Page 3 of Alien Orc Warlord's Captive Bride

He barks out something to his Orc warriors. Their lips draw back, showing their too-sharp teeth, then they run over the hillside, taking positions to guard their leader for whatever is happening next.

“I am Chieftain Ragnar. You belong to me now. You will not try to escape again.” I’m surprised to hear the common tongue come from his lips, accented and growly. His breath is hot on my ear.

He lets go of me, his handprint on my arm, testing to see if I will try to run.

Chieftain Ragnar.

The one man who has defied the lord who starved my village. I've heard tales of his raiding parties, of the north villages burnt by his forces, of women taken and turned into property. He stands, vital and huge, a man who rules his warrior tribe through force. He is the opposite of the wiry old Lord, who has others do his bidding.

“I won’t,” I say, my voice shaking.

“I’m going to make sure of that.” He stalks forward, and I try to run, but he grabs me. He lifts me like I’m a toy and sits down on a boulder, putting me over his lap.

I struggle and fight, but he holds me down easily, lifting the back of my wedding dress, exposing my fine lace undergarments. Black lace, chosen by Lord Ashbourne, and now they are the privileged view of the Orc king.

His huge, strong hand rests on my ass.

"You will not be harmed, if you do not try to escape. Your species starved us. I will… how to say it… trade you to the Lord Ashbourne in return for enough for my tribe to survive the winter." I more feel than hear his growly voice, deep and resonant.

“Please. I won’t try to escape again,” I gasp out, when his hand comes down on my ass.

Hard.

I cry out with surprise and pain, lurching forward, but he holds me easily, and his hand crushes into me again. My ass stings like fire ants biting my tender skin, and I twist, trying to get away.

I cry out again, and he holds me down easily. Slap after slap against my ass, heat flushing to my cheeks in humiliation as he punishes me without mercy. One of his Orc warriors chuckles under his breath as he hears me whimper.

Ragnar is hard and disciplinary, but then his voice catches, growling. His cock surges under me, this huge snake that throbs with lust for me.

The Orc Chieftain wants me. The other two Orc warriors are keeping watch, hand on their spears, looking out for any rescue.

There's none coming. Ragnar's huge, meaty hand rests on my stinging ass, then slowly strokes towards my pussy. A tingle of teasing sensation rushes through my body. My slit feels hot and eager, and I'm overwhelmed with primal lust and hate for the Orc, this combination that overwhelms me. I hate that he is forcing my body to react, hate that he is pretending to be disciplining me when in truth, he aches for my body, just like the cruel Lord who bought me.

He growls, a sound that sends a frisson through my body.

"You bastard, you're just like him," I snarl out, clenching my jaw, and he stops.

He takes in a huge, wracking breath. "You will address me as Chieftain." He raises his hand and brings it down again, hard, making my ass burn and tears come to my eyes. His thick cock is alive with desire, and I know that all he wants is to pin me down against the ground and rip through my innocence, claiming me as his.

The image of the Orc fucking me fills my mind.

He'd be rough and voracious, breeding me hard and without mercy. He'd take my innocence, and leave me a ruined, broken girl, only fit for his bed. The raging, treacherous desire as my body reacts in this primal way makes me fear that I'd moan as he held my delicate body down, my soft curves crushed under his muscular body, my tits bouncing until he finally came up my stretched slit.

My mind races. I thought I'd be taken this night, in the cold bed of an old man. I thought I would be distant and detached as I lost my virginity, and I swore to myself I would not cry. This is different. This is immediate, and I'm forced into the moment.

There’s no escaping his dominance. He’s too strong, too powerful…

But I bend my mind to my will, to find the words that will stop this, before it is too late.

"He won't take me back if I am not a virgin. Your tribe will starve, Chieftain," I say, my mind racing, and he freezes.

"I am not like that man," he snarls. "I would not take a woman I did not earn. You escaping could destroy my tribe. I had to make certain you would not." He stands, setting me down.

My cheeks are flushed red with humiliation, not just at being spanked, but how my body reacted to his dominance. I've never felt anything for a man, not like that.

I don't call him a liar. I won't, not when I know what it will earn, but I stare him straight in his green eyes, then let my eyes trail down his muscular body until I am at his tented loincloth. God, but he's huge, and I can see the outline of his inflamed member that aches for me. I look back at him, defiant, and he knows what I am saying without words. That he can pretend, but I know what he wanted.

"I will not try to escape again, Chieftain," I say, my voice so respectful it's mocking, as I plan my way out. I've been to the mountains twice before to hunt for mountain goats when my stomach gnawed so badly that it drove me from the safety of the village, and I dodged both patrols of soldiers and my first Orc as I stalked my prey.

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