Page 30 of The Fall of the Orc

Gerrard’s relief was still clanging against the uncertainty, or even anger — this was still a huge fucking risk, Olarr hated risk, he’d stayed away for more than three damnedweeks— but even so, Gerrard was still leaning closer into Olarr’s warm kneeling bulk, inhaling the familiar richness of his scent. “What the hell happened to prudence?” he breathed into the darkness, into the sweaty, sweet-scented curve of Olarr’s neck. “And not being reckless?”

His traitorous mouth had already begun kissing at Olarr’s skin, just needing to taste him, to know he was really here — and he could feel Olarr’s answering full-body shudder, as sharp teeth scraped against his throat. “Youhappened, warrior,” Olarr whispered, almost a groan. “Ach, I have missed you. It has been too long.”

Gerrard refrained from pointing out that it had been Olarr who had stayed away all that time, and squeezed his eyes shut as his hands clutched against Olarr’s waist, yanked him closer. His teeth now nipping against Olarr’s neck, too, while his hips ground up against Olarr’s front. Against where that familiar ridge was already jutting back toward him beneath the rough fabric, meeting Gerrard, missing him, wanting him, threeweeks—

Gerrard hissed when Olarr gripped him tighter, spun him around — but he wasn’t resisting, not in the slightest. Not even as Olarr roughly shoved him down onto his belly, and yanked off the undershirt he’d been wearing to sleep. And then — oh, hell — that slick, familiar cock was already there, seeking and nuzzling, burrowing its way down between Gerrard’s taut arse-cheeks. Wanting in, and wanting innow.

Gerrard arched and gasped in the darkness, his frustration and his fear narrowing, funnelling fast and fierce into this. Into the truth of a huge, invading orc’s body shoving him open, gouging into him with pain and pleasure, plunging itself further and further with every gasping breath. While Gerrard just kept taking it, needing it, needing to feel Olarr here, safe, alive, deeper,more. Until they were fully locked together, Gerrard’s body clamped tight around Olarr’s base, his strained breaths heaving into the mat beneath him.

“Ach,” Olarr groaned, hot and breathless into Gerrard’s ear, before he slowly drew out again, all the way, the sound slick and obscene — and then he snapped back in. The sensation so sharp, so stunning, that an audible moan escaped from Gerrard’s throat, echoing into the darkness around them.

He winced, shaking his head, but Olarr’s big hand had already clapped over his mouth, a very low growl rumbling into his ear. “Silence, human,” he hissed. “You shall behave, whilst your captain ploughs you.”

Gerrard’s disbelief flared alongside his wheeling craving — this damned presumptuous prick, how dare he say that… and how dare it sound so damnedgood. And he even had to bite back another moan, inhaling and exhaling hard against Olarr’s still-clamped hand, while Olarr ground hard and deep inside.

“Ach, thus,” Olarr breathed, even hotter. “You shall stay pliant and quiet, whilst your captain favours you. Whilst you open your tight pretty rump wide, and welcome in his hungry prick.”

Fuck. Gerrard gasped and bucked again, and Olarr instantly met it, his strength swelling even fuller inside Gerrard’s grip, his hand tightening against his mouth. “Ach, thus, lieutenant,” he growled, as his other hand slipped up, curled around Gerrard’sneck. “You shall be a good, sweet little hole for your Bautul captain. You shall open wide for me, and seek with all your strength to milk me. And then” — his breath hitched — “you shall drink all my good orc-seed deep within you. Swallow up every last drop, and make yourself fat upon me. Make yourselfreekof me.”

The hell. Olarr had never gone off on Gerrard like this before, not even back in their earliest meetings — and why wasn’t Gerrard protesting it, shoving back at it, at being used and commanded by an orc in his own camp, in his own damned tent. Maybe because of the darkness, covering them both like a thick heavy cloak — or maybe because of Olarr himself, still here, pressing Gerrard so powerfully into the mat, buried hilt-deep inside him.

Or maybe… maybe it was the blatantly obvious risk Olarr was taking in this. The very real possibility of being caught at any moment… but doing it anyway. Olarr was abandoning all his vaunted prudence and control, ignoring the multiple possible dangers, so he could sneak into his enemy’s camp, and have his filthy way with a human.

