Page 35 of The Orc's Rage

When Kargorr lay down next to her many hours later, he didn’t touch her before he fell asleep. Cedar drifted off, wondering what she had done wrong.

Kargorr

She’d been so beautiful with her head tossed back, her hair fanned out behind her, her mouth open and her pleasure streaming from it. As Kargorr’s blood rage faded, as she sapped the fury and violence from his body through his cock, he had wanted nothing more than to sink himself fully inside her, for hissargato find their home in the soft squeeze of her cunt.

He almost did, against his will.

What was it about this little fleck of a human woman that made hissargaache to fill her? He had almost truly coupled with her, and at that moment, he understood what he’d been doing wrong.

Lord Kargorr had grown too close to her, much too close. He had let Cedar inside himself, and she was burying her claws deep. If he wanted to achieve his goal, he had to hide her away from his own eyes.

In the night, Cedar awoke frequently to dress so she could take her kitten outside and feed it. Each time, she returned to the pile of furs, keeping a safe distance away from him. How was she so soft and yet tough, so sharp-edged but also sensitive?

She understood what he had said with no words, and it had hurt her. She had seen right through him. It was unsettling.

But she had her place, and she would learn it. He would make sure of that from now on.

Lord Kargorr left the next morning before she awoke and set out to begin the unloading. They had brought home more goods than theparogcould possibly use, but he had been high on his victory and his blood had been hungry. Perhaps they could trade their extra goods to anotherparogand work toward earning their trust. Trade was rare, but it did happen from time to time, particularly where steel and iron were concerned. Thegrrosekdidn’t waste their time mining ore from the ground, but stole it when they needed it, making it valuable and desirable.

As Kargorr and his warriors worked, he spotted Cedar with her new kitten on a leash, taking it from one place to the next while a pair of orclings followed her. The pet had been a smart decision on his part. Now she was occupied and had a place to direct her attentions while he was gone. He watched them for a moment longer, until one of his warriors approached him with a concern about how they planned to butcher the cows.

Lord Kargorr turned away. He had business to attend to.

That night, there was a great celebration for the raid’s success. Everyone ate until they couldn’t eat any longer and then danced and sang into the stars. As the ale flowed, the rutting began. Cedar remained seated on his lap, as she was supposed to, but she didn’t lean back and settle into him, as he had expected. She stayed still and straight, never looking at him, and Kargorr supposed it was for the best. It would make it easy to distance himself from her, to put her in the place she belonged. Occasionally she took a drink or reached down to pet her cat where it lay at their feet, but that was all.

Kargorr shook his head and downed more mead. But as his head grew fuzzy, all he wanted washer, and he couldn’t banish the thought from his mind. Soon he grew tired of the revelry and leaned in to Cedar’s ear.

“It is time for bed, little deer,” he said, keeping his voice soft for her. She removed herself from his lap, picked up her kitten, and walked on ahead of him to the tent without looking back. Somewhere in his gut, it stung.

He wandered into the tent behind her, noting how he had damaged the door last night. He would have to have that fixed.

Inside, Cedar was putting her pet to bed, and he approached her from behind to place his hands on her shoulders. She fell completely, perfectly still, like a figurine.

“Have you named it?” he asked, hoping he could find a crack in her hard armor. If there was one, it would be here, at the juncture of his gift.

She nodded sharply. “Yes. His name is Kiya.”

Kargorr furrowed his brow. “Kiya?” he asked, truly befuddled. It was a familiar word, one that meant... “As in, excrement?”

Cedar whirled around and gaped at him. “No! It means ‘smoke.’ That’s what Rathka told me.”

He couldn’t help it. Kargorr snickered at the woman’s gall. She had lied to Cedar, and his human had eagerly believed her.

“Smoke issikida,” he said, shaking his head. “Kiyaare the droppings we leave behind when we’ve had too much to eat.”

His amusement faded when Cedar looked down at the sleeping kitten and her lips pursed together. She had tried to give it an Orcish name, and he felt honored. His gift was appreciated, and the animal’s name was her way of showing it. Now she looked like someone had stomped on her favorite toy.

“He will be a fine steed regardless of his name,” Kargorr said at last, and kneeled beside her over Kiya’s sleeping form.

“I’m keeping it,” she said with a stubborn jut to her jaw. “I think it’s pretty.”

Lord Kargorr kept his laugh to himself. The beer and the mead were swirling in him now, though, and the sight of his people making merry, their cries carrying throughout theparog, made him want to join in.

“That will show Rathka,” he said at last, and finally, she rewarded him with a smile.

When Kargorr took her that night, he gave in. He looked in Cedar’s eyes and drank them up as he sank himself inside her, again and again. When she came around his cock, she didn’t look away, as if beckoning him and daring him at the same time.

He matched her, keeping their gazes locked as he released himself deep in her body, and he wondered if any of his spend had found its way to her womb.

---