The room fills with silence. I stare at my husband, trying to muster the courage to do what I intended. He’s tied to the bed, his arms behind his back, and I’m standing by the steaming bathtub. I never thought my life would come to this, and I’m still unsure of whether this is exactly where I’m meant to be or the right moment to start panicking.
“Come here, Violet.”
Marut’s deep voice pierces the quiet. I move my feet before I even consciously decide to do so—he has that effect on me. I cannot deny him anything, and though I had the idea of taking the reins and doing things my way, I’m grateful for this quick order from him.
I near the bed—but stop before I reach him. Now that I’ve started moving again, my blood thrums in my veins, and I remember what I meant to do. Which is tease him a little and keep all the control so I feel safer taking this big leap in my life.
“Kiss me,” he commands.
He leans forward, his naked chest on full display. All I’d have to do is take one more step and press my lips to his. Then he would tell me what to do, and I could follow his instructions to ease my way into fucking him for the first time.
But something stops me from obeying. I meet his gaze and smile, feeling both reckless and brave. He narrows his eyes a fraction as if he suspects things are about to go sideways for him.
“Violet?” he prompts.
I reach out and grasp the blanket I used to cover his lap. One good tug later, and he’s exposed again, his cock on display. Marut shuffles his hips, making himself comfortable in bed. From his satisfied grin, I think he’s convinced I’m about to climb in his lap.
Which…would be a good direction to take. Yet I’m not quite done teasing him, and I think he can take a little more. Working fast, I remove his boots and socks, then peel his leather pants off his long legs. Marut helps me, shifting this way and that to make my job easier.
Then I take a step back and take a moment to admire him. In the dusky yellow lamplight, his skin is a darker green than when I saw it in sunlight, but the glow casts his features in sharper relief, accentuating how handsome he is. The cut of his jaw, the planes of his cheekbones—I stare at him in awe, wondering how this male can possibly be mine.
Then I let myself study the rest of him, the broad chest with thick slabs of muscle, the strong legs, and his cock with its large knot at the bottom, ready and waiting for me. Marut doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable with his nakedness at all, so some of my shyness evaporates.
I draw the chemise off my shoulders. It’s made of soft linen, worn from years of use, and my cheeks heat at the thought of what Marut must think of it. I’ve seen his clothes—all finely made and almost new—and mine can’t compare.
But he’s not watching the chemise at all. His gaze tracks over every inch of skin I expose, and when the fabric slips over my breasts, he lets out a rough exhale.
“I am the luckiest male alive,” he groans. “Gods, come here, love. I want to taste you.”
I let the chemise go, and it falls to my feet. My fingers shake as I undo the tie at the waist of my underwear and push it off, then bend over to roll down my stockings. I kick them aside, and when I straighten, I’m completely naked in front of my husband for the very first time.
Marut’s throat works. Another bead of white precum drops from his cockhead to his stomach, and his balls draw up tight as if readying for his release.
“Your hair,” he rasps.
I freeze in place. “What?”
He jerks his chin up. “Will you undo your hair? I would like to see it.”
Slowly, I reach up and pull out the first hairpin. My hair has seen better days. I managed to get a wash in two days ago, when we stopped at an inn that had a bathhouse, and the innkeeper allowed us to use it even though we ended up sleeping in the barn. But Marut doesn’t seem to care—his gaze is riveted on me. I work my way around my head, tugging out one pin after another.
My braids fall to my shoulders, heavy and reaching past my breasts. I gasp—it feels incredible to be free of the pins and the weight on my head. The sense of relief only increases as I undo each of the braids and dig my fingers into my scalp to loosen the tight plaits.
Marut stares at me, his lips slightly parted. “Like copper,” he murmurs. “It shines so bright.”
My chest feels suddenly tight, because no one has ever looked at me this way. I’ve had men leer at me with lust in their eyes, yes, but they wanted me as a thing, a possession to use when they saw fit. Marut stares at me as if I’m a treasure he will cherish forever.
Determination flashes through me, and I take a step away from the bed, then another, until the backs of my thighs hit the warm lip of the tub.
Marut snaps to attention, straightening his shoulders. “What are you doing?”
Ducking around the tub, I grab the soap, then climb over the side, my legs sinking thigh-deep into the hot water. This tub was made for an orc to bathe in and is large to match.
