Page 2 of Bred By the Orc
Roxanna’s grin was positively evil as she leaned closer to our cousin.
“Orcs,” she hissed.
Effie gasped.
Forgoing Mother’s teachings, I rolled my eyes. “Do not scare her.”
“Orcs have not been a worry in these parts for a generation,” Effie whispered.
“Aye,” drawled Roxanna, settling back against the headboard. “But when theydidraid, ‘twas on nights like this.” She nodded smugly toward the front door of the croft. “Warm summer nights under a full moon. Everyone knows this sort of night was their preference when it came to sneaking through the veil of the standing stone and stealing our cattle.”
“And women,” Effie breathed.
Despite my attempts to maintain a brave mien, I had to admit my sister’s reminder made me want to peer into the dark corners and hunch fearfully beside Effie. Instead, however, I glared.
“You are being less than helpful. I go off to my fate in the morning, not knowing what to expect—” HereI waved the scroll in emphasis. “Andyoudo your best to make me more concerned?”
Roxanna’s expression immediately softened in an apologetic wince. “Och, I am sorry, Sorcha.” She cut a glance sideways. “Iwasmerely teasing, Effie. There is naught to be concerned about tonight. John will keep watch and we will be safe until Laird MacDonald’s men join us in the morning.”
Effie didn’t look convinced, so I scooted closer and moved the scroll between us as a distraction. “Have I shown youThe Supplicant Swan, Effie? It is the opposite ofThe Invasion of Brussels.”
“The opposite?” She frowned down at the vellum as I unrolled. “You meansheputs her mouth on—Holy Blessed Virgin!”
Her scandalized gasp caused Roxanna to smile, but luckily my sister hid her laughter.
I tried to keep a straight face as I read my younger—and apparently more innocent—cousin the description. “Upon taking her—or his, as the case may be—lover’s cock between her lips, the kneeling woman twirls her tongue around the head, working the shaft, or occasionally the ballocks, with her hand, bringing him to completion.”
“Workingthe shaft,” Effie repeated breathlessly. “What do you think that means?”
Roxanna shrugged. “I’m more intrigued by the thought of a man doing this to another man.”
Nodding along, I pointed out a few of the other positions which were purposefully vague. “The author must have ledquitean interesting life.”
Effie reached for the scroll, pulling it into her lap. “A Lady. That’s the only information listed about the author. Do you think ‘twas really written by a lady?”
I shrugged, but I doubted my cousin noticed, seeing as how she was bent over the scroll. “I heard aboutA Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Artsfrom my mother, and the two of us went through quite a lot of trouble to acquire this copy of the original. ‘Tis said the original was written in the Highlands decades ago, transcribed by a lady who spoke to spirits.”
Roxanna crossed her ankles, a faint grin on her lips. “You know, I would not mind the appearance of a ghost or two if they spoke ofthesesorts of things.”
“The Clinging Vine,” read Effie, her fingertip tracing the illustration. “I had no idea the act could be completed with her on top.”
This scroll was a collection—names and descriptions—of the sexual positions and acts as the author knew them. I kept my grin hidden as I nodded sagely. “Just wait until you reach the later entries.The Twin Mountainsrequires three participants.”
As Effie began to skim the descriptions, my sister nodded. “My favorite isThe Soldier and the Crucible, but I cannot imagine a man being strong enough to be able to hold his lover in that position for long enough to complete the deed.”
“Perhaps ‘tis a quick deed,” murmured Effie, still bent over the scroll.
I began to giggle. “I hope not!”
Roxanna met my gaze, her own lips stretched wide. “If ‘tis done properly, you will want it to last forever!”
The pair of us dissolved into chuckles, and I must admit my fears melted away.
Roxanna wasn’t my only sister; she wasn’t even my next-youngest sister. We had never shared a room or a bed prior to this adventure, but having her with me was a comfort. ‘Twas acomfortto snuggle down in the mattress with her, our arms around one another, allowing the sound of her steady breathing to lull me to sleep.
I tipped my head to see Effie still peering at the scroll in the moonlight which streamed through the open roof beams.
“Keep it safe, cousin,” I cautioned around a yawn.
