Page 43 of Valpar

That’s the spot.

I continued to rub it, inserting another finger. It was tight, but I knew I needed to stretch myself. Valpar was big. If I was going to have him inside me one day, I needed to make some room, right? He had to claim me at some point. What if he couldn’t get in?

What if he had to force it inside?

The thought of that made me impossibly wetter.

“Mmhm, Valpar.”

I felt my body seize and that delightful high reached its peak. I continued to pump my fingers, using my hips to pretend I was riding his…thing. Whatever it looked like.

I panted, now hot under the furs. I was tired, and the door left open for Simon to get back in made it colder. To make my body temperature even, I stuck one foot out, as my eyes grew heavy.

I hoped next time Valpar would make the move again. After hearing Karma’s words, I didn’t know if I ever wanted to make the first move. I didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want him to be just the human-sitter because I annoyed everyone.

I really wanted to believe he was my mate, that we were meant for each other.

I sniffed, taking in the deep breaths of the blankets he wrapped me in. He was sweet, taking care of me even after I went to bed without him. I just couldn’t help myself. I was just so tired… and he made me feel so safe.

I yawned, and I felt the wetness between my legs drying.

I should clean up, but that would require me to get out of bed, use the bathroom and—I wasn’t about to do that.

The shower turned on and I saw steam coming out from beneath the door. I hummed and laid my head back down on the pillow.

Tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll get washed up.

Valpar

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard outside of my door. My little human was touching herself. The sounds she made were like music to my ears, making my cock hard again. I had just finished emptying my shaft, trying to be as quiet as possible so she wouldn’t hear me. But it seemed like she was too lost in her own pleasure to notice.

Goddess, she was driving me crazy.

I wanted nothing more than to burst through that door and take her for myself. But I couldn’t do that, not yet. I had to win her over, prove myself and gain the trust of the female.

But hearing her moan and knowing what she was doing to herself was too much for me to handle. My hand automatically went down to my aching cock, again as it swelled, stroking its large bumps slowly as I listened.

I could imagine her lying on the bed, her hand between her legs, fingers working furiously on that tight little pussy of hers. And all of it was because of me. It had to be. The way I licked her cunt, how I tasted her this night. How could she forget it?

It took all of my willpower not to go over there and finish her off myself. But then I heard something new, a squelching sound, that made my shaft grow even more.

She was soaked, wetting my furs, letting it all seep deeply into the leathers. I would always smell her in our bedding.

I took a deep breath, pumping my shaft furiously, and watched my seed continue to drip down my length and onto the floor.

My sack was heavy. It continued to fill, ready to fill her, to fill her womb. I wasn’t ready to fill her with orclings, I wanted just her. All to myself. To not share her with the realm.

My sack slapped against my thighs as I grew harder, then my miresa let out a squeak and my body shook as I held in my roar. My seed splattered against the tub as it shot out of my body, coating the marble. It landed with a loud noise, but I was too lost in my pleasure to care.

I turned on the shower and rinsed off my seed. The only smell I wanted was my miresa, so I quickly rinsed, grabbed my cloth, and wrapped it around my waist. Normally, I would sleep with no cloth, but since my miresa has never seen an orc’s shaft—at least she better not have, and I growled at that thought alone—it was best to remain covered.

I opened the door, and her soft snores filled the room—along with her arousal. I took in deep breaths and my sack fills again. It pointed straight out, moving my cloth. The cloth we wore kept our thighs open for effortless movement of our legs and was just enough to cover our shafts and backsides. When we were hard, however—

Bassza, how did one not have this thing in the way all the time?

I went to my bag of supplies and pulled out leather straps for binding wood. I took the softest ones, the most used, and tugged on them, shaking my head. I would not scare my miresa, especially as young-looking as she was.

I took my shaft and pointed it downwards. I winced and groaned as I strapped it to my leg, to keep it from sticking out.

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