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“You’re right,” I answer, feeling myself being pulled toward him and tilting my head, “thatisselfish.”
Lips descend on mine, kissing me with savage force, a ghost of our first kiss. I am stunned and I whimper at the onslaught. My thrum escapes, my Mating Instinct howling with victory. It only takes a moment for me to kiss him back, to match his passion with my own. I . . . I . . . believe him. Without even checking his scent. Maybe that makes me a fool, but I do. He showed me with his actions when he came and found me, when he could have done anything else in the world. He wants to see if this works, what we could be. Maybe he is even starting to believe that he is myAsh’ka. That I am his. It is everything that I was too afraid to hope for.
“Yes, huntress,” Marvik murmurs against my lips as I thrum, his clever fingers coming to the belt at my waist, “make your sweet music and I will draw out more.”
My trousers slide down my hips easily as my makeshift rope belt comes undone, pooling around my ankles. His hands come to the hem of my tunic, lifting it and exposing my wet center to the air, all while kissing me, bruising my lips with his ardor. My own hands come up eagerly to the ties of his trousers and start working on them as well. Yes, I want this. I want him inside me.
His fingers find my center and brush my clit. I buck into his hand, kicking off my trousers and finally free his manhood from its cloth confines. I pull back from our kiss and find him flushed and aroused, beautiful.
“Get inside me,” I command, bracing on his shoulders and pulling his hands to support my hips so that my legs can wrap around him. He easily lifts me, pushing me up against the tree. The thick wool of my tunic protects my back from the bark, though I can’t say that I would care even if I were naked. The need I feel for him is overwhelming, the Mating Instinct pushing me to become one with him again. Marvik notches his thick, jutting cock at my entrance.
Yes, yes, yes,I chant internally, tilting my hips to make his access easier. He is about to enter me when he catches my eyes, burning me with his wanting gaze.
“Huntress,” he asks, “do you trust me?”
Things go still in me, my ardor pausing for the space of a breath. Do I trust him? I didn’t. I want to. But I have been telling myself for days that Ican’t. Even if I believe him right now, is that the same as trusting him?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, fearing that I will ruin the moment. My fears are realized when he sighs and carefully sets me down.
“Until we have trust between us, I think that sex will only make things complicated.”
I groan at his words, frantic in my need. “It is not fair for you to rile me up like this only to leave me wanting!”
Marvik chuckles darkly, dropping to his knees in front of me. “I never said that I would leave you wanting, my huntress. Just that we should not have sex.”
Before I can ask what in the Nether the difference is, he takes one of my legs and puts it over his shoulder.
“Did I do anything you didn’t like last time we were together?” he asks at my feet.
I shake my head. “Nothing. I liked everything.”
“Even my crass words?” He raises a brow.
I feel myself blush. “Especially your crass words.”
“Thank fuck,” he says, then, with great deliberation, he licks my wet, needy pussy.
Now he is the one who groans, “You taste too good, huntress. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever eaten.”
He dives back in, licking with enthusiasm and my pleasure ratchets up, as well as my thrum. How this differs from sex and how it won’t complicate things just as much, I have no idea, but I would die before stopping his magic ministrations.
“Gods,” he says between licks, “you vibrate against my tongue.”
Marvik takes my clit between his lips and sucks, and my back arches off of the tree. My one standing leg starts to shake, but there is no way that I am asking him to stop. I feel two fingers push inside me and begin pumping ruthlessly. He licks and sucks and licks some more. His fingers curl and my hands find his head, pushing him more firmly into my wet warmth. I am close to coming, my orgasm galloping toward its peak. Then he nips my clit, ever so lightly, and I come, my release coating his fingers. But he doesn’t stop. He adds another finger and begins again. His other hand comes up and starts tracing around the hood of my clit, even as he is still licking. He is like a musician playing my body masterfully and Ishout as another orgasm takes me.
My leg collapses, and he grabs it, putting over his other shoulder. I am now sitting against the tree, held up only by its bulk and Marvik’s broad, muscular shoulders. My thrumming is out of control. He gasps and growls against my pussy, still brutally pumping with his fingers. They curl and begin rubbing a textured place within me that almost feels like too much. But I ride the tidal wave of feeling, letting him do what he likes with me, another climax building until it bursts, surprising me with its intensity. Only once the last tremor has left me, does he slow down, massaging my insides gently as he laps up my juice with the flat of his tongue, more soothing than arousing now.
I am satisfied, at least as satisfied as I can be without his fat cock inside me. I exhale deeply and, after a moment, take one leg tentatively off his shoulder. It shakes a little with the force of the aftermath of my pleasure, but I can stand, so I take the other off as well. When I am standing and my tunic falls back into place, I look down at Marvik, who lazily grins at me with a glistening mouth, the picture of a smug male. He knows how hard he made me come.
“Let’s go home, huntress,” he says, still smiling.
It takes me a moment to realize he is talking about the cave, not my actual home in Orik. A wave of homesickness takes me, but I brutally shove it down where I can’t feel it. Instead, I nod and reach out a hand to help him to his feet. He takes my hand and I pull him upright. Then I grab my trousers, pulling them back on and tying my rope-belt. Finishing putting myself back together, I notice the little cut I gave him accidentally and instinctually send some healing into him from our joined hands. The cut disappears and Marvik closes his eyes, as if enjoying the sensation. His trousers are still down, untied like I left them, and I can see his still-hard member, weeping a bit with his arousal, jerk a little. My healing arouses him, now? Or at least feels good enough that it enhances hisarousal. That is good information to know. Marvik bends to get his trousers, but hisses a little as he pulls them over his sensitive cock.
“Do you . . . do you want my help with that?” I ask, a little hesitantly. I have never sucked cock before, though I have of course heard of the practice. Once, before Rognar was king, I even walked in on him getting sucked off by a maid. An incident that horrified and embarrassed us both. That was a long time ago, though. He couldn’t afford dalliances after he ascended the throne, for the same reason that I couldn’t when I became Keeper and the General of the Southern Horde. When one is in power, it is hard to know who to trust.
But though I am inexperienced, I find that I want to put my mouth on Marvik. I remember the salty taste of his spend and want to taste it again. Perhaps my enthusiasm will make up for the fact that I am not skilled.
Marvik merely gives me another smile. He is free with such expressions now. It is hard to remember now there was a month where he would only give me his stone face and calculating eyes.
