Tamed by the Troll (The Perished Woods Book 1)

by Tracy Lauren

  “Shhh,” I say, hushing her against her milky neck. “I’m not going to fuck you, Adelaide.”

  She gasps and tries to jerk away from me, but I pin her in place. “I said I’m not going to fuck you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make you cum.”

  I press her legs farther apart, forcing her knees up toward her shoulders and I dive in between, eagerly lapping up all the shining juices dripping from that fine human cunt of hers. I slide my tongue through her folds, ravishing her with my mouth as she sings my name, praising me. Eating Adelaide’s pussy makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. But I won’t fuck her. I’d never fuck Adelaide.

  No. She’s the kind of woman you make love to.

  Chapter 30

  Adelaide

  Brom eats my pussy like he’s never tasted anything better in all his life. The feel of his tongue gliding over my clit brings me close to rapture.

  When young men in my village first began courting me, I did this with a couple of them. I was younger then, shy and stupid. Anything I ever did with a man was done in the dark, or I hid my face under a pillow, waiting for them to finish. But now I want the full experience.

  I look down at Brom, my legs tossed over his broad shoulders. The long ponytail he wears atop his head hangs down to one side, tickling my thigh. His skin is so starkly green compared to the cream color of my own flesh. And his eyes…they practically glow yellow. I bite into my lip, mewling as he focuses in on my clit.

  He looks like a monster, a feral and ferocious beast. I can hardly believe I let him between my thighs…hells, that I begged him to be there. He positions himself lower, pistoning his tongue in and out of my core, flashing me a view of those dangerous fangs of his. My eyes linger on his piercings and all the other things than make him such a far cry from human. The sight of him makes me feel dirty in the most delicious of ways.

  “Gods, Brom,” I manage to say, “that feels so good.”

  “Tastes good,” he growls. “So fucking good.” He sucks at my pussy, making sloppy wet sounds that drive me even closer to the edge. “Are you going to cum for me, Adelaide?” he asks, still lapping at my entrance.

  “I’m close,” I whimper, but I want more. I want his big, hard, monster cock pounding into me. Too bad Brom said he wouldn’t fuck me.

  He moves his thick troll thumb over my clit and the simultaneous sensations of his thumb and tongue bring me that much closer to my climax. “Do you know how wet you are?” he asks, strumming my clit. “Your pretty little pussy is dripping for me, Adelaide.”

  “Fuck, Brom, I’m going to cum,” I tell him. He works my clit and brings his mouth down on me, but to my shock he bypasses my slit and aims for the one place on me that truly is virginal—my asshole. I gasp in surprise, jerking against him, but Brom holds me firmly in place.

  “Cum for me, cum for a troll, Adelaide,” he murmurs against my sensitive flesh, his tongue prodding and teasing me in a brand-new way. It only takes me a moment to realize how incredible this new touch is and it pushes me over the edge.

  My pussy spasms in ecstasy, the first waves of my orgasm hitting harder than I’ve ever experienced. But before the last of my pleasure ebbs away, I’m left with an empty feeling.

  Gods, how I wanted Brom’s cock.

  I watch as he lingers over my womanhood, giving a few farewell licks to my slit before he rises. It’s as if he can hardly pull himself away. The look on his face is so smug I want to slap him. I also want to force him down on the bed and mount that monster cock of his, but I don’t do either.

  Instead, I rise to meet him. He pulls me into a kiss and I nearly melt when I taste myself on his lips. I can feel his stiff cock poking at my stomach and I’m eager for what’s to come next.

  “Get dressed,” he tells me suddenly, passing me my underdress.

  “Huh?”

  “We should go downstairs and order some breakfast.”

  “But, Brom, what about you?” I ask, motioning toward his cock. Surely it must be aching for release.

  My troll groans and digs his fingers into my hair, roughly caressing me. “I only have so much restraint, little one. Touch my cock right now and I might not be able to stop myself from fucking you senseless.”

  “That doesn’t sound terrible,” I tease, reaching for him. But Brom stills my hands, surprising me.

  “Don’t forget our deal, Adelaide. The witch in Briarmere will want a virgin. If I fuck you on a whim we won’t be able to make any bargains with her and I’ll be out my entire stock of magics and a slave to boot.”

  “Oh. Yeah, of course,” I agree, feeling conflicted.

  I’ve been so focused on whatever this thing is between Brom and me. I’m a little hurt his priorities don’t match my own. Instead he’s still thinking about making a deal with the witch. And the reminder makes me nervous. I still haven’t figured out a solution to this whole virgin problem. Will the witch know when she sees me and will she still be willing to make some other sort of deal?

  I know I should be more concerned with the witch, but instead I find myself hung up on Brom’s reason for not fucking me. He seems more concerned with getting something out of all this than he does with the feelings blossoming between us. A terrible thought crosses my mind and I blush with embarrassment. Maybe I’m alone in my affections for the troll. I am a human after all and he never has seemed particularly fond of my race. I recall he mentioned the last woman he was with was fae. I saw an image of one in a book once; they’re magical beings with perfect forms, glistening in fairy dust. I think of my abrasive red hair and my even more abrasive demeanor. Suddenly I feel very self-conscious.

  Gods, I lament. How could I have considered following a fae? My cheeks feel hot when I think of Brom making comparisons between me and his last lover. I mean, I could never stack up against something as magical as a fae.

  “Something wrong, little one?” Brom asks.

  I’m quick to feign a smile. “No, just hungry is all.”

  Chapter 31

  Adelaide

  My eyes keep going to Brom as I dress, and I watch him as he rolls his shoulders and neck, waiting for me. He seems to be preparing himself mentally for whatever is beyond our bedroom door. While I can’t seem to shake the uneasy thoughts from my mind, I bite my tongue, refusing to let Brom in on the self-conscious feeling rocking me. I’ve spent too much of my life being unhappy and I made a vow to try and be something more. I won’t linger in this emotion. So, I tell myself it’s fine if Brom doesn’t want me. Everything will make more sense once I’m in Pontheugh.

  “Are you ready?” Brom asks, bringing me back into the moment.

  “Huh? Oh, yes. Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Let me do the talking around the goblins,” he warns. I nod, acknowledging him. “And take your knife.”

  “Are you expecting trouble?”

  “In my experience trouble comes when you least expect it. Might as well be prepared.”

  I tuck my knife into my belt. Brom must recognize the trepidation on my face, for he tugs a strand of my hair and I look up at him. “You will always be safe with me,” he reminds me, pulling my hood up over my head.

  “I know,” I reply, forcing another shaky smile.

  As I follow Brom down the worn, wooden steps of the inn I hear raucous voices coming from the tavern. They sound nasal and snide in their nature and I deduce they