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The dig makes my hackles rise and I almost growl at Friza when Pellia just laughs again and fills Friza’s bowl.
“I was head of Garden Manor for many years and ran that house the whole time. This is not the first time I’ve served food to make sure that people are fed on time and I dare say it will not be the last.”
She smiles prettily at my second-in-command and I have to stop myself from being jealous at the little regent’s beauty being directed at someone else. I have no right to jealousy. She is not mine and I am not hers. I merely take my food and sit with my orcs. Friza stays with Pellia, talking to her for a while before coming over with the rest of us. She gives me a curious look and then glances at the human woman, but I don’t reply. Friza knows the relationship starting between me and Pellia is fake. I told her and a small group of my most trusted lieutenants what was happening before we left, outside the castle gates, just to be safe. I know she won’t say anything, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to comment. But what happens between the human and me, even if it is all fake, stays between the human and me. I don’t need the opinions and playful ribbing of my comrades.
Soon it is dark, dinner is over, and Pellia and I are in the tent, the lumen crystals lit. Pellia sits on a bench, rubbing oils into her deep brown skin, and then begins to carefully massage some cream into her scalp. The scent of the oils and creamlingers heavily in the air, mingling with her own natural scent and the effect is pleasant.
The moment feels intimate.Toointimate, as I sit on the bed and watch Pellia complete her bedtime routine.Domesticis the word. I cannot risk being domestic with the beautiful human. It feels too much like a relationship. One that will open me to betrayal again.
Instead, I stand, pulling the largest blanket off of my pile of furs, beginning to affix it to the tent poles, bisecting the space.
“What are you doing?” she asks, behind me.
I turn to her and see that she has tied her braids up on her head and wrapped them with a scarf of silk.
“I’m giving us privacy,” I say severely, turning on her my most fearsome frown. It does not seem to have any effect, though, as she cocks her head to the side with curiosity.
“Whatever for? We are lovers after all,” Pellia gives me a winsome smile. Always keeping up with the ruse. I suppose someone could be listening to us, even now. But I know I need to keep my distance from her, even if that distance is as thin as a blanket.
“I require solitude for my evening meditations,” I bluff, knowing the words sound silly coming from my mouth. Yet, Pellia nods.
“Alright, if you insist. But do not take too long. I have appetites that need sating. As do you.” Her voice becomes a seductive purr at the end. Then she looks at me and mouths some words. It takes me a moment to discern their meaning.
Play along.
I sigh, but summon a growl to my voice. “You will not wait long.”
She smiles at me, that same sunny expression that she gives so freely, then sidles up along my front, trailing her fingers over my chest before disappearing behind the blanket.
My skin is on fire where she touched me, burning with painful desire. I do not think I have ever wanted a female as badly as I do the maddening coquette with whom I am currentlysharing a tent. Hurriedly I douse the lumen crystals, leaving us in darkness. There is no way that I can share a bed with Pellia. Especially if she is going to touch herself this night. Her scent will be too close, her body temptingly near, her willing spirit calling to mine with open abandon.
I will sleep on the ground. It will not be the first time. When I was an orcling, I often slept out under the stars on the rocky dirt as part of my training. I can do so now without complaint. I go to lie down when I hear a moan from behind the makeshift curtain.
“Oh . . . Verrick.”
Oh no. She is going to be . . . vocal with her . . . endeavors. It comes again, this time accompanied by the sounds of movement in the furs.
“Yes, Verrick! There, oh, there!”
I am frozen on the ground, listening to Pellia’s moans and sighs. Her scent blooms in the close space, and I know she is touching herself. To thoughts of me? Or is it still a part of our charade?
“Verrick, oh, Verrick! So good! So, so good! Verrick!”
I begin to harden beneath my warkilt. I cannot help it. I can see her, in my mind’s eye, touching herself to add to the ruse that we are together. She is bare in my vision, her braids fighting to escape from the silk wrap she put them in, her legs splayed open, one hand between her thighs and the other on a dusky nipple. I can see her smiling at me in invitation, her legs falling further apart.
She whines, a needy sound, weaving in time to the vision in my mind, and I cannot help it. My fist finds my cock, squeezing with a brutal grip, seeking for some relief. Unintelligible sounds come from Pellia’s mouth, going higher and higher as she seeks her peak. I give my cock a harsh pump, a cheap imitation of what it really wants.
Breathy whimpers intermingle with shouts and moans and on a high-pitched shriek of my name, Pellia comes, the scent of her lust exploding in the air around us. I do as well, barelymaking it into the chamber pot before my seed can splash all over the ground. The scent of our arousal mixes in that air and it smells good. Like sweet, willing woman, and raw fucking.
So wrapped up am I in the last vestiges of daydream that it takes me a moment to realize that everything has gone silent. and a light snore comes from the other side of the blanket. I realize in horror that Pellia means to finish here.
Stalking past the curtain to the furs, I lean over her sleeping form. She lays still; her wrap perfectly tied, her nightdress slightly askew on her shoulder. How can anyone fall asleep so quickly? Especially after such a release?
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
She jerks awake, startled, and I press my hand over her mouth so that she does not make a sound of shock. When she remains silent, big, dark eyes blinking at me over my large hand, I slowly remove it.
“Verrick?” she whispers, questioning. “What are you doing here?”
