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He shakes his head, some old pain on his face. I put my hand on his cheek to comfort him and he nuzzles into it, accepting my offering. “No, she wasn’t. I was, apparently, a source of great shame to her. She told me so, and to never come back . . . that next time I encountered any of her pod, she would have them kill me on sight. I washeryouthful folly, evidence of a time when she was seduced by a non-siren and she wanted to forget me. Especially since she was now mated to the pod chief. I tried to reason with her and she, rather than continuing the argument, screamed at me.”
I suck in a breath. Sirens are most known for their songs, theluresthey use to amuse themselves killing sailors, but it is also known that their screams are deadly. They scramble the brains and burst the blood of all who hear it. They are known asdeath screamsfor that reason.
He continues, “It was only for a second and I have some resistance to the effects since I am siren-born, but it still felt like nails were shredding the inside of my head. My hands went to my ears to stop the noise and my eyes closed of their own volition. When I opened them again, she was gone.”
I tie off his bandage, absorbing what he just told me. “Did she mean to kill you, do you think?”
He shakes his head. “I do not think so. She would have had to scream longer to truly hurt me. I think she just wanted to warn me off. It worked. I went back home, tail between my legs, with a deep anger in my heart. As they rejected me, I wanted to reject them, at least symbolically. And since I could not remove my patches of scales, I had them obscured by tattoos instead.”
He shrugs. “Like I said, a youthful rebellion. I do not mind the scales so much now.”
Poor young Verrick. My heart bleeds for the hurt he must have carried, the pain of rejection from his own mother. Why would a person have a child only to throw them away? It makesno sense to me, though I suppose I know that the world is complicated. Putting aside my errant thoughts, instead I move to kiss Verrick’s lips, trailing my fingers over the unbroken tattoo on his right arm.
He looks surprised. “What was that for?”
I smile and give another quick, teasing kiss. “Has no one ever comforted you after telling a hard tale before?”
Verrick shakes his head slowly. Oh, well, now I want to comfort him more. I take his face in my hands and slowly, gently, give him another kiss. There’s nothing lustful or passionate about it. It’s a caress, the solace of one soul giving support to another. Somehow, though, as it progresses, it still leaves me breathless as I part from him.
For a moment, Verrick regards me with deep, inscrutable eyes, and then we are kissing again. This time with tongue and little nips of teeth and tusk. I feel myself respond to his ardor, growing wet between my thighs. The orc Warchief groans, hauling me closer until I’m sitting on his lap.
“Always so hungry for your orc,” he growls against my lips, then captures them again in a searing kiss. I swear, if I weren't sitting, my legs would buckle.
“That’s not why I did this!” I protest, even as I kiss him back, tracing my tongue against his in a flirtatious sign that he takes, plundering my mouth with his tongue.
“Is it not?” he asks, hands coming behind my dress to pull at the laces of my dress and the brooches at my shoulders.
That gives me pause. “Verrick! You are hurt! You can’t possibly think . . .”
“I can,” he says, smoldering at me, “I can when I smell your arousal this strongly, even through your orikirileaf tea. Youneedme.”
Then his lips find my neck and almost all the thoughts fly out of my head. He pulls the dress and shift down my body and soon I am sitting on him naked while he is still fully clothed. I move to pull at his buckle, but he stills my hand.
“Patience, temptress. I have other games I want to play.”
Verrick, the most serious male I know, wants to play games. I look at him in surprise and a slow smile grows over his features. I feel myself becoming wetter just looking at him. He takes me and throws me down on the bed. I squeal in surprise as I bounce against the mattress and then laugh at his playfulness. Who is this orc?
Verrick leans over me, his chest barely rubbing against my nipples, and says, “Alright temptress, you have teased and tormented me for so long. It's my turn now. You are not allowed to come until I give you leave, alright?”
I open my mouth to protest when he begins to thrum, harder and louder than I have ever heard it before. Without even touching me, I feel myself growing wetter and wetter, the pleasure rising in my clit and deep in my core. Higher and higher, and then suddenly he stops right before my peak. I groan in frustration and buck my hips toward his, trying to find friction to ease my ache, but he just moves away slightly and chuckles darkly.
“No, temptress, not yet.”
Then he is thrumming again, and again I feel myself rising to the peak, only to be thwarted at the last minute. On and on this goes, with his thrumming teasing out my pleasure, only to be denied my orgasm. My body is on fire, every nerve sensitized. I buck and writhe and wail, but still he torments me.
Finally, I can take it no longer and my hands dive to my core, wanting to give myself the release that my body is screaming for. But Verrick’s powerful hands grab mine and hold them over my head in an iron grip.
“Naughty temptress. That cunt ismine, and I didn’t give you leave to touch it, did I?”
I whimper. “Please Verrick, no more! I can’t take it anymore!”
“Yes temptress, you can. And you will.”
The torture starts again, this time made more intense with Verrick holding me down. I cry out, begging and pleading as he thrums. Over and over. The minutes bleed together and soonI could not tell you how long he has kept edging me toward release and then denying me. All I am capable of isfeeling, every part of my body becoming an erogenous zone.
Finally, Verrick growls, a pleased and aroused sound. “Remember this feeling, temptress. Remember who mastered your body for your pleasure. And remember that this cunt is mine, to do with as I please.”
Then his fingers are pushing into me, and with just that one touch, I am coming. Coming harder than I ever have before, my back bowing off the bed. He pumps his fingers into my pussy, once, twice, three times, and then I feel his cock replacing them, sliding through my gushing release into my tight sheath. And I’m coming again and again, as if every orgasm he denied me are all coming at once, the moments bleeding together. Time loses all meaning again, until I am a replete quivering body underneath him as he comes as well, roaring his release.
