Page 14 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

“It makes itfeel good,” I purred, my gaze snagged on her tits. So small, so perfect, and the nipples were dark from her aroused abuse.

“All those ridges, just to make ye feel good. Immediate climax. And yer Mate wouldnae allow ye only one climax, Myra. He’d insist on four or five afore things really got started.”

“Mate?”

It wasn’t until she repeated the word in a whisper that I realized I’d said it out loud.

“Four or five?” Myra shook her head. “I do not need a Mate.”

Right.

Right.

I tightened my hand around my cock, reminding myKteerthat Myra had only come to me for pleasure. Not aforever.

Fine.

I could give her that.

Deciding to focus on the thing which had shocked her the most, I allowed my lips to curl in what I knew was an enticing grin.

“Four or five,dkaar. We’ll start withjust one tonight.”

Her lips parted, forming the word “One?” but no sound emerged.

Did she think I wouldn’t notice the way her hand moved in her lap until the heel of her palm pressed against the top of her mound? My wicked grin grew as she ground against the pressure.

My Myra liked pressure?

Humming in approval, I stretched my booted feet out in front of me, so she could more easily see the bulge under my kilt. I squeezed myself, then began to gently stroke my cock through the wool. We sat facing each other on either side of the fire, the light throwing everything behind her into shadows, our attention fully on one another.

Her gaze had dropped to my crotch again.

Fair’s fair. I was staring at hers.

“Spread yer legs, lass.” When she followed my command, I hummed in approval. “Good girl. I want ye to cup yerself. Press yer hand against yer cunny. ‘Tis wet, aye?”

Instead of answering, Myra stared at my cock and whimpered.

“I ken it is. I can smell the sweet scent of yer cunny from here,dkaar.” Best I stop calling her that. “I ken how hot ye are for me. Forme, Myra. Aye?”

Her gaze flicked back up to meet mine when I barked the last word, and her nod seemed instinctual.

“Aye,” she rasped, and I saw her fingers curl against herself as if trying to slide inside.

She needed that as much as I did.

“Show me,” I demanded. “Lift yer skirts, my wee plaything, and show me.”

Myra hesitated, her eyes widening in surprise. She was strong and determined, but she’d come to me forthis.

So I repeated my words from earlier. “I am the one who determines when ye need pleasure. I am in control. Lift yer skirts, lass.”

Isawthe moment she gave into temptation. Mayhap the ale had been helpful?

Slowly, Myra edged to the front of the chair and began to tug her skirts up. The red wool and the pale linen of her chemise lifted, revealing warm stockings. I’d never considered stockings—much less woolen ones—to be erotic, butPalton’s Spear, the sight of her legs, slowly being revealed?

I clenched my hand around my cock and leaned forward eagerly, my breathing stuttered.

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