“I need to wash,” I say, keeping my gaze on Marut. “We’ve had such a long trip.”
His frown deepens. “Violet, this is not the time for a bath. I need you here, now.”
I take the washcloth and dip it in the water. “You said you trusted me.”
He blinks, then relaxes a fraction. “I do—”
“Then let me do this?” I rub the washcloth over the bar of soap and lather it up. “Will you?”
“Aye,” he says, his voice hoarse. “You might be the death of me, but do what you must.”
It would feel incredible to sink into the water, let it rise to my neck, and luxuriate in the warmth. But that’s not what I want to do now. Slowly, I run the wet washcloth over my arm, from my fingertips to my shoulder. I bring it to my breasts and wash the underside, then drag it over my aching nipples before sliding it up to my neck. I repeat the movements on the other side, not letting myself rush through this.
Marut follows each movement with a sharp gaze, and his breathing intensifies. “Fuck.” He bites out the curse, and his hips roll, as if he feels the need to thrust. “If you keep this up, I’ll embarrass myself before long.”
The idea of making him come without even touching him has liquid heat spreading through my veins. I need to finish this so I can move on to the next part of my plan. I dip the washcloth again and rinse off my breasts and arms, then run it down my belly and between my legs.
Marut groans as I clean myself, the headboard rattling behind his back. “This was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. I regret everything,” he grumbles. “If I ever suggest this again, hit me upside the head.”
He doesn’t ask me to untie him, though, so I know he’s content to play along. For now. I laugh, but it’s only a breathless huff, because I’m trembling with need. I rinse myself off quickly, then climb out of the bath and bring the washcloth with me.
“May I?” I ask, my hand hovering over his cock.
Marut only nods, his dark gaze burning. I focus on his magnificent body and wipe away the drops of precum, then run the washcloth over the thick length of him. I slide it down to his balls, cupping them through the cloth, and my husband arches into my touch, his hips lifting off the bed.
“Violet,” he forces out through gritted teeth. “Enough.”
I glance up at him, and his expression tells me I’ve pushed him to the brink. Immediately, I drop the washcloth by the bed. But now that I’ve reached the end of my little performance, I don’t know exactly how to tackle this, so I stand there, my hand on Marut’s hip, unsure.
His gaze softens. “Climb up, little bird.”
I let out a sigh of relief at the knowledge that he’s here to help me through this, that he’ll tell me what to do. I clamber onto the bed and, feeling very daring, sit astride Marut’s thighs. They’re thick and warm, and the coarse dark hair feels strangely wonderful against my soft thighs.
“You’ll have to come closer,” he says with a smile. “Aye, even closer.”
Biting my lip, I scoot right up to him until the thick knot brushes up against the thatch of auburn hair covering my pussy. My legs are spread as wide as they’ll go, and air touches my pussy, bringing home the realization of how wet I am—both from my quick bath and from desire. The sensation is foreign but very pleasant, so I wiggle, trying to find a comfortable position. Slowly, I bring my hands to Marut’s shoulders, bracing myself, and he rumbles in approval.
“That’s it,” he says.
Then he kisses me, leaning forward suddenly to capture my lips with his. He swallows my surprised gasp and nudges my lips open, then devours me, nipping and licking. The rough, demanding kiss ignites the simmering heat inside me, and I return each caress, each bite. I run my tongue against Marut’s, chasing his exquisite taste, and he groans, his breaths harsh and choppy.
When I bring my hands to his neck and wrap my fingers around his braids, he leans his head back, gasping. The tendons in his neck strain, so I press kisses there, in the hollow of his throat, then run my teeth over his collarbone.
“Fuck, I could do this forever,” he growls. “But right now, I need to be inside you, Violet. Show me how wet you are.”
I stare up at him in shock. “What?”
He tugs at his restraints. “My hands are tied.” He grins, flashing his tusks. “If I hadn’t had this brilliant idea, I would have spread you open with my fingers first. Got you ready for my cock. Now you’ll have to do it for me.”
My eyelids flutter shut as embarrassment sweeps through me. “I can’t.”
Marut nuzzles the side of my neck. “You can. Keep your eyes closed, love, and do as I say.”
