Page 14 of Alien Orc Warlord's Captive Bride

Our breathing is in sync, his huge bulge resting against my ass, and there is no way I can sleep. I can feel his manhood growing and surging. It rubs against my slit from behind, and I'm soaking wet, and I can't stop myself from moaning. There’s only a tiny bit of cloth between me and him. It's humiliating, but the sound is not what betrays my lust. He can smell it emanating from me, the primal need to be taken by the Orc warlord.

His breath grows heavier, and he runs his hands over my body, taking my hard nipples in my hands and gently stroking, making me writhe, grinding my slit against his manhood. My loincloth unwraps as we grind together, and I don’t reach down to pull it up, as the teasing pleasure of his massive cock pressing against my pussy lips drives me insane. His cockhead is so fucking hard, too big to be contained by his loincloth, and it slips under the cloth, pressing against my naked pussy. Then he pinches my nipples. Hard. He has a brutal side to his desires, squeezing too hard, then grabbing my entire breasts with his massive hands and hurting me.

I moan out in pain and pleasure. It's too intense, too perfect, this mix of protectiveness and ownership, and I want to feel him let go, to lose control to the darkest of his desires and pin me down and take me as his own. My body aches for it as my mind screams in self-loathing for what I need.

"I'm worthless if you ruin me," I gasp out, terrified, aching for him, knowing that if he fucks me, I'll never be the same again. It won't just be that I would be ruined to any other man.

If he tied me up and fucked me for his own pleasure, it would be one thing.

To have my own need displayed, my shameful lust for my captor exposed, will make me hate myself forever.

"Your worth is not what lies between your legs," growls Ragnar, his fingers slipping down, brushing against my bellybutton, closer and closer to my needy slit. His cock is straight out between my legs from behind, so that I can feel the hard, steel rod against the folds of my pussy lips. He grunts and removes my loincloth completely, throwing it aside.

"Your tribe, Ragnar. Don't damn them," I gasp, spitting out any reason to delay this another second, so that I will not be destroyed. He grinds his cock back, and the head spits out pre-cum, as if it is designed to prepare me for his too-big manhood.

His finger finds my clit, and circles. No man has touched me in this way. He is hungry, his tongue lapping at my neck, his lips gently kissing my earlobe as I feel his breath hot and needy.

"The smell of your need is my drug," he growls in my ear, and I whimper out, grinding up and down his huge, rock-hard shaft as his fingers quicken their circling, faster and faster, my body moving uncontrollably. He's put me in heat. His sweat reeks of power, lust, masculinity, this overpowering blend of testosterone and war that makes my head swirl.

With a growl, he can resist no more. He grabs me, pressing me onto my back, and opens my legs. His hands are rough and calloused, warrior's hands used to hefting a sword, not delicate human flesh. I can see the gleam of my pussy, my need betrayed, and I want him more than I've wanted anything. I stare up at the brutal titan. His chest is sculpted and cut, the scar running from his abs to his heart only makes him look more fierce. He places hands so huge they could crush my skull with a squeeze on my thighs, opening me up for him. His cock is so hard it looks like it could explode with a single touch, the veins running down the sides of his green rod pulsing with each beat of his heart.

"I am not like Lord Ashbourne," snarls Ragnar, fighting against his lust, fighting against every instinct in his body that tells him to ram his massive Orc cock into me and split me open. "I can smell your need, Aira. I can taste how badly you need this. Say it!"

I can't lie to myself any longer. His face is rugged, jaw clenched with lust, hard lips pulled back to show the sharpness of his bright white teeth, his nostrils flared as he drinks in the scent of my lust. I'm burning for him, my pussy tingling. His stink intensified, pheromones filling my nostrils, overwhelming me with his brutality and agonizing hunger for my body.

He roars his command out, and I tremble, his hands squeezing tighter around my thighs, so hard it hurts, showing my desperate pussy to the alpha. "I need it," I gasp, aching to feel that massive cock inside of me.

His lips curl back in a smile of victory, then he lowers his head, his black, tangled mass of hair slick and sweaty as he extends his tongue and laps at my pussy. It is like he is starving.

"Ragnar," I gasp, as his fierce green eyes stare up at me and he feasts. He runs his tongue up and down my virgin pussy, tasting the nectar of my desire, and my eyes roll back in ecstasy as I grind my slit against his tongue, my hips bucking uncontrollably. There is a fever of a desire taking over me. He drinks in the juices of my need.

I try to find something to grab hold of, anything, something to center me as I lose my mind, gripping the furs tight, but then I need to touch him. I grip his tangled mass of sweaty black hair, grasping tight, as he spreads me open, his tongue sliding deeper into me. Then he pulls his head back and forms his huge tongue into a point, centred on my clit.

The juices of my pussy and his hot saliva mix together, sliding down my slit and over my ass as I pull my hips up to meet his tongue. His breathing is deep, rough, and I feel my orgasm welling up.

A scream erupts from me as I cum on his tongue, and he doesn't stop, lapping furiously, faster and faster, forcing every ounce of pleasure out of me. He presses me down into the soft fur of the beds as he laps against my too-sensitive clit, until his tongue slows.

He kisses my clit, gentle, tender, then kisses his way up my stomach, each nipple, then my neck as I pant. Our bodies are sweaty, but the paints do not run as he moves me so that he is behind me again. He pulls me tight against his body. His cock is still rock-hard, between my legs like I am sitting on a log, and he runs his fingers over me lovingly.

I sink into his might. He's fierce. Brutal.

But he is not like Lord Ashbourne.

And when I am sent off and ransomed, I know what I will be thinking of when that bastard takes my virginity.

8

RAGNAR

The morning light spills in through the huge oval window, over Aira in my arms. She undid her braids before bed, her golden hair spilling out and framing her face. My arms are around her. She is soft, her skin warm, her body athletic yet curvy and fertile in a way that drives me wild. She is asleep, peaceful, and I resist the urge to run my fingers over her cheek, not wanting to wake her. Her chest rises and falls as the birds sing their dawn chorus. I gently extract myself from her.

I look down at her and feel the gulf of emptiness. I never want to see my bed empty again, and yet, soon, she will be gone.

She is at peace now, but I've only brought her torment. Aira is strong, but I saved her from the cruel Lord only for a moment, because today I must send the soldier out to give a message to Ashbourne. My tribe is but one of the Orc groups in different mountains, and we have an uneasy relationship with humans. I have heard tale of wars farther north, where the more brutal tribes, who kidnap and pillage, are stamped down by attacks, but I always led my men to be defensive, hunting and protecting our lands instead of making raids.

I don a fresh loincloth and pull on a cloak. Will Aira be cold, when I am gone? I lean down to pull more furs over her body, but I have to pause to admire her. The red inks swirl on her body, accenting her curves, drawing my attention to her perfect, sensitive nipples. I love the way she moans when I play with them, how she reacts to my hands over her body. There's this new fullness in my balls. I did not sate myself in her last night, though every sense in my body urged me to take her innocence, to bind her to me for eternity.

I could sense her resistance. That alone stopped me. That despite her body burning for me, taking her last night would have put a chasm between us that could never be breached.

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