Gerrard kept it there for as long as he could bear, his gasps deepening into groans as he settled closer, closer — and then, oh, fuck, he was easing inside. Sinking into Olarr’s tight, glorious, clamouring warmth, feeling it clutch and spasm around him. Feeling it take him, caress him, welcome him, more, more…
Gerrard’s head arched back as he cried out, and he plunged himself the rest of the way, fully to the hilt. He was in Olarr, he was finallyin Olarr, and Olarr looked just as frantic as Gerrard felt, his cheeks red, his eyes shocked wide and bright. While his own straining, leaking shaft bobbed up again and again, as if trying to gain the attention of Gerrard’s rapidly fluttering eyes.
“Fuck,” Gerrard gasped, as his shaking hand again found that shaft, gripped it tight in his tingling fingers. “Fuck, you feel good, captain. So damn good.”
Olarr choked and nodded, his bright eyes worshipful on Gerrard’s face, and Gerrard smiled back, tender and painfully affectionate, as he stroked his beautiful orc, revelled in the truth of this impossible, unthinkable moment. Of opening him, being inside him, finally getting to have him, oh goddess,oh.
“So good,” Gerrard breathed, as he gave his first small, careful thrust, his hand moving in time with his hips. “So gorgeous, captain. Been dreaming of this for so damn long.”
Olarr fervently nodded again, his body grinding down to meet Gerrard’s hips, so Gerrard kept going, drinking up every flutter of those eyes, every stunning spasm of that silken heat around him. “You’re such a big, powerful, generous captain, aren’t you?” he gasped. “Such a good, brave Bautul. Taking your human’s prick like this. Letting it fuck you wide open, and fill you with good sweet man-seed.”
Olarr’s groan sounded more like a howl this time, and oh, how Gerrard adored him, caressing him, worshipping him, plunging his hips in again and again, filling them both with sparking streams of pleasure. “You’re gonna be a good strong Bautul, and take all of it,” he gasped, moving faster, faster, the compulsion driving him, consuming him. “You’re gonna suck your man’s seed deep, and make it your own. You’re gonna prove to me how much you want this, how much you want me, and it’s gonna reek on you, and shout it to every Bautul you meet. You won your enemy’s seed, and his loyalty, and hisheart, and you made himyours—”
And fuck, yes, the relief and the truth flashing out in furious, juddering flares, pumping Gerrard’s release deep into that perfect clutching heat, milking him dry. And wait, that heat was suddenly softening, opening even wider, as Olarr’s body thrashed against the fur, his hips bucking up —
And before Gerrard had even caught it, followed it, he’d yanked himself out, and lurched down to suck Olarr’s spraying head deep into his throat. Gulping and guzzling it out of him, sucking as hard as he could, while Olarr’s bellows echoed through the room, his body a flailing wild thing beneath Gerrard’s tongue. And pitching even wilder when Gerrard slipped his fingers down, filled that messy hole again, keeping his own seed inside. Feeling how the hole was lax and stretched, now, because Gerrard had fucked it open, and filled it with himself.
But Olarr was filling him too, still sputtering out into his mouth with slowing, lengthening pulses, while Gerrard sucked and licked and adored, and caressed his mate’s insides with his gently stroking fingers. Until Olarr finally sagged heavily beneath him, his breath escaping in a shuddery heave, his big hands skittering over Gerrard’s hair, his shoulders, his face.
“Ach, Aulis,” Olarr rasped, as he tilted Gerrard’s head up, met his blinking eyes. “Ach, my mate, my heart, my prize. This was — such a gift. Such a great, great blessing.”
Gerrard’s mouth twitched into a shaky smile, and Olarr blinked at it, once — and then his entire body flailed up again, clutching at Gerrard’s shoulders, dragging him down to lie close against his chest. “Such a blessing,” he croaked, as his fervent hands caressed Gerrard’s hair, his face, his back, his sides. “Ach, I deserve none of this. I had notdreamtthat you would yet offer it to me. That you would yet allow me to come to you, to see you and touch you and speak to you, and —loveyou. To come alongside you, to help end this war. To yet be — your mate.”