I press my fingertips into his shoulders, and he groans in response. He’s right here with me, on edge, which makes it easier for me to nod in agreement.
“All right,” I breathe.
He kisses my lips again, his tusks scraping lightly over my bottom lip. “You’re doing so well. Now take your hand and reach down to your pussy.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and obey. I reach down my still-damp belly and cup my pussy with my palm. The back of my hand rests against Marut’s knot, and he shifts slightly under me, gasping.
“Now part yourself like you did for me that night,” he murmurs. His lips graze my ear, and his breath warms my skin. “That pearl I licked the other night? Find it.”
Breathing hard, I lean my forehead on Marut’s shoulder, needing that additional sense of connection with him. Then I slide my fingers lower. I’m wet and slippery down there, and it would be embarrassing if Marut didn’t encourage me and tell me how beautiful I am. I’ve never touched myself like this before, but I remember how he made me feel, and I want to experience it again.
The moment my fingertip passes over the slippery pearl, pleasure shudders down my spine. “Ah!” I freeze, almost frightened by the intense sensation, then try again, more slowly this time. “Gods, why does that feel so good?”
I’ve washed myself so many times, but I never had this happen to me, this pulsing need that demands something.
“Spread your slickness all around,” Marut growls. “And try reaching deeper, into your pussy.”
Bright spots dance across the backs of my eyelids as I scrunch up my face. “It’s messy.”
“Aye,” he rasps. “It’s supposed to be. Think of how wet you’ll be when you’re dripping with my cum, love. This is nothing. I’ll fill you up so well.”
If he’s not worried—then perhaps I shouldn’t fret either. “All right,” I breathe. “I-I’m wet all over.”
“Let me taste it,” he commands.
I open my eyes and stare up at him. “Taste it?”
“Your fingers,” he says.
Slowly, I let my fingers slip from my pussy, and I raise my hand to his lips. Marut licks each slick fingertip, eyes closing in bliss. Underneath me, he shifts his legs, and when his knot brushes against my damp curls, we both groan.
“Lift your hips,” he guides me. “Now sit on my cock, Violet. Aye, like that. Don’t rush.”
His rumbling voice fills my ears. I grasp the thick shaft jutting up between us and notch the thick head at my pussy. As needy and wet as I am, I have no idea how this will work. He’s just so incredibly large—and intimidating. And while I’m not small for a human woman, this suddenly seems impossible.
“Marut,” I whisper, looking up at him.
He hisses a breath through his teeth when the tip of his cock kisses the wet lips of my pussy. “Slowly. Press down and let yourself take me. It’ll all work out.”
Biting my lip, I wiggle my hips back and forth, trying to accommodate him. “What if it just won’t fit?” I ask, tension clogging my throat. “I want this, but what if it’s just not meant to be?”
Marut leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of my neck. “You’re my mate. We’ve been matched for a reason, and the gods are never wrong.” Another kiss, and a rasp of his tusks. “By tonight, I’ll know how it feels to come inside you. I’ve been dreaming of this, Violet. Of how your sweet pussy will grip my knot.” He drags his nose up to my ear and inhales deeply. “And you’ve thought of it too, haven’t you? I always smell when you get wet for me, little bird.”
I dig my fingernails into his shoulders. “That’s unfair.” I lift my hips the tiniest degree, then push down. “If you know that about me, I should know the same about you.”
“Hmm.” His chest vibrates with the humming sound that’s almost a purr. “Then perhaps I’ll tell you every time my cock gets hard. Or I’ll let you feel it, and you can decide what to do with it.”
He nudges my chin up and licks into my mouth, kissing me deeply, and I soften for him, parting my lips to return the kiss. And with that, I relax enough to let him inside my body.
The broad cockhead slides into my pussy, and I yelp at the sudden intrusion. There’s a pinch of pain, not severe but enough to startle me. The sound morphs into a low moan as I register the pleasure that follows. Earlier, when Marut guided me to push my fingers into my pussy, that had felt good, but it’s nothing compared to how full I am now. My husband’s cock is a hot, insistent presence inside me. The thick shaft glides a fraction deeper. I relax around it, and my eyelids flutter at the sweet drag of it over a sensitive spot in my pussy.
“That’s it,” Marut encourages me. “So beautiful. Now you’ll take the rest of me more easily.”
