Page 35 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

“Oh. My. God. Yes! Is that the berries?” I pant, my core clenching as heat rushes through me. The Faerie Fruit made me feel joy, but this… this is seriously effingextrain the best of ways.

“Orc seed is an aphrodisiac,” he says.

“So it feels like this all the time?”

He nods

Hell, yeah! I’m one lucky bish.

Krivoth keeps teasing me, his fingers running to either side of where I want him most. When I whimper, he squeezes his fingers along the sides of my clit, adding just enough pressure to take me higher. Then he’s back to working all around me. His hand strains against my clothing, the sharp lines of his knuckles standing out against the thin fabric of my panties, and the sight’s so effing hot I almost come right then.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, one finger teasing my entrance. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

The words make me jerk against him. I try to bear down, to have his finger enter me, but he pulls back, sliding it up and up and over my clit in a tingle of sensation.

Jolts of pleasure shoot through me, and my back arches, my head tipping back as I scream my joy to the sky.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Krivoth

It is the greatest torture I have ever faced, to have my bride offer herself to me, when I should not act upon it. By the goddess, my mouth waters at the smell of the Faerie Fruit, at the promise of thoughtless pleasure it offers. Tales are still told of the week-long parties the elves threw in Avalon, of the sheer debauchery brought on by sprite magic more potent than any alcohol.

But if I taste the Faerie Fruit, I won’t be able to stop myself from claiming Taylor, from knotting her and making her fully mine. She asks for an easy release, but all my cock wants to offer is forever.

Yet I’m no saint. I rub my seed into her skin to stoke her desire higher. And to make her smell like me. I breathe deep, thecombined scent of her arousal mixed with my fluids combining into a heady blend that resonates through me.Mine.

She does not love me yet, not as I love her, with the steady knowledge that the goddess wills this to be. Therefore, I will also take this opportunity to prove how much pleasure I can offer my bride, to woo her fully.

A bewitching scrap of purple lace hides her sex from sight, but its soft stretchiness does nothing to stop my hand. I slip my fingers between her legs, teasing along her folds. Her skin’s so soft, already bathed with a bewitching wetness that makes me long to rip her clothes from her and plunge my tongue deep inside her.

Every time I move my hand, she makes these little whimpers, soft breathy sounds that shoot straight to my cock.

I tease to either side of the sensitive spot at the top of her sex, and she writhes against me, trying to get me to touch her there. I pinch my fingers together, squeezing it from either side with just enough pressure to make her gasp. Then my fingertips flutter over her entrance, gliding over the wet heat that calls to me with its siren promise of pleasure.

“You’re so wet,” I groan. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

The words make her even wilder. I love her reaction, and my own—my cock pulses with lust, my balls tightening. Who knew praise—the thing denied me my whole life—would be so heady to offer to another? But it is. It only makes me want her more.

Taylor nods and shoves her hips down, trying to force me inside.

But not yet. I slide my finger up over the tight pearl waiting at the top of her sex.

Her whole body tightens, her back arching like a tightly plucked string. My bride shudders and screams her orgasm to the heavens.

“That’s it,” I growl. “That’s my good girl, coming so prettily for me.”

In that moment, I’m lost, fully hers. The high, sweet sound of her pleasure pierces my heart. I want nothing more than to make her sing her song of delight again and again for all my days.

Starting now.

The sugary scent of the magicked blackberries teases my nose, offering all the thrill of intoxication with none of the hangover. But humans react more strongly than fae. If I remember the old stories correctly, there are only two ways to break the wild ecstasy of Faerie Fruit’s spell. The human either dances until they drop from exhaustion…

Or they orgasm several times.

My hand dives back into my pants, scooping up more of the orc seed that flows from my erection. I smear it down Taylor’s front, shoving my fingers into the confines of her clothes, wanting them gone yet not wanting to stop long enough to take them off. Not that she would let me—the Faerie Fruit has her now. My bride needs a constant supply of pleasure.

She hisses as the aphrodisiac grips her anew. Her small hands fist in the shoulders of my shirt, and determination flashes across her face. Taylor undulates on my hand, bearing down with all her wealth of enthusiasm.

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