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I don’t want to stop to answer him, so I just tap his leg and suck again.
“Good huntress.”
With that, he unleashes his savagery. His pumps are still shallow, he is obviously being careful with me, but he picks up speed. Sometimes he goes a little far and I feel like I’m choking a bit, but I don’t hate the sensation, so I let it go. I lick and suck, careful of my teeth and fangs, pressing hard with my lips. Experimentally, I reach up with my hand, gripping the part that I can’t quite take with my mouth, so that the whole of his manhood is covered.
Marvik moans, “Perfect, huntress. You suck my cock too well. Squeeze lightly with your hand. Yes, just like that. Good huntress. You want me coming down that beautiful green throat of yours, don’t you? Coming like I’m filling up your pretty pussy.”
With deliberation, I intensify mysibilance, thrumming as hard as I can. His thrusts go wild after that, one going a touch too far. I go to tap his leg, but he is already coming in my mouth, a thick, creamy load this time. It overwhelms me and I have to stop thrumming so that I can swallow. Marvik softens in my mouth and when I am done swallowing I let him fall, flaccid out of my mouth. He tips up my chin, pulls down so that my mouth is open, looking at my now-empty tongue with a look of intense lust on his features.
Marvik pulls me up to my feet and kisses me, uncaring that I just swallowed his spend. It is a kiss full of warmth and appreciation and when he pulls back, his eyes are smoldering.
“Let me say thank you, huntress,” he says, the double-meaning of his words clear.
My mouth goes dry, thinking of his mouth on my center again, when the sun suddenly shines in my eyes. I look up and am surprised to see that it is already after mid-day.
I pull back and shake my head with a smile. “Not right now. Istill have snares to check and work to do before bed or there won’t be any dinner.”
Marvik just shoots me a sly grin. “Alright. Work now, but later, after dinner, I will show my gratitude properly.” He gives me one more meaningful look, then does up his trousers and picks up the hatchet, sauntering away toward a dead-looking tree.
Gods have mercy on me, I can’t wait for tonight.
???
Over the next week, Marvik and I fall into a pattern. We wake early, taking turns making breakfast and then split up the chores. I am more stealthy, so more often than not I am the one hunting, while Marvik forages for edible plants and chops wood. From his boyhood explorations he knows where several berry bushes and wild fruit trees grow and he picks plenty, laying out the extras on a flat rock so that they can dry in the sun and be stored for winter. We share an evening meal, talking about light, easy topics and then we retire to the cave. But rather than sleep, we take turns pleasuring each other with our hands and with our mouths.
I am getting better at sucking his cock, each night taking him deeper and deeper. I don’t have much of a gag reflex, so once I get over the initial feeling of choking, I start to enjoy it. The absolute power and control I have over him in those moments fuels my enthusiasm. And always Marvik reciprocates, making sure that I come multiple times before he stops.
It is a good week. A safe week. One where we focus only on what works in our relationship. That is, our physical compatibility. He does not ask me again if I trust him and I do my best not to bring up our rocky past. Every morning I wake up, half-expecting him to be gone, after everything, but each morning he is there in hisbedroll, an arms-length away. It still surprises me that he has chosen to be here with me, but my Mating Instinct is at peace because he has. Well, mostly at peace. The drive tobreed, to have his cock between my thighs is a never-ending ache, a desire that could drive me mad if I let it. But he is right, it is not wise to risk more of my heart with a human that I don’t trust, even if he is myAsh’ka.
We carry on this unspoken truce to only speak on safe topics until one night as we eat dinner, a repast of roast rabbit and wild root vegetables, Marvik breaks into the silence, asking, “So what are mates, anyway? To the elves and the orcs?”
I look at him incredulously. “You don’t know?”
The smile he gives me is small and a little wry. “I know what mating is, huntress. But mates? That’s not a human concept. Is it like husbands and wives?”
This is a fraught topic. Certainly with more weight than discussing tomorrow’s weather or today's snare catches, like we have been wont to do. I chew my bite slowly, considering my answer. I want to askwhyhe’s asking, whynow, but I feel like that is a trap. A way to start an argument again. As I swallow my food, I decide to answer him truthfully, but objectively, like the answer doesn’t have anything to do with us or our lives.
“Mates are everything,” I begin, “to the elves and the orcs. More than a husband or a wife. Once mates are bound together, there is no going back, no changing one’s mind, unlike the easily thrown-away marriages of some of the other races.”
“And how are mates bound together, then? Just by meeting?” he asks.
I squash the niggling beginning of suspicion in the back of my mind, that pressing question ofwhyhe’s asking these things, and answer, “It is different for elves and orcs. There are rituals for the elves, courting practices that bring theAsh’kascloser together until they can stand under a full moon with friends and family and speak the sacred vows that make their souls as one.”
“What does that mean?” interrupts Marvik. “For your souls to be as one?”
I consider my answer, not really knowing how to explain. “Elvish mates,Ash’kas, always have a sense of where their mate is. They know if they are safe or in danger. They understand each other and rarely argue. It is simply a knowing. They are as one . . . there’s really no other way to put it.”
Marvik nods, absorbing the information, then asks, “Are orc mates the same?”
“For orcs . . . it is darker, more primal. They spirit their chosen one away, to a place secluded, and chase them, breaking down their defenses until their chosen submits to the orc’s seduction. When that is complete, the orc gives their chosen a Mating Bite that seals them together as one.”
“Andthatmeans?” the human prompts.
I roll my eyes at the new interruption. “I was getting to that. Orc mates can feel each other's surface emotions. Not quite like reading thoughts, more like impressions. Also, an orc who Claims another like this can only have children with their chosen, cannot live without them, waste away without their mate . . .” I stop talking, realizing that I am giving away too many vulnerable things all at once. I need to remember to keep Marvik at arm’s length, until I can be sure of him and his intentions. But . . . we are working for trust, are we not? Maybe I should be less guarded, not more.
Marvik cocks his head. “Does the non-orc suffer such effects?”
“No,” I bite out, a stroke of fear going up my spine at the thought of Claiming Marvik only to leave me to suffer the wasting sickness from his loss. “They don’t.”