His words are rough with desire, and it takes me a moment to comprehend what he said. The rest of me. How much more is there? I lower my gaze to where we’re joined and gasp. My insides clench instinctively, and Marut shouts, throwing his head back.
“Fuck!” His hips snap up, once, and he pushes deeper inside me.
I cry out—in pain this time. It’s shocking how it cuts through the desire I felt a moment earlier. But what set me off is the fact that I’ve only taken the upper half of Marut’s cock. One glance between us told me I’ve impaled myself well, but haven’t gotten close to taking his thick shaft, let alone the knot at the bottom.
“I can’t,” I whimper. “This is too much, Marut. You were wrong, I’m sure of it. This is too much.”
I’m babbling, and to my horror, tears spring into my eyes. This is not how I wanted this to play out. I thought I’d ease myself into the act, but once again, I’ve only proven how inexperienced I am. How unsuited to be a wife to an orc—especially since I now know how much they value touching, hugging, and fucking, too.
Marut’s eyebrows come together in a frown. His shoulders bunch under my grip, and suddenly, he yanks his arms to the sides. He rips through the ties behind his back and shakes off the tatters of his linen shirt.
I gape at him. “What—?” Then the truth of what just happened registers. “But you said to tie you up! Why would you do that if you could get out of it so easily?”
He takes my hands and kisses my fingertips. “Because you needed to feel safe.” He presses his lips to the inside of one palm, then the other. “You needed to be in control.”
I swallow, struggling not to cry. “But—what did you free yourself for, then?”
Marut places my hands back on his shoulders and runs his rough, warm palms up my arms, caressing me. “You need help.” He stares at me intently. “I want to show you that we fit together perfectly. Will you let me?”
I press my trembling lips together, then give him a jerky nod. I want to make this work. I want him, and the thought of failing at this is just too sad to even contemplate.
“Good,” Marut says. “If it becomes too much, tell me. If you’d like, I can lick you like I did before, then we can take that bath together.”
He inclines his head in the direction of the bathtub. I consider it for a short moment, then shake my head. Somehow, his offer to stop has made me even more determined to succeed.
“No,” I whisper. “I want this. I want to learn.”
A grin lights up his face. Then he dips his head to kiss me. This time, it’s not a full assault on my senses as before, but a slow, thorough seduction. He teases and nips, then soothes the sting away with his tongue. His hands roam my back, from the bumps of my spine on my neck down to my ass, where he lingers, squeezing my flesh. I gasp into his mouth as his fingers skim between my cheeks and over my back hole. The sensation sends shivers all over me, and I clench my inner muscles on instinct.
Marut groans, and the sound feeds my growing need. I rock my hips forward a fraction, trying to see if it might feel good to do so. I’m not prepared for the way that triggers a rush of warmth in my belly—I’ve discovered a part of myself I didn’t know I possessed, a lever that turns me almost mindless with desire.
“That’s it,” my husband murmurs against my lips. “Try what feels good.”
He kisses me again, then brings both hands to my front and cups my breasts, his thumbs at my nipples. He plays with them as he licks into my mouth, then pinches my nipples lightly. I jerk my hips down, and another inch of him slides into my pussy, drawing a strangled yelp from my throat. But Marut doesn’t let me linger on the thought—he continues his sultry caresses and teasing kisses, and the pain of his invasion fades quickly, eased by the rush of my own wetness that follows.
With every small slide of progress, I get used to him more, and when I tentatively lift my hips, then sink onto his cock again, we both gasp. It’s all pleasure now, the small pinch of discomfort reduced to memory. The swell of his knot presses against my pussy, and I have no idea how it’ll fit inside me, but I couldn’t believe his shaft would fit either, so I decide then and there to trust him.
Marut puts his forehead against mine. His skin has grown damp with perspiration, and his broad chest rises and falls with quick breaths. “You feel so good, Violet. I never thought…”
He shakes his head, his dark eyes closing for a moment. He almost looks like he’s in pain, so I bring my hands from his shoulders to his cheeks, cupping his face on both sides. I run my thumbs over his cheekbones, then raise my chin to kiss his lips.
“I’m all right now,” I tell him. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. But you have to tell me what to do.”
The feel of him inside me is incredible, but I know there’s more to what we’re doing.