He sounded hushed, reverent, almost reckless, and he clutched Gerrard even tighter as he rolled them sideways on the fur, and buried his face in Gerrard’s neck. His teeth scraping sharp against Gerrard’s already-raw skin, but Gerrard didn’t care, not even a little, and he willingly tilted his head away, and pressed Olarr’s head down harder. Feeling those sharp teeth clamp down, the snap of pain almost instantly shifting into pleasure, as Olarr’s greedy, desperate gulps filled the air between them.
Gerrard let him go as long as he wanted, gently stroking Olarr’s hair again and again, his own breaths gone slow and deep. And the longer Olarr drank, the more Gerrard felt the frenzy in that familiar body against him shifting, settling, finding its ease again. Until Olarr finally gasped and twitched all over, and then jerked back, away, his eyes wide and strange on Gerrard’s face.
“Ach, I am sorry, Aulis,” he said, rushed and hoarse in his throat. “I did not mean — I ken this was too much, I —”
But Gerrard shushed him with a hard, purposeful kiss, with a blatant taste of the iron and salt on his mate’s lips. “All good, captain,” he murmured. “I want my mate wanting me. Want you thinking about how good I taste. And how much you want to come back to me.”
His eyes had sobered a little on Olarr’s, because he might not yet realize what he was agreeing to, and just how difficult this could be — but Olarr was already nodding, licking his lips, giving Gerrard a slow, red-rimmed smile. “I yet always thought this,” he murmured back. “But I shall gladly think of you even more, ach?”
Oh. Well, then. Gerrard’s own smile slowly pulled up too, feeling a bit jaunty now, maybe even triumphant. “Good,” he said, husky. “Especially because now” — he waggled his eyebrows — “now you finally havemyseed-ling, yeah?”
He shot a satisfied smirk down at where his hand was stroking Olarr’s belly, caressing at where it was just slightly more rounded than before. Not much, not enough that anyone would have even noticed, if they weren’t looking. But Gerrard was sure as hell looking, and grinning broadly back Olarr’s stunned, watching face.
“Even did it from both ends,” he said smugly. “How’s it feel, Bautul? To fall for a human? And to be so thoroughly conquered?”
There was an instant’s stillness, a quiver on Olarr’s mouth — and then he laughed. Laughed, the sound bright and booming, sparkling in his eyes, shaking in his big hands, drawing Gerrard close and safe. Making him his. Making him home.
“It feels good, warrior,” Olarr whispered, his heart in his beautiful, worshipful eyes. “It feels good.”
EPILOGUE
Aulis Gerrard was going to be defeated by a four-year-old.
“Augggghhhh!” he groaned theatrically, as he fell back onto the carpet, flailing beneath the felling blows of said four-year-old’s weapon — a bright yellow parasol. “I’ve been destroyed by a monster! Noooo!”
Little Molly Cosgrove grinned broadly back toward him, and gave him one more decisive whack with the parasol. “I destroy you!” she exclaimed, with contagious glee. “I win the victory!”
Gerrard laughed again, and then propped himself up on his elbow as Susie came over to sweep Molly up into her arms. Susie was Cosgrove’s wife, just as plump and cheerful as he was, and she beamed down at Gerrard as she bounced Molly on her hip. “She’s a ferocious little warrior, aren’t you, lovey?” she asked Molly. “Going to be such a good protector for your new little sister or brother?”
Molly eagerly nodded, patting Susie’s visibly rounded belly with a reassuring little hand, before beaming proudly over toward Cosgrove. Who was fondly watching all this from the sofa, and now waving Molly and Susie over, so he could yank them both into his arms.
It was a scene Gerrard had often witnessed over the past eighteen months, since they’d all packed up the outpost, and moved back north again. Cosgrove had successfully obtained an administrative position within Warmisham’s ranks, a role which not only suited him very well, but also allowed him to live at home in the city with his wife and daughter. And whenever Gerrard was in town, the Cosgroves invariably invited him over for dinner, and a recurring sparring-match with Molly, too.
“Are you sure you don’t want one of your own yet?” Susie asked Gerrard, now, with a teasing grin. “Find a nice woman, and finally settle down?”