Page 19 of The Orc's Sweetheart
“The temple thing?” I ask, ignoring how high Calixta’s tail is creeping under Beryl’s skirt. The newlyweds had a hard time keeping their hands off each other well before their ceremony, but it seems to have gotten worse since they returned from their claiming rut.
“The greeting,” Calixta says, tipping her head to the left and bringing her long black hair over her shoulder. “I know it’s not an actual orc thing and more of a goblin thing, but you guys always greet each other like that, and now I want to greet my brother-in-law like that too.”
I laugh at Calixta’s fake pout, her black-painted lips doing a fine impression of making her seem coy. The sparkle in her topaz eyes doesn’t lie, though.
“Sure,” I say, touched by her embracing our family’s customs. “Just don’t poke my eye out with one of your horns,” I joke and angle my head so we’re well clear of injuries, and Calixta leans down to press her temple against mine.
The pair plop down on the opposite side of the booth and Beryl tucks Calixta into her side, draping an arm around her wife’s crimson shoulders. I’m suddenly thankful that the table hides where Calixta’s tail could possibly be. Even though Beryl has always loved showing off her muscular arms and legs in shortskirts and tight sleeveless shirts, I might encourage her to start wearing pants, just until the honeymoon period is over.
Calixta smirks at me and I brace myself at whatever inappropriate thing she’s about to say. “You know, you’d be awfully lucky to be allowed to touch one of my horns, especially when they’re freshly draped with these pearly beads Beryl got me. Aren’t they gorgeous? Your sister likes to pull on them when she—”
Beryl clasps a hand over Calixta’s mouth just as I’m about to cover my ears. “No need to traumatize my brother with sex stories straight after the rut, my heart.”
Calixta carefully removes Beryl’s hand with her shiny taloned fingers. “Maybe he can use some tips, you know, in case he happens to meet someone with horns,” she teases. “Poor Bodin’s had quite the dry spell recently.”
A huff escapes me at her throwing that statement into the air and having it land with an almost audible thud on the table between us. “Excuse me? I’m right here. And how do you know I’ve had a dry spell?”
Calixta tuts. “My dear brother-in-law, I’m a succubus and can sense sexual energy. You’ve not had a spike in ages.”
“That’s…” I start, but can’t quite find the right word to explain how disturbing it is that she knows that.
“Gross,” Beryl answers for me as her lip curls back from her tusks. “I don’t want to think about my brother’s sex life. Or lack thereof,” she adds with a poorly disguised laugh, quickly covering it with a cough.
Calixta only shrugs then leans around Beryl. “Oh look! Is that Tilly?”
My head snaps up as Tilly squints into the pub, and I try to see The Singing Seahorse through her eyes. It’s not particularly dark inside, but maybe for a human it could take a while for her eyes to adjust with all the mahogany furniture blending into the dark floorboards.
This seems to be the case as Tilly walks deeper into the room, craning her head this way and that as if searching for someone specific.
I hope it’s not Aurelius with his charming feathery antennae and ostentatious outfits.
Not noticing the table jutting into her path, Tilly bangs her hip into it, causing us to collectively wince at the impact. Flustered, Tilly backs up to apologize to said table, only to collide into the pillar behind her. If she’s not careful her skin’s going to look like Indigo Bay by the end of the night.
I force myself to stay in my seat as Tilly’s flight or fight instincts wage war in her eyes. The moment she takes a retreating step toward the door, Beryl shoots up from her seat and goes straight to Tilly’s rescue.
The relief on Tilly’s face when she sees Beryl has something softening in me. It must be hard to walk into a new place by yourself like she did, especially when there aren’t many of your own kind around. It’s a concept I’m all too familiar with, but I don’t want to think about it or it’ll spoil my mood.
I still have my doubts about Tilly, but Ma’s been singing her praises every night when I pop downstairs after work. Apparently Tilly’s really good at diagnosing patients and has valuable knowledge of recently released drugs that they’re using in Cape Easton hospitals. She’s certainly made Ma’s life easieralready, and I can admit that has had some sway in my opinion about her.
Beryl hooks Tilly’s arm into hers and, together, they make their way to our table.
I can’t take my eyes off Tilly. Her pale purple dress must be held up with some kind of magic, because the way it dips across her tits has me thinking very impure thoughts. I shift in my seat as my cock echoes the sentiment. My eyes inch down her body, cataloging how the dress cinches at her waist before flaring out around her hips, down toward her sandaled feet. I drag my eyes back up, slowly following the slit going up her left leg. It’s high enough that you could easily move your hand in and reach for—
“My, my… Those sexual desires aren’t as dormant as I thought they were,” Calixta purrs.
“Calixta, I—”
My sister-in-law winks and her grin stretches into pure delight. “Don’t worry, bro. Your secret is safe with me.” She leans across the table and whispers conspiratorially, “Besides, I’m a fabulous wingwoman.”
Chapter 9
Tilly
Beryl leads me to the curved booth in the back corner where I can just make out some shapes in the dim lighting. I try my best to compose myself quickly, subtly rubbing at the bruise on my hip I’m sure is blooming quite beautifully already.
“Tilly! It’s so nice to see you again!” Calixta says warmly, getting up to wrap me in a welcoming hug.
“You know each other?” Bodin asks flatly.
