Page 34 of The Orc's Rage

They attacked as the sun crept up above the distant mountains, while the air was still cool and wet. Lord Kargorr charged into homes, killing every human he encountered with a wide swing of his axe. When the scent of death hit his nose, the blood rage began.

Now his vision was narrowed to a single point: the battle in front of him. He roared with his fury as he tore into another house, and screams rose in an orchestra from all around the village.

Never had his blood run so hot and fast in his veins as it did now. All those nights burying himself in Cedar’s sweet cunt had poured hot oil on the fire that burned inside him until it was a raging frenzy. He was fury incarnate as he sliced his enemies in two, leaving nothing living in his wake. This was the power of thegrrosek, his blood sang. This was what befell those who had taken what was his.

It wasn’t until the entire village lay dead that he remembered his plan. He had intended to acquire more humans like Cedar, someone else to bring to his bed and fill with orclings. He’d gotten too caught up in the glory of it, in the sheer exuberance of victory, that he’d forgotten all about it.

That wouldn’t do. He ought to be encouraging his warriors, too, to take concubines, but the blood rage had taken over all of them. A reddish hue pulsed in their eyes, as he imagined it did in his, and they roared with each fresh kill. It was time to return home with their spoils.

“Round up every horse we can find,” he called as they gathered in the town square. Only one of his warriors had suffered an injury, but she cleaned off her blood with a hand and licked it, then bellowed in honor of her new scar.

Once they had yoked the horses to wagons and filled them with every last bit of food, gold, or clothing they could find, Kargorr’s party mounted their new prizes and began the trip home.

All the while, his blood rage filled his ears with the pounding beat of his heart, his cock throbbing in time. After riding hard for hours, theparogcame into view, and he urged his horse on at a gallop.

There was only one way to slake his rage, to quell his need, and her name was Cedar.

18

Cedar

The sound of tearing awoke her.

Cedar blinked her sleep-filled eyes as a great, dark shape entered the tent, his face lit only by the torch in his hand.

“Kargorr,” she murmured as the massive orc dumped the torch into the fire pit. The leather of the tent door had ripped and now hung limp behind him. There was an eerie glow in his eyes, much like the moment Lissa’s dead body fell to the ground at his feet.

Kiya hissed when he woke and scrambled off the bed as Kargorr approached. The massive orc’s teeth were clenched, the fire now swelling up behind him as the torch’s flames caught on the coals in the firepit, bathing his face in shadow while the point of his ears and the tips of his long hair glowed bright red. Cedar felt compelled to flee, to scrunch herself up small in the back of the tent like a rabbit looking into a wolf’s mouth. And yet her body was fiercely, wildly awake now, stirred up by the curl of his fingers, how his black claws reflected the firelight. His tusks looked especially sharp and cruel, like scythes protruding from that heavy, jutting lower jaw.

He grabbed the fur on top of her and flung it aside. Cedar was naked underneath, as he insisted she sleep. A dark growl rumbled in his throat when he saw her exposed. Kargorr yanked down his bloodstained pants to reveal that monster between his legs, the one that was bigger and fuller than she’d ever seen it.

Lord Kargorr didn’t bother with his armor. He kept it on as he pinned her down, his huge hands swallowing up both her wrists at once as he held them up over her head.

A whimper escaped Cedar at the scent of him, so familiar and yet tinged with another smell, something more sour.

Blood. It covered him, even his face, and when he smashed his mouth to hers, she could taste it on his lips. His claws buried themselves so deep in her soft flesh he almost pricked her skin. With a jerk he lifted her hips, his eyes wilder than she’d ever seen them, and his cock sought her out.

“Mine,” he grunted, the head dragging over her clit as it searched for her entrance. “Mine.”

That seemed to be the only word he was capable of uttering. Then he found his prize, and Cedar gasped at how wet she was already, how that broad head slid into her. But he’d spent no time preparing her, so his first deep thrust was brutal, forcing her open. A cry slipped out of her as he yanked his cock back and then plunged it in a second time. He was merciless, and her body devoured it. Still her wrists were trapped in his hand as he took her, claimed her, fucked her into oblivion. His cock scoured every last inch of her for pleasure, squeezing it out of her.

Cedar almost didn’t notice when he finished inside her because he barely slowed his pace, but the sound of each of his thrusts grew wetter and more obscene.

“Soon,” he growled between pumps of his hips, “you will be fat and ripe with my orcling. And you will never, ever leave me.”

These words seeped into her slowly, hovering on the fringes of her vision as her entire body began to squeeze tight. She cried out again and again as he sank into her deeper with every stroke, until those lumps at the base of his cock were urging her even wider.

Kargorr hissed, and suddenly shallowed his movements, snarling something in his tongue that she couldn’t understand. Abruptly he pulled out of her, then flipped her over with very little effort, so her face was in the furs. Then he slammed into her with abandon, and that tiny dot of light in front of her exploded, blinding her. She was at the mercy of her body, of its culmination, and behind her, Kargorr roared as she clamped down around him. And still he kept fucking her, using her until she had given herself over to wave after wave of excoriating bliss.

But those swells at the root of his length didn’t prod at her again. When he jammed himself deep, she could feel the hot rush of his seed inside her, but it made her feel cold.

She wished she could have seen his face as it happened, but he had turned her away—intentionally.

He hadn’t wanted to look at her. Why?

As Kargorr collapsed to the bed behind her, all his muscles twitching, unease prickled Cedar’s skin. Soon, he got off the bed and opened the tent flap, roaring some command for anyone who could hear. Someone returned, and gave him a mug full of beer, and he sat in his chair to drink it.

Kiya shivered in the corner of the tent, clearly frightened by the activity, so Cedar crept over to the kitten and picked him up, soothing him with soft strokes on his head. Lord Kargorr’s eyes remained steadfastly looking nowhere as she returned to the furs, Kiya in her arms, and curled up with him.

---