Page 39 of My Orc Contract Husband
And then I’d bring her a glass of water, and I’d do it again two or three times. Sometimes, when I was feeling particularly restless, I’d wake her in the middle of the night with my mouth, and I loved the way she slowlycame awake, then reached for me to snuggle up at my side.
Yeah. I was addicted to my wife’s pussy.
The night she showed me her dildo, I nearly came in my sweatpants. Gods of the ancestors, the sight of that orc-shaped cock disappearing into her sweet folds? It was almost more than I could bear.
But she loved it, and I swallowed down my jealousy. If it couldn’t be my cock sinking deep inside her, then at least I got to watch this magnificent display.
She called for me as she came on that dildo, and only a decade’s worth of control kept me from reaching for my own cock and stroking myself to completion.
But I didn’t, because I’d spent years proving to myself my cock didn’t have to be involved to bring pleasure. Sami’s pleasure—my wife’s pleasure—was delicious enough without my cock being involved. This was what I deserved, and I was so fucking lucky to be able to experience her ecstasy.
So yeah, I rolled her over and licked her sore little pussy until she came again, and that was good enough for me. It had to be.
We’d been married for three weeks when I woke up early one morning. The late summer sun was just beginning to paint the eastern sky purple, and I didn’t have to be at the job site for another three hours. I was finishing up my contract with the new condos, and soon I’d switch over to working on Abydos’s new home, giving him the polished teak-and-glass look he’d asked for.
He hadn’t returned to Eastshore—or even visited his East Coast plant—since my wedding.
I couldn’t help but feel hurt by that.
This morning, though, as I stared down at the female in my arms, I had the sense thatthiswas what the ancestors had wanted for me. I wasn’t settled, and I wouldn’t be until we knew what would happen with Montgomery. But here I had a loving wife who made me smile, who accepted who I was and what I could offer her.
So why did I still feel so…sharp? Itchy? Irritated? Was it only because of Montgomery? Or because, despite all the reasons I should be happy, I didn’t feelcomplete? When I saw Aswan settled with Hannah and the kitlings, or any of the other Mated pairs on Eastshore, I saw males who were where they were supposed to be.
You’re not Mated to Sami, you’re married. There’s a big difference.
Yeah, there was.
And despite this bliss, we were still keeping secrets from one another, weren’t we?
Hiding my sigh of irritation—irritation at myself—I slid my arms from around my wife and rolled gently from the bed, padding to the bathroom to start my day.
That’s why, when she finally joined me in the kitchen, the pancakes and sausages were almost done. “Good morning,” she yawned as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion.” I bent to brush a kiss against her temple. “Just wanted to surprise my wife.”
Her shy grin made it worth it.
“Let me see your shirt,” I commanded, and obligingly, she held out the T-shirt she’d wriggled into this morning.
“STFUACOTDLADLS,” I read. “That’s a tough one.”
“You’ll never get it,” she challenged with a wink as she went up on her toes to pull down my favorite oversized mug from the cabinet, the movement yanking up the hem of the shirt and revealing the delicious curve of her ass, covered in green cotton panties.
Down boy, I warned both my cock and myKteer, and tried to focus on the letters on her T-shirt.
“Uh…shut the fuck up, I got that. How about…” I grinned. “After Cuddling Orcs Twice Daily, Life Always Does Look Sweeter.”
She burst into giggles, then stretched up on her toes to kiss my cheek, which frankly made me feel like a damn hero.
We plated the food without speaking, and she set my coffee at my place at the kitchen table. I had aplaceat her table. She knew how I drank my coffee. I knew she preferred her pancakes with syrup but no butter, and that she poured that syrup all over her sausages too.
Would she teach her kids to do that?
I felt my lips tug against my tusks as I grinned, imagining Sami surrounded by a handful of little girls, all her mini clones: blonde hair, wide green eyes, curious questions, wry smirks, and brave hearts.
Deep in my chest, myKteerjolted, imagining her as a mother. I’d never considered children of my own, but sometimes I ached to save the kids who needed it.
It wasn’t until the pancake dropped from my spatula into the pan again that I realized I was gripping the utensil so hard I’d bent it. Cursing quietly, I reshaped the metal and scooped the last pancake onto the stack I’d been making, then carried it to the table.