The certainty of that thought only seemed to wrench Gerrard’s craving higher, roaring in his breath and his ears and his groin. So strong he was rapidly nodding, his tongue even twisting out to kiss against Olarr’s still-pressing palm against his mouth, his arse grinding up toward Olarr, needing more, more…

“Good, human,” Olarr breathed, as his hips kept pumping, plunging deep again and again. “You take my deep ploughing all the way up your rump. You let me rut you, bind you, mark you, stretch you,ruinyou, for all butme. And” — he dragged in a hoarse breath — “you shall feel me, and praise me, as my strong Bautul prick drives your own load out of you, and fills you instead withmine—”

And oh, damn, yes, Gerrard was silently begging, breaking, falling into the abyss, as his own cock finally spasmed, and spewed out onto his mat. His gasps groaning into Olarr’s palm, his body quaking all over, while Olarr choked behind him, his hands clamping tighter — and then he was pouring out, too. His strength inside Gerrard jerking up again and again, spraying him full of hot fresh orc-seed, as his hips thrust deeper and deeper in, and oh it was good, so, so good —

“Lieutenant?” came a voice,Cosgrove’svoice, just outside the tent. “You all right in there?”

Shit.Shit. Gerrard’s heart blared in his chest, his body shot to sudden stillness, and behind him, he could feel Olarr freezing all over, too. Except for that swollen, spasming strength, still stabbed deep inside Gerrard’s arse, still spurting out its seed into him, even now.

“Yeah, fine!” Gerrard’s raspy voice somehow called back, once he’d shoved Olarr’s hand away from his mouth. “Just was — having a fucked-up dream. Must be” — he drew in a shaky breath, racked his brain, please — “must be going around here these days, right?”

He was referring to Livermore’s ongoing troubles, of course, and he was deeply relieved to hear Cosgrove’s laugh, still far too close. Even as his own heartbeat kept thundering, as Olarr’s rhythmic pulses inside him finally began to slow, his big body otherwise held stock-still over Gerrard, not breathing…

“Must be,” Cosgrove’s cheerful voice replied. “Hope you didn’t get the geese, at least?”

Gerrard huffed a strangled laugh, and twitched a shake of his head Cosgrove couldn’t see. “No geese, thank fuck,” he called back. “Thanks for checking in, though, Corporal.”

Cosgrove made a vague sound of assent, and Gerrard could finally hear him moving away again, back in the direction of his own tent. Which was indeed appallingly close to Gerrard’s, and they’d been so damned stupid to risk this — so why was Gerrard almostlaughingas he sagged heavily into the mat again, shaking his head against it.

“Some cunning you are, captain,” he whispered, into the silence. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to smell people that close?”

He could almost feel Olarr blanching, as sharp claws spasmed against his shoulder. “Ach,” Olarr replied, his choked voice very quiet. “I ought to have scented this. But my breath was full of you, enough to drown out all else, and now I have put you in danger, and —”

Gerrard elbowed back up at him, breaking off his words mid-sentence. “Worth it,” he whispered back. “No regrets, captain.”

Olarr’s breaths sounded ragged against Gerrard’s neck, and now those were kisses, pressing softly down his shoulder. “You are sure, Aulis?” Olarr replied, so quiet. “Even with… how I… took you? How I… spoke to you? I ought not have…”

His voice trailed off, his hard swallow audible in Gerrard’s ear, and it distantly occurred to Gerrard that Olarr’s prudence — his cunning — had clearly failed him in this, too. That these weren’t the kinds of things he’d ever meant to say or do to Gerrard. The kinds of things a proud human lieutenant might be reasonably expected to tolerate, from the enemy orc in his bed.

But even as Gerrard considered that, Olarr’s heated words seemed to echo through his thoughts, sending something stirring again in his sticky groin.You shall open wide for me. Make yourself reek of me. Let me rut you, bind you, mark you, stretch you, ruin you, for all but me…

“I… don’t mind,” Gerrard heard himself say, and somehow, somehow, he meant it. “I’d really rather you didn’t try to be…prudent, with me. Would rather you just… be honest.”

He didn’t miss the curious little shudder up Olarr’s body over him, inside him, as his kisses seemed to press harder, almost desperate. But he didn’t speak, and Gerrard took another breath, drew up the courage to just damn well say it…

---