Page 21 of One Night with Her Untamed Orc
Six Months Later
The kitchen island counter is covered end to end with papers. Emma, half-perched on a barstool, scribbles furiously with her silly purple pen. When she ran out of ink at the first snowfall, I trekked all through Moonfang looking for a blasted purple pen replacement. Betty, the librarian, who loves all the book requests Emma puts in week after week, happened to have a purple pen in her office. Now, I have stockpiled them in the closet. We will never run out of purple ink again.
Emma’s pink tongue peaks out of her mouth, meaning she’s deep in concentration. Without a word, I make a fresh cup of tea and set it beside her, moving some papers out of the way. She grunts her thanks and continues to scribble as I make my way out to continue preparing seed trays in the greenhouse Poros and I built.
The transition from being alone, telling myself I like to be alone, to being mated and blissful hasn’t been seamless, but it’s been achallenge worth overcoming. Her sister, Mary, visits way more frequently than I would like. But it makes Emma happy to have her here.
We divided the living room and my reading chairs into his and hers “reading for research and pleasure.” Though I bought her a desk to fit on her side, she still continues to do her work at the kitchen counter. She also continues to be flabbergasted every time I make a loaf of sourdough bread.
Once she got over being sad and furious at being fired, she made a plan. She’s been writing a book about her eel research, and has started an online channel documenting her research and educating people on the sea life here.
Watching her put down roots with me and bloom in her work has been satisfying. As has spending every night with her.
When I come in to warm up, the sky is heavy and gray. “Snow tonight,” I announce as I carry wood in for the fireplace.
The wood falls out of my arms, clattering onto the floor, echoing through the space, as I take in the naked woman beforeme. My tongue tangles, unable to find the sophisticated words I want to express.
“I finished!” she says, bouncing with excitement, breasts buoyant. I lick my lips. “And now we celebrate.”
“I—I—yes, let’s.” She giggles at my stutter, then runs and jumps at me, wrapping her arms and legs around me. “You're so cold!”
“The greenhouse is unheated,” I explain.
“Yes, but you own a coat.”
At that, I snort. A coat is just a thick shirt. No, thank you. “Then I guess you’ll have to warm me up.”
Emma lets go and slides down me. My eyes roll back in my head at the feel of her hot, heavy breasts sliding down my chest. Gods, this woman. Adjusting my pants, I bend to pick up the wood. It’s only when I stand again that I realize Emma already has the fire toasty and warm. My good girl.
Wood stacked on the hearth, Emma directs me to my reading chair. I grunt, admittedly a little disgruntled that I’m not taking her straight to bed. But this is her celebration, I guess.
“Tarik! Pants off!” Hands on her hips in front of me, she sounds annoyed, but her face beams with a gorgeous smile.
“Oh, my apologies.” I stand and remove my pants. Now we’re facing each other. I put my hands on my hips to mimic her. My cock stands at full attention, already teased by her luscious curves on display.
“Sit,” she says with a sultry tone this time. I look behind me at my reading chair. So long, undefiled chair. I sit. “Comfortable?” she asks. When I nod, my lip twitching in a smile, she kneels before me and places one hand on each of my thighs.
“Isn’t this your celebration? Shouldn’t we be reversed?” I ask. “My tongue craves the taste of you.”
“This is how I want to start.”
And what a start it is. Emma’s pink lips on my cock is detrimental in the best possible way. Each lick from root to tip reminds me of the way she eats ice cream. I thought that was a one off experience—just to mess with me. No. Every time we have ice cream, it’s like that. To the point where it’s painful for me to watch her in public.
But now, it’s just us. I massage her scalp, letting my fingers tangle in her hair as she sucks me deeper and deeper. She can’t fit all of me before gagging. I do my best not to thrust hard into her, but she makes it impossible to hold on to my self-control.
“You take me so well,” I let the words grumble out of me. “Your mouth is perfect.” I see her wiggle her sweet ass at the words, bringing a smile to my lips.
When her hand clutches my balls, rolling them in her hand, my body takes control, thrusting harder. It’s almost too much.
I pull her off me, up into my lap, and kiss her, tasting my precum on her tongue. “I swear, your mouth is magic.”
Emma kisses me again, somehow adjusting to straddle me in this chair. It’s cozy, she’s got just enough room to spread her legs to let me into her. When she sits on my cock, I swear stars erupt. The chair means she can’t spread her pretty thighs wide for me. I hiss at the tightness of her.
“You’re so tight.” It’s supposed to be sexy, but it comes out as a groan as she clinches tighter around me. “Woman, you’re asking for trouble.”
“I know exactly what I’m getting,” she says, a smile on her lips. Hands on her peachy ass, I lift her enough to get my mouth around her perky nipple, flicking it with my tongue as I lower and lift her again, letting my fingers dig into the flesh of her meaty thighs and ass.
“That’s it,” she whispers, letting her head fall back, exposing her chest more to me.
