damp with my release.

But Korr brings his hand up to his face and licks my slickness from his fingers, humming in pleasure at the taste.

Gods, he’s strange. But I listen to the rumbling in his chest anyway, fiercely proud that I was the one to bring him such joy. He’s never had that with anyone else.

The thought is enough to finally sober me.

“Oh,” I gasp. “This was your—Korr, are you all right?”

I lift my clean hand to his cheek and angle his face toward the woodstove in an effort to see his expression. It doesn’t work, but I feel the slight movement in his cheek as he grins.

“Aye, I’m all right,” he murmurs. “I’ve never been better.” He lets out a low laugh, then swipes a hand down his chest. “But I’m a mess. Wait here for me, Ivy.”

He doesn’t bother with boots or his jacket this time, only disappears through the door. I scramble for the stove and open its door, flooding the room with orange light. It’s enough for me to find one of the strips of linen we’d used before and wash myself from the melted snow water. I swipe the cloth between my legs and shiver at the touch—I’m still so sensitive, so ready, I could likely peak again in minutes.

This has never been my experience before. While my marriage with Patrick wasn’t born of love, we’d come together in the night in those early months, and he’d shown me some pleasure, but it had been fleeting and left me cold. He’d always rolled away from me after and didn’t offer me any of the comfort I needed.

My heart twinges at the realization that Korr left, too. Maybe he had a good reason—he’d come a lot, and had to wash himself, but I can’t count on him being any different. Especially since he’s never done this before and he can’t know what I like.

But to tell him, to make myself that vulnerable…

I close the woodstove door, crawl under the blankets, and cover myself to my chin, turning my back on the door. Minutes later, Korr enters, cursing softly over how cold it is outside. Then he joins me in bed and stretches his large body next to mine.

A minute passes in silence, and I dare not breathe too loudly. I don’t want to face him and tell him what I wish he would do, and I berate myself at the same time for being so weak.

Then Korr shifts to his side and says, “I want to hold you again.”

He sounds almost angry about the admission, though by now I know it’s not anger that’s aimed at me.

I shuffle in bed until I’m looking at his dark shape. “I-I’d like that.”

He opens his arms to me, then pulls me in when I close the gap between us. His breath ruffles the hair on my temple, right by the bandage I still have wrapped around my head but no longer need because his magic balm healed my injuries so quickly. I’m tired and overwhelmed and worried, but the moment I lean my cheek on Korr’s damp, naked chest, my mind quiets, and all my muscles relax.

“Sweet dreams,” Korr murmurs.

His heartbeat slows, and his breaths grow deeper.

My last thought before I follow him is that I’m wrapped in the arms of an inhuman male, one that my peers would have called monstrous, but I’ve never felt this safe in my life.