Page 36 of Finding Her Luck
She turned in his arms, found his head at a reasonable level, kissed the corded muscles on his neck, the raised, thick muscles of his shoulders. Opened her mouth and found herself biting him back, licking and tasting. She found his ears, the skin here thin and sensitive, making him shake in response and say her name, low, rough, needy.
There was noise from the nest: the war beasts. Urku-ri turned his head, vocalized something unpronounceable, and two of the great creatures climbed out of the nest and out of the room.
Giving his attention back to Corrin, he kissed her. "Corrin smell good. Urku-ri redress. Mine," he said against her neck. One hand was at her breast, weighing, lifting, testing, thumb slipping back and forth in that slow, measured way of his that was maddening. Before he bent his back and his tongue laved her there. On her nipple. Black, seductive, with the soft, pink underside and the strange tattoos, the sight and feel of his mouth on her made her whimper.So good.
It was more than just the physical things he did to her, the way his touch woke up every nerve-ending, poured life into her, stimulating and pleasuring. It was the sight of him, monstrous, different from her, masculine to her feminine, savage, and powerful to her civilized and weak. The contrasts excited her, made her wet and ready to have him take her over.
He loved to take her over. To take and give as he wanted. Make her forget herself. His focus pressed in on her, swiped her thoughts and questions away. She'd meant to stop this, push him away, explain that she was still on her cycle, but Corrin couldn't hold on to her complaints.
He always knew where and how to touch, as if he made a concentrated study of her. He kept at her breasts, feasting with his dangerous Orki teeth, sensual tongue, and mouth until she was panting, and her hips were bucking. His hand between her legs. He just held her there, sideways, not moving, not fingering her, not pushing in. Until need made her mindless. It was not enough. She grabbed at his wrist, while his tongue and mouth toyed with her breast. She was trying to pull up, to get some pressure. Her clitoris had swelled imprudently. She felt it pulsing. Waiting. Wanting tapping and circles and his touch. Wetness leaked out of her, dribbled down her thigh onto his hand, communicating without words what she wanted. "Urku-ri," she said his name.
He wasn't listening properly.
He hummed in answer. Mouth busy. No longer playing with her nipples with the tip of his pointed tongue, he started to suckle like a babe. Suckled like there was milk for him, tongue flat, drawing deep. Her hips jerked and womb pulsed with each deep suck.
Corrin clawed at him. She couldn't budge his hand, couldn't move to get what she needed, where she wanted it. Need built, coiled inside of her, all centered on that bundle of nerves at the top of her slit. She tilted her hips, arched her back, contorted herself to make him move his hand. "Urku-ri," she whined. "I need you. I need more. Please. Inside. Inside." Finally, thankfully, his hand moved. Her hands still on his wrist, she braced herself against him to keep from falling at the first touch against her ripe center. But he kept his big paw vertical, not cupping her, not tapping her or going inside. Corrin was lost, whimpering, bent her legs, ground down and rode the edge of his hand. Took her pleasure.
Her whimpers turned to soft, little cries that she couldn't stop if she wanted. She rode him like that, with his mouth sucking, his hand still. Pressing down, finding the spot. The right spot. Sought the rhythm, creating her own pressure. Used him for her needs.
She took him this way. Rode his hand to get what she wanted. Bucking with a full-body spasm when the pleasure bloomed, Corrin was still gasping, trying to breathe past the peak when hands enclosed her waist and he picked her up. Setting her bottom on the closed lid of one of the chests, Urku-ri stood, positioning himself between her legs. The hard, cold surface met her nude back, cushioned only by the fall of her upbraided hair. He pushed her knees to her ears, setting his cock at her sopping wet feminine entrance. "Urku-ri see to Corrin's needs."
Eyes on her, connected with hers, he filled her up in one thrust, pounding hard right at the tender entrance to her womb.
She thought he shouldn't be there, as if he were tunneling under her ribs all the way to her heart. He shouldn't shove again and again at her center, where it hurt so much and felt so good.
"Take all," the beast commanded her. "Take all Urku-ri."
He held her hips in his hands, so big he could spread open her bottom, opening her like a ripe peach for his thrusting. She held her knees to keep them from knocking her in the face, held tight to keep from shattering into a million pieces with no ending and no beginning. "Open for me. Corrin must open. Take all."
He growled. Had been growling all along. That sound invaded, as always. It was her weakness, rolling down her spine, finding the secret way inside, making her womb spasm and open.
She screamed when he suddenly slid in further, and she felt all of him, the ridges, his absurd thickness, all of him inside of her. "Yessssss," he hissed in triumph. "Yes. My Corrin. Mine takes all. Mine. I see you. I see you.Ni-orki-ror-ness."
It hurt. Her insides contracted around him even as his body did that thing, swelling bigger than was reasonable, flaring at one end and bulging at the other to lock inside her while he seeded her womb. It hurt. His being so deep, filling her so well, hurt her all the way to her soul. But she was too busy
coming to notice.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LUCKY GIRL
Corrin found herself still naked, opening her eyes in the nest after Urku-ri's vigorous attention. Two of the war beasts were gone, but Searnon was curled around her on one side and her mate, the smaller, Durrit on the other. Corrin's stomach grumbled with hunger. Searnon grumbled back at it, licking a wide swath over Corrin's belly.
A displeased sound escaped Corrin at the feel of the animal's mothering tongue. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but it just seemed gross to be licked up one side, then the other by the giant creature. Searnon made disgruntled noises at her, and Corrin thought she might have hurt her feelings. Until the cold black nose nudged her in the direction of the wooden trencher piled with food waiting on the ledge of the nest.
"Oh, my. Well. Thank you then, I think." Corrin said, standing to get the meal. Which gave Searnon access to cleaning her backside. "Please stop it. I'm not a child. I'll wash after
I eat," she told her.
She grabbed a roundish, baked thing that looked like flatbread with a nutty looking paste spread over it and took a bite. Different, but good. The paste was sticky, and she quickly washed it down with water. There were sliced fruits, like the nut-sized ones Urku-ri had fed her while traveling; thinking of it made her redden. Chunks of meat, tender and perfectly cooked, dominated the plate. How had it had been cooked so well? Wild game could be troublesome to prepare. Making herself comfortable between and on the war beasts, she ate everything. Her belly bulged from the weight of it all. The first full meal in weeks.
"Who made this?" she asked Searnon.
Searnon gave her a grumbling grin, showing teeth.
The room glowed yellow, lit by low burning Orki torches, Corrin snuggled in the bowl of the nest with killer war beasts all around her—giant, warm, furry pillows. She reclined back, letting the food settle. Her feet lay over Durrit's back, her weight braced against Searnon's side, Corrin couldn't see much of the surrounding space. The ceiling above danced with shadows.
She again noticed its unusual smoothness. "Someone built this.Carved it. Who? I don't get the feeling that any of the Orki I've met are craftsmen. Not to assume anything, but Urku-ri had said theywerewar. Warriors all. What do you have to say about it, Searnon? Durrit, are you anymore forthcoming than your nestmate? And where has Urku-ri gotten to? Sneaking off again?"
