Page 29 of Wagered to the Orc
If I agreed to tryThe Backwards Donkey, it wouldn’t be because my master forced me. Or because I was trading my body for his protection. Or because I felt as if I had no choice.
I wanted this.
I wantedhim. I wanted this pleasure, and more than anything, I wanted kind and gentle Korvak to be the one to give it to me.
And I wanted to be brave enough toaccept what I wanted and take it.
I wanted to be like Roxanna, and even Sorcha, and the long-ago harlot who’d writtenA Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts.
I would be.
With a deep breath, I reached for the hem of my chemise. Korvak was so tall, only the tips of my toes could push against the ground, but ‘twas enough leverage to lift my arse and slide the linen up and then over my head.
Until I was sitting nude on his lap.
Truthfully, having my back to him helped my embarrassment.
“Gods below, Effie,” he groaned, his hands going to my waist. “Ye are certain ye want my touch?”
His fingers curled around my stomach toward my navel, and I peered down the valley between my breasts to watch in a sort of daze, disbelieving this wasmybody.
“Aye,” I breathed—and meant it.
Those large hands slid up my sides and forward to cup my breasts. Now ‘twasmyturn to moan and lean into him. He’d touched me this way this afternoon—gently, reverently—and I didn’t think I would ever get enough of it.
I sighed and, inch by inch, allowed myself to relax against him as he caressed my skin. The momentsstretched into eons as his fingers teased and stroked, heightening my arousal. His little murmurs and hums of approval did even more for me.
When he spread his legs, my thighs—already spread open across his—opened further. I stiffened for a moment, but his fingers rolled my nipple then, and I relaxed on a moan.
“Such a good lass,” he murmured, one set of fingers trailing down my stomach. “Are ye wet for me?” His forefinger skimmed over my curls, and we both groaned. “So wet.”
His praise made me yearn to be the good lass he saw. I rocked my hips forward so his fingertip brushed against me again, igniting the pleasure radiating from the bud hidden among my curls.
“Ye like that?” He flattened one palm against my chest, holding me in place against his chest, as his finger stroked me again. “What is this bit of magic?”
“Clitoris,” I moaned, rocking against him. “Sensitive.”
“Aye, ‘tis,” he agreed with a faint chuckle. “I like it.”
Saying so, he pressed it with his callused fingertip then rubbed a circle around it.
This was when I noticed his breathing becoming harsher. And the hard length pressed against my lower back jumped with each inhale. My hands,curled into fists at my side so I could focus on the sensations Korvak was pulling from me, suddenly itched to touch him.
“Korvak,” I panted, rocking forward against his hand. “I need…”
“Hush, little human, I ken what ye need.” I felt his nose nuzzling into my hair. “Ye want to come again for me, aye?”
“Nay—aye.” ‘Twas hard for me to focus on his words, to understand. “I wantyou.”
His hand stilled for a moment.
“Korvak,please. Your cock…”
When he exhaled, I felt my hair stir.
“Nay, Effie.” His fingers returned to their movements. “This is for ye.”
“I want to touch you. I want to stroke you and bring you pleasure.” I think I understood his objection and—whimpering—I rubbed my arse against his hardness. “Please? I swear ‘tis no’ because I think I owe you. I wantyou.”