Marut opens his eyes. “You have to ride me, love,” he murmurs. “I’ll help.”
He puts his hands on my hips, tentatively at first, then more firmly when I don’t shy away from his touch. I brace my hands on his chest and follow the gentle guidance he offers, lifting my hips so his cock slides almost all the way out of my pussy, then bearing down again to take all of him.
My eyelids flutter at the unrelenting build-up of pleasure. “I never knew it would feel this good.”
Marut lets out a breathless laugh. “We’re only just getting started, Violet.”
He increases the pace of our movements, and when I dip down again, he rocks his hips to meet me. The added pressure has me crying out, and I stutter in my rhythm. Then he moves one hand from my hip and fits it in the space between us. He finds the slippery pearl at the top of my pussy with his fingertips and rolls it lightly, and my climax hits, starbursts of bliss pulsing through my body.
“Fuck,” Marut growls, his hand at my hip tightening while he keeps rubbing my pearl, wringing every last drop of pleasure from me.
He’s the one supporting me now, because it feels too good to simply float on a wave of warmth. I’m a boneless mess, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced. Then Marut takes my ass with both hands and pushes me down on his cock. The swell of his knot presses against my wet pussy, and suddenly, I feel the muscles of my entrance give, and he slips inside, lodging deep.
I cry out, squeezing instinctively. It’s the most exquisite experience, a fullness unlike any I could have imagined. The knot seems to pulse inside me, and each tiny movement caused by me shifting my weight in Marut’s lap has the knot rubbing against that sensitive spot inside me. My vision tunnels, and for a moment, I think I might pass out from the pleasure, but I focus on Marut’s face instead.
He’s staring down at the spot where we’re joined, his eyebrows knitted in a frown, his lips parted as if in shock. Then he looks up at me, and wonder paints his features.
“Violet,” he breathes.
I dig my fingertips into the muscles of his chest and try to lift my hips—but the knot won’t let me. It feels incredible, and every tiny movement emphasizes just how large Marut’s cock is, and even though I just climaxed, need crests in me once more, too urgent to let go. I only manage to pull on it a bit before Marut clamps his big hands around my waist, holding me in place.
“No,” he rasps. “Wait, I want to feel you. Gods, Violet, you cannot imagine. The way you clasp me so tight…”
His voice is hoarse, his words slurring with pleasure, and I want so badly to give him what he wants, to wait, to be patient, but my body demands its due. I’ve finally discovered what fucking is about, and I want more.
“I need you,” I whimper.
I clasp Marut’s face with both hands and bring his lips to mine, a messy kiss where our teeth clash, and I bite his lower lip until he hisses in pain.
His control snaps between one moment and the next. His fingers dig into my hips hard enough to bruise, but I don’t care, because he rocks me up as much as the knot will allow, a fraction of an inch, then slams me down over his cock. He impales me deeper than ever, and I cry out in pleasure.
Then a rush of liquid heat floods my pussy. Marut roars his release, head thrown back, his hips pumping up into me, and I climax again with him. This time, the pleasure feels darker, stronger, as if the first was just a prelude to the main act, a preparation for what it feels like to come at the same time as my husband.
The room quiets, and only our breathing disturbs the silence, choppy and frantic, but gradually growing slower as we float down from our high. Marut moves his hands from my hips to my back, then wraps his arms around me, holding me close. I relax onto his chest, skin to skin, and don’t even have it in me to marvel at the fact that I’m touching him and he’s holding me. It just feels right, and I have no urge to move whatsoever.
I resolve to think about it tomorrow—tonight, I’m too wrung out to do anything but lie here and enjoy the tingling still racing down my limbs.
“Are you all right?” Marut murmurs.
I unpeel myself from his chest long enough to look him in the eyes. “Yes. This was wonderful.”
He brushes my damp hair from my forehead. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I say. When he frowns as if he wants to argue, I hurry to add, “Not for long. And it doesn’t hurt now.”
Marut runs his palms down my back, all the way to my ass. “It might tomorrow. I’ll get you a salve to help ease the pain.”
I move experimentally and realize we’re still locked together, my husband’s hard cock lodged inside me. “Uh,” I say, glancing down between us. “Marut, how do we…?”
His lips curl up at the corners. “We fuck some more.”
