Page 37 of The Orc's Sweetheart
Bodin’s finger pauses and he arches a single eyebrow at me. A moan of protest sits in my throat, but I bite my lip and swallow it down. He keeps his eyes on me as he shoves my panties to the side and moves a finger between my pussy lips, careful not to touch my clit or enter me as he coats the digit in my arousal.
Is he really going to torture me for trying to command him? I might spontaneously combust if I don’t come. Think, Tilly. Feminine wiles. Or titties. If I show him my titties will that help?
“I wanted to take things slow with you, Matilda,” Bodin says, his finger still moving lazily between my folds. “I wanted to grovel, to take you on elaborate dates before we got to this part. I want to earn your forgiveness, but mostly, I want to deserve a future with you.”
Oh, fuck. My pussy contracts at the most romantic words I’ve heard in my life, and a gush of arousal seeps from me and onto his hand. I think his words just gave me a mini orgasm.
Unable to form words yet as Bodin rearranges the very atoms of my being, he shifts his hand and slowly spears one finger into my wet pussy. The sound of my arousal almost makes me blush, but I can only pant, my fingers digging into his forearm as I anchor myself to him.
“It looks like you might be too impatient for all my plans, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“I already forgave you,” I say through staccato breaths. “Please just make me come.” I arch my back and rock my hips in tiny circles, needing more.
“I’m planning on it, sweetheart,” Bodin says through gritted teeth, his control hanging by a thread. Underneath me, his ridged cock pulses. Knowing he’s as affected as me, turns me on even more.
“Just one thing first.” Bodin pulls his finger out of my dripping pussy and I squeeze my walls tight, trying to keep him inside. Before disappointment can settle in, he pushes back in with a second finger joining the first, and I moan at the sensation of stretching to accommodate the added girth.
Bodin’s voice is a near growl as he proceeds to slowly pump his fingers in and out of me. “I told you I wanted a new nickname. Don’t you dare call me ‘buddy’ while my fingers are in this tight cunt. I’m not your buddy right now, Matilda.”
My heart pounds faster, and my blood races through my body, sending tingling sensations across my skin, as I try to rock my hips in rhythm with Bodin’s fingers.
I pant, “What should I call you?”
“Mine.”
My hips still and Bodin’s whole body freezes. Outside of him, the whole world ceases to exist. Any uncertainty I had about us evaporates like a drop of water on a scorching-hot day. Bodin stares intently at me, his jaw clenched and muscles bunched, as he waits for my answer.
My mouth curves into a lopsided grin, and I state simply, “I am yours, and you are perfect.”
Chapter 17
Bodin
Agust of air explodes from my body, my relief palpable at Tilly’s declaration. I grant her a simple smile, then stand up with her in my arms and my fingers still in her tight cunt.
I lay her out on the table and tug her dress and bra down, freeing her tits from their tight confines. “So fucking beautiful. Just look at these tits of yours,” I utter reverently.
Tilly reaches for my head and pulls my face down to her tits like she needs me as much as I need her. I palm one and suck the taut nipple into my mouth, scraping my tusks on either side of it tomark my female.
At the same time, I press a thumb to Tilly’s clit, rolling hard, tight circles against it, as I crook my fingers against the front wall of her cunt. I read every cue her body gives me, studying her so I can give her all the pleasure she deserves.
Tilly tries to suck her lip into her mouth to keep herself quiet, but I quickly put an end to it. “Scream for me, Matilda. Let the whole island know that you’re mine.”
She moans and writhes under me, squeezing my fingers tighter and tighter in her cunt, as her release draws closer. My cock is begging for the same release, but I need Tilly to come first.
Tilly will always come first.
Her cries rise with pants of, “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours,” and, “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.” It’s the loveliest song I’ve ever heard.
I increase my efforts, flicking her nipples with my tongue, rubbing faster circles on her clit, pushing Tilly closer and closer as I repeat, “Mine, mine, mine.”
Then, Tilly’s screams reach a new pitch and she shouts my name. I watch her closely as she falls apart under me—her eyes rolling back, her whole body spasming, her pussy contracting around my fingers, before she relaxes into a sated mess.
I praise her, whisper how perfect she is, then slowly withdraw my fingers from her quivering cunt. When Tilly finally opens her eyes to a half-lidded gaze, I lick each finger clean as I stare at her.
“Delicious,” I state honestly.
“Your turn,” Tilly counters, pushing herself up onto her elbows.
