Page 24 of The Princess and the Orc

Drogath hadn’t expected Amalia to embrace this part of orc tradition so willingly. Many human females balked at it, bound by their fragile sensibilities and human morality. But Amalia was different. In many ways, she was his perfect mate, a woman who met his dominance with fire of her own, a mate who possessed a streak of wildness that called to something deep and primal in him.

Tonight, she would prove it before all.

An essential part of the orc claiming ceremony, especially for rulers, was the consummation of the bond before the clan, a public display of their union, their compatibility. Their people needed to witness the strength of their pairing, to see her surrender and his possession, to know without question that she belonged to him and he to her.

He inhaled deeply, sifting through the myriad scents in the cavern—the smoky incense still curling in the air from the ceremony, the warm musk of the gathered orcs, the damp mineral tang of the cave itself. But beneath it all, cutting through like the sharpest blade, was her.

His mate.

The scent of her arousal, thick and unmistakable, reached him, tightening every muscle in his body. She was nervous, but excited. Anticipation rolled off her in waves, mixing with her scent in a way that sent a deep, possessive hunger surging through him.

He tilted her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Focus on me and nothing else. No one else is here.”

She grinned, mischief lighting her emerald eyes. “But they are here. And watching us. Kind of difficult to miss them.”

His thumb traced across her lower lip, feeling the slight hitch in her breath. “They’re here to witness and celebrate us.”

Her nervous laugh was breathy, laced with something raw. “Right. Our ceremonies are not like this.”

Drogath chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “No, they are not.”

With a firm hand at the small of her back, he guided her toward the ceremonial bench—a structure designed to elevate her hips, placing her at the perfect height for him to claim her properly. It was padded for her comfort, adjusted to her smaller size, since orc females were built larger.

His rough fingers ghosted down her spine, savoring the contrast of her softness beneath his touch. She shivered, her skin pebbling beneath his palm, her breath catching as she eyed the bench with a flicker of trepidation.

She knew what was expected of her.

She hesitated for only a breath before surrendering to it, draping herself over the padded surface with the grace of a queen, gripping the carved wooden posts at the base. Her legs parted, baring herself fully to him.

His cock throbbed at the sight.

He pressed a heavy hand to the inside of her thigh, nudging her knees wider, spreading her until her pussy was fully open to his view. A fresh rush of slick glistened against her thighs, betraying her arousal.

Drogath growled low in his throat, sinking a finger through her folds, gathering the evidence of her desire. She moaned at the contact, her hips twitching in a silent plea.

His lips curved. Not yet, mate.

He withdrew his hand and delivered a sharp slap to the curve of her ass, relishing the way she gasped, her body jerking at the sting. A fresh wave of cream leaked from her, proof of her enjoyment.

“Settle, mate,” he commanded, his voice rough with restraint. “I decide what you get. Do you understand?”

She nodded quickly. “Please, Drogath.”

He chuckled darkly. “Begging. Good. We’ll hear more of that before we’re done tonight.”

He slid a single finger into her, stroking her inner walls in a slow, torturous rhythm. Her thighs quivered, her grip on the bench tightening. His thumb brushed over her clit in a teasing circle, not enough to give her relief—just enough to drive her mad.

She whined, pressing back against him, desperate for more.

Drogath stilled. Then, without warning, he delivered five quick, stinging slaps to her ass, leaving her breathless, her moans dissolving into soft, desperate cries.

“Will you be still,” he rumbled, “or do I need to tie you down?”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

He knew she enjoyed being tied. They had experimented with it before, but tonight, she needed to surrender on her own.

She shook her head quickly. “I’ll be good, Drogath.”

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