Page 34 of Alien Orc Warlord's Captive Bride

I stare down. I never thought I'd see anything like this, his huge, green cock throbbing at full strength, the head a deep, dark purplish green, filled with blood. Sweat drips down between the ridges of his chiseled abs. He is a monster of a man, and his dick throbs again, wetting my already soaking pussy with his pearly pre-cum, and he cannot resist any longer.

Ragnar thrusts forward, his hips powering his cock forward, and I stare straight into his green eyes that blaze like twin suns, biting my lip as he stretches open my inner pussy lips, his cock harder than steel, this throbbing, almost vibrating monster of a thing that forces its way past my resistance. There is a sharp, quick pain as he rips through my innocence, taking my virginity and linking me to him forever, but his cock throbs again, spitting more pre-cum into me, and it soothes me instantly, as if it is made to allow his massive Orcish cock to claim my too-tight human hole.

Ragnar kisses me, our tongues dancing together, but he's unable to stop himself, to slow himself down or let me adjust to his size. His cock keeps impaling me, deeper and deeper, filling me as he claims ownership of me in front of his loyal warriors. My chest heaves as he advances into me, an inch, two, my eyes rolling back in the intense pleasure as the Orc warlord takes me.

They start to chant. It is low at first, this deep, rumbling hum, felt more than heard, and as Ragnar pulls back out, it lowers in volume. When he thrusts, the Orcs roar out in triumph. I melt under the alpha as he pulls back and thrusts again, gripping tight around his neck as his huge hands squeeze my ass painfully hard, so that I know he will leave handprints, each thrust deeper than the last.

This is nothing like his tongue on me. There, I felt some semblance of control, but as he stretches me open, invading me and linking me to him, I am reduced to nothing but lust and love, a bitch in heat for the alpha as he growls, running his tongue along my neck as he enters me fully, until his huge, grapefruit-sized balls are pressed against my asshole. The chorus of the Orc warriors is growing, the low hum deepening, thrumming as he pulls back out and slams his dick into me. I scream out in pleasure, my eyes rolling back, as my orgasm builds and builds. Each hard thrust of his war hammer of a cock makes his huge, full balls slap against my tight asshole, his cock so thick that there is a flash of sensual, aching pain as he stretches me open anew, the pain only making me hotter, sweat dripping down my body as he squeezes me against his powerful chest. I'm on the edge of ecstasy in his arms, staring into those green orbs that see only me, and his cock stiffens even harder.

His smell fills my nostrils, his bright green eyes fill my sight, and the humming chant of the Orcs mixes with his growls of pleasure and need, all of my senses filled by Ragnar, the world disappearing until only we exist. His sweat drips onto my body, and I will stink of him, primal, wild and viral, marking me as his territory. His body is on fire, hot against me, and I buck like a wild horse being tamed, grinding myself against him though I can barely move an inch in his powerful hands.

Ragnar roars, and every one of his Orc warriors joins the battle scream of triumph, echoing out into the night like wild beasts as I cum on his cock, my pussy clenching, as if my body is milking the alpha, and my release sends him over the edge. He seeds me, jets of cum that I feel unleashing deep inside me, an endless stream of his alien cum. He grabs my ass cheeks, hard, and presses me against him, his huge balls twitching as they unload every drop of his seed so deep inside me.

He slides his arms up, wrapping them around me, holding me tight to him as I rest my head on his shoulder, his cock still twitching, slowly softening inside me, but so thick and huge that his seed cannot drip from my stretched slit. He holds me up easily with one hand under my ass, the other running through my hair, over my cheek, and he kisses me again, deep and long, savoring the moment as the Orcs cheer.

My legs are shaking, trembling nonstop from my orgasm as the afterglow of my release fills me with a golden warmth. "I don't..." I try to tell him I don't think I can walk, but my words fail me.

He senses it, and strides with me still in his arms, his cock still inside me, walking me away from the great hall, where the sounds of feasting and celebration intensify, yet as we walk away, they reduce to a low roar. He opens the door to his home and leads me inside, until we are alone.

We collapse together in his bed of furs, spent and sweaty, still connected. His eyes are heavy-lidded with pleasure, and he pulls me close, wrapping me up in his strong arms.

He runs his fingers through my hair and stares into my eyes. "Did it hurt, my love?”

I shake my head. "No. It didn't. I don't know why. I should be hurting right now, you're so big," I say, and smile. "There's something in your seed that soothes me."

