STRANGE BEDFELLOWS
Itried to sleep, I really did. But all there was to think about was Beth on the ground, her hair bright as a copper farthing, and the long dark legs of policemen surrounding her.
And I was sure Hunter tried to sleep too, but his cock remained stiff against the skirt of my nightgown, a little fluid beading through to kiss my hip.
Goose bumps laced my back where Hunter wasn't touching, and my cunt was hot where I was pressed to his thick thigh. I knew what I wanted, and I was ashamed of myself. I hadn't cried for Beth, hadn't screamed in horror, and now all I could think of was her dead body lying on the sidewalk in Jamaica Street and the cock pressed to my hip. I hadn't thought of Beth while I'd touched Hunter, examined him, and when his nails dug briefly into my ass before retreating, I forgot her again.
I wanted to forget. I wanted to sleep.
I wanted…
I took in a heavy breath, my lips parted against Hunter's skin, the taste of green roots and fresh rain teasing my tongue. I shifted, trying to find a position where his hot skin wouldn't press so firmly against me, and my breasts scraped against his chest as I shifted. His cock twitched and Hunter bucked, and now he was there against the inside of my thigh, those gold beads on his cockhead warming the crease of my hip.
I wanted to fuck and pretend nothing was wrong, to push away the shock and the questions and the fear.
My tongue flicked out to wet my lips and found his skin first. Salty and surprisingly sweet, richer and muskier than his fresh scent, his flavor created a sudden craving on my tongue. Hunter's breath hitched, and those black claws scratched lower into the soft flesh of my ass.
We were frozen, suspended in the quiet of the room and the beats of time between our uneven breaths. Hunter would retreat. He'd proven as much already. There was something cautious and shy in his answers and refusals. I was aware of how absurd I was being, throwing myself at an orc who always tucked my hands away. I should've let him leave, or sleep in the kitchen on my father's bed if he wanted to make sure I was safe. I knew there was interest, but interest didn't necessarily mean intention.
And then his claws dragged back up, gathering a fistful of my ass and nightgown as his hips arched and rubbed against me. Rather than releasing the moan in my throat, I opened my mouth and latched onto the skin of his neck, my hands sliding up to grasp his shoulders. I sucked on his flesh, and it was like drinking down a summer I'd never known, the heart of a bursting garden on my tongue.
Hunter gasped and his hips stilled, but his hands flew up to my head, claws digging into my hair and scratching at my roots. I replaced the motion he'd abandoned, rolling and twisting myself on top of him, scratching the skin under my fingernails, digging my teeth into his skin.
"Ferocious little one," he gasped, bucking again.
Quit resisting, I wanted to say, but I refused to give up this taste of him. I shifted, finding a new spot on his collarbone and sliding myself to sit astride him properly. He was darker here, more like bitter pine needles, and I lapped and sucked greedily, lifting my hips once and drawing my nightgown out of the way.
We both gasped as our flesh kissed, the ladder of piercings on the underside of his cock now pressed to my sex. His hands returned to my ass as I started to ride the spot unabashedly, and I sighed and returned to my feast of skin as he pressed me closer at last. Those little gold beads felt like heaven on my swollen and needy sex, and I ground myself down, movements rough and clumsy.
This wasn't a scene, and while I should've been charming and playful with Hunter, like I would with any other patron, seeing to him more than to myself, this strange and dark moment made me selfish.
Hunter's growl was low as he started to move with me, and I was making his cock glossy and slippery along the bottom. I could've chased to my finish like that with his pretty gold taking care of me, but I wanted more.
Hunter's hands gripped me, tried to hold me in place for a moment, but he let me rise up on my knees, and I watched his eyes widen in the dark as I reached between us, guiding the head of him to my opening.
"Miss Nix—"
I might've waited, but then he used that absurd formal name. I glared down at him in defiance and sank onto his cock. I gasped at the curious little press of the beads at my opening, and Hunter's eyes fell shut on a moan. Then his hands were gripping tight again, and suddenly, we were crashing together.
I bit down on the cry in my throat as Hunter filled me, yanking me down as he thrusted up, and he let out one loud groan before I reached out to slap my hand over his mouth, his tusks an interesting bite against my palm.
"Neighbors," I whispered, rising up and shivering at the drag of him inside of me.
Hunter nodded, licking my palm and humming more softly, some of that raw excitement from a moment ago fading. I wanted it back. The shy and chivalrous orc was sweet and charming, but I wanted the warrior who had earned his scars and piercings, who'd taken me in one unapologetic thrust.
It was harder to do it without his help, but I relaxed my thighs and dropped myself heavily down onto his lap, nearly breaking my own silence as the beads at his base stroked either side of my clit roughly. I whimpered, rubbing and grinding myself in place, still close to the edge, and this time, it was Hunter who grew impatient.
He sat up and lifted me to his tip before immediately pulling me down again. We both dove forward, lips colliding, and while we managed to muffle our voices in a stroking, licking, fucking kiss, there was no quieting the bed, the thump of uneven legs on the floor, and the groan of old boards. I didn't care. I didn't even really care about the neighbors. I just didn't want Hunter being a gentleman. Not when I could have him fuck me with this simple brutality instead.
He grunted as our hips slapped together, and his claws scratched at the back of my neck as he used his grip there to haul us together, stealing my breath with every full pump of him inside of me. I wanted to cry every time he drew free, wanted to pin him down to use those beads for my own pleasure, wanted to sit and just feel the weight and power of him inside of me.
His kiss was still full of the flavor of summer, tongue sharp and long, tickling the back of my throat until I grunted and then retreating. I knew orcs had long tongues, had enjoyed a fair few, and I chased it in the kiss, found it before it vanished and sucked on the tip. Hunter's claws scratched deeper, his arms circling me and pinning me tight to his chest.
He was staying buried now, rocking with short but heavy thrusts, keeping my clit near those teasing beads, and I forgot to stay quiet. The cool surface of the wall kissed my back and my thighs stretched open as Hunter pinned me there, fucking me with quick hard snaps of his hips, holding me still by my neck and ass. I clung to him, thrilled with this new man in my arms, with the wild pound of our hearts together.
He snarled into the kiss and pulled away as I whined. "Come," he ordered, the word almost cruel as his hand circled to the front of my throat. He leaned back and looked down at where we were joined, pressing hard to the spot and rolling his hips so perfectly that I let out a strangely animal sound. His cock was rocking inside of me, the piercing at his base rubbing at either side of my clit.
"Come for me now, little one," he growled as I started to clench and flutter on his length.