The Orc King's Captive Read Online Free

that the orc had lived
to tell the tale made her feel a grudging respect for him.
    "So why aren't you in
charge, Half-mouth?" He certainly was a big enough lout, on par with the
king, and he had the scars to prove he knew his way around a battlefield.
    Half-mouth laughed softly, a low
rumbling that sounded a little like a growl. "I see why Kerlok likes
you," he said. "Even after he makes you his bitch, you still act like
a queen, playing games with words and trying to move us like pawns." The
orc stood up and left the room, letting the door fall closed behind him.
    Not half as dumb as he looks. She felt a cold shiver pass over her.
    ––––––––
    Q uolondra spent the rest of the
day staring at the walls trying to ignore the ache in her shoulders and the
sounds of battle. For amusement, she tried to remember how she'd come to
acquire each perfume bottle on her dressing table, and tried to entice birds to
fly in through the windows. She was thirsty and needed to urinate, but she
doubted she'd be afforded either luxury any time soon. That was fine; she'd had
plenty of time to learn patience.
    At dusk, Kerlok kicked open the
doors.
    He was covered head to toe in
blood. Bright, rose-red elvish blood. Quolondra felt sick to her stomach and
turned away.
    Two guards followed him into the
room and began undoing her shackles. Quolondra watched out of the corner of her
eye as the king began stripping off his armor.
    The guards held her until he was
completely naked and then let go of her wrists. She felt the blood flow back
into her arms and rubbed them gratefully. Kerlok made a motion with his head
and they left the room, looking over their shoulders at her as they left.
    Kerlok towered over her, his
muscular chest rising and falling rapidly. He was breathing hard, fresh from
the battlefield. She barely came up to his chest. She looked down, his cock was
already hard, thick with veins.
    "Are you still killing my brothers
and sisters?"
    Kerlok grabbed her by the
shoulder and spun her around. She felt the palm of his hand smack her between
the shoulder blades and she went down on the feather mattress, face first over
the foot of the bed.
    She felt his rough hands spreading
her open, then Kerlok lined up the tip of his cock with her slit and forced it
in.
    She cried, eyes watering from
the burn.
    He pushed his cock in until his
pelvis pressed her backside, finding places inside of her that had never been
touched. She grunted. In all her hundreds of years she'd never experienced this
kind of stretching. It was painful, but instead of fear and rage, the sudden,
violent assault triggered an inexplicable explosion of excitement.
    He gave her a couple of
peremptory thrusts, letting her body adjust to his girth, then began to pump
her rapidly.
    She moaned but tried to make it
sound like a cry of reproach. It was sick and wrong for her to want this, to be
excited by the weight of his monstrous body bearing down on her, to revel in his
hard, sweaty flesh as he fucked her, but she could no more control her emotions
than she could the beast who inspired them.
    He fucked her hard, releasing
his anger and frustration through his prick, forcing her to groan and whimper,
pain mingled with pleasure. The slap of his hips on her buttocks, the flogging
of her clit with his heavy, swinging balls, the deep penetration of his
thrusts, drove her wild with excitement. She bit the blankets, twisting them in
her knuckles, trying to hide her ecstasy from her attacker, but to no avail.
    Her cunt seized up, gripping his
cock, and a massive orgasm swept her reservations aside like paper castles. She
bucked wildly, cumming hard all over his prick. Her response seemed to catch
him off-guard, and suddenly she felt his entire body go tense. His shaft
swelled, jerking roughly inside of her as the first load of spunk painted her
womb. He came again, filling her with flooding heat as he groaned and trembled.
The fierce pulsations triggered her again, making her