Page 38 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

My lips part on an outraged gasp. “Lick?”

But my protest fades away quickly as he lowers his head between my legs and touches his tongue to my pearl for the very first time.

My hips jerk violently at the sensation. His tongue is rough and long and so wonderfully hot. The friction he creates with every swipe sets my legs trembling, and I wrap one hand in Torren’s silky hair, tugging to keep him in place.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he groans. “I will taste this pussy every day until I die, I promise you this.”

“A-all right,” I stutter, “Yes!”

Morg’s large hands cup my heavy breasts. I’ve been teased about them all my life, but they fill his hands perfectly, and when he pinches my nipples between his thumbs and fingers, I forget all about feeling self-conscious.

“Oh gods!” Pressure builds inside me, needing an outlet to escape. “I can’t take this much longer. Please!”

“I love how you scream,” Morg growls. “I want your voice echoing in my head every time I fuck you, Jasmine.”

Torren’s fingertip grazes the opening of my pussy, testing the resistance of my maidenhood. Then he sucks the pearl between his lips, and I nearly levitate off Morg, so intense are the sensations he inflicts in me.

“Oh!” I grab a fistful of Torren’s hair and tug, hard. “Yes!”

He laughs, then does it again, only this time, he keeps licking and sucking me without stopping, and the pleasure crests, rising inside me like the tide. Finally, it breaks. I cry out, helpless in their arms but so powerful with the newfound knowledge of what my body can do.

It’s at that moment that Torren pushes his fingers deep inside me, and the pleasure takes on a painful edge. He doesn’t move his hand, only keeps it in place while he continues to lick and suck my pearl, prolonging my pleasure. The pinch is there, and I clench my inner muscles instinctively around this new intrusion, but it’s fading along with my climax.

Now Morg’s kisses turn soft, and though he’s still cupping my breasts in both hands, his every caress is gentle. The orc between my legs kisses the inside of my thigh, his stubble scratching my soft skin. He licks his lips, which are wet with the proof of my pleasure, though his fingers are still deep in my pussy, as if he’s reluctant to let go.

“Did it hurt?” he asks, his voice rough.

I consider lying, but I don’t want to do that with them. “Only a little. It’s better now.”

“I’m sorry.” He presses another kiss on my knee. “It won’t hurt next time, that much I know.”

Slowly, he pulls his fingers from me and stands, then turns to walk to the tapestry behind which his bathroom niche is hidden. The sound of splashing water tells me he’s washing himself. I remain spread out on top of Morg, too spent to move—and besides, his arm has come to band around my stomach, so I don’t think he wants me to get up just yet.

I move my hands to cover myself, because I’m feeling too exposed now that Torren has moved away.

“Wait.”

His voice has me looking up, my skirts bunched in my hands. He’s returning from the bathroom, a washcloth in hand. He kneels between my legs again and cleans me gently, swiping the cool cloth over my thighs and finally my oversensitive pussy. I shiver at the sensation, then glance down to see that the linen cloth is smeared with pink, the proof of my maidenhood, gone.

I really did this.

A faint flicker of worry rises inside me at the thought, because this really means that there’s no turning back—I’ve chosen my path now and I’d be considered ruined in the eyes of most humans. But it’s quickly chased away by the deep-seated knowledge that I don’t care.

I did choose. The two males taking such good care of me are my choice, and I don’t regret it for a moment.

Morg tugs up the neckline of my dress, tucking my breasts back into the fabric. I help him, shifting on top of him a little, and he groans underneath me.

That’s when I realize he’s hard, his cock nestled against my ass. I freeze. Torren has gone completely silent, his big, rough hands resting on my naked knees. And he’s staring at my pussy, his nostrils flaring wide, his expression fierce.

“Oh gods.” I scramble to sit up, off Morg’s lap and onto the bed.

Morg shoots up as well, sitting beside me. “What’s the matter?”

The movement dislodges Torren’s grip as well. My skirts slip over my thighs, covering me. He glowers, then leans back, still kneeling in front of us. His expression is shutting down as I watch him, and I think he believes I regret this. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I’ve been so selfish,” I squeak. “I didn’t even think that you might want—that you’re also…” I motion helplessly at Morg’s lap where his cock strains beneath the front of his leather pants.

Morg laughs out loud, falling back on the bed to lean on his elbows. Torren groans and runs his palm over his face, muttering something that’s too low for me to hear. Now that I’m sitting up, I can see that he’s similarly affected, the bulge in his pants testifying to his state.

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