He grins, showing his sharp teeth. "Good. Because I want to be inside you forever, my love," he says, and his cock starts to stiffen inside me again. My eyes widen in shock.

"So soon?" I gasp. "I thought men needed a break."

"You ignite me, Aira. All I can think about is seeding you. From the first time I saw you, watching you in your village, I knew you belong to me." He groans, low and deep, in ecstasy and aching need, as his dick swells up inside me. I'm filled with his seed, and he slowly grinds his body against mine, pressing it deeper and deeper inside of me as writhe together, our hands exploring each other's bodies, breathing in each other's scent, and tears of joy fill my eyes.

"I love you, my mate," he says, and I kiss him hard, deep, before breaking it off.

"I love you, Ragnar," I say, and his dick swells up to its full length, stretching me deliciously. The stars twinkle through the oval window, and I know that we're not going to leave this bed of his for a week.

21

AIRA

"Agood strike!" booms out Ragnar, as Star hits his leg with a wooden sword. She's only four, but she's already shown an aptitude for fighting, and a clever mind when it comes to getting extra honey-drenched strawberries and meat. She's got sharp little teeth in her mouth, but Silga made me a poultice that I rubbed over my breasts, a thick, harmless substance that soothed my skin when I breastfed. Star giggles, her little face wrinkled with glee, her tongue stuck out as she backs away, holding the wooden sword tight. She has light brown hair the color of wheat before harvest, and I never knew I could love anyone so much.

I groan, shifting my bulk. I'm like a whale with his second born, and the seers of his tribe told me that this one will be a boy, but I know, deep inside, he'll be a man who creates and grows, rather than a warrior. My belly is firm like a ripe melon. I was terrified of the first pregnancy, knowing how big a half-Orc baby could be, but I had her in the midwife's home, as the other women of the village chanted around me, bolstering my strength.

The changes of the Orc pregnancy are intense and unexpected. My breasts have swollen up three times their size, and my nipples toughened, laden with milk for the strong babe. I can just picture my son. He'll have the jet-black hair of Ragnar, and his toes will curl up when I touch his feet, his little green fingers will wrap around mine.

"I got you!" yells Star, and jumps forward with her blade, but Ragnar picks her up, twirling her in the air as she explodes into giggles. Silga smiles next to me, her own belly swollen up, and her four hard nipples have extended slightly, her flat chest swelling up as her breasts grow for her pregnancy. She gave up falcon training, focusing on plant medicine, and her paints are a chorus of vines and flowers that wrap around her entire body, beautifully detailed.

"Ulric is going out into the mountains today to get us winter berries," she says with a smile. "Oh, how I've been craving winter berries," she says.

Poor Ulric. Silga and him were wedded last fall, and he's been doting on her every need, just like Ragnar for me, but despite how much she protests, he insists on making trips out to the glaciers where he has to dig through ten feet of ice and snow just to get a handful of the deliciously sweet berries that are hidden below. The spring sun is heavy above, and those berries ripened all last summer, their sweetness stored in their skin during the freezing winter. It was not a brutal winter, with a gnawing belly, but a full one, meat roasting and weekly feasts, Orc children throwing snowballs at each other while the patrols stalked the mountain, ever watchful, each outfitted with a new rifle and a sword or axe, but no enemies ever surfaced. Ragnar told me that the King has given up trying to fight us, focusing his efforts on the brutal, raiding tribes to the north, the Orc warlords who live in the harshest climates through the strength of their swords alone, casting away all technology or thought of farming to live their violent lives.

"He spoils you," I say.

"Of course. Just like Ragnar spoils you. It's only right," she says, with a huge smile. Her green cheeks are ruddy, her long black hair in two perfect braids. My own hair has grown in the four years, but my braids will never rival hers.

I run my finger over my collarbone. I no longer have the silver paint of blades. There are fox designs, smaller now, and instead, the imagery is of a rising sun. Some of the Orc call me Queen Aira, but some call me Dawn. It's a nickname I don't mind, though the flattery sometimes makes me blush—they told me that their tribe was in cold and darkness, and that I brought out the new dawn. The sun's light glows on the valley, warming the new growth of spring, grass sprouting up and mountain flowers filling the fields.

I look out at the village. There are rows of gardens, filled with grapes that create a fine wine that we trade with one of the far southern villages. Twenty oxen are grazing placidly, and there are newborns, guarded jealously by their mothers. The bridge has been restored, and there are new homes growing up, built from strong pine wood. There's baby fever in the Orc village, couples pairing up as if by instinct when the stores are filled and the crops abundant.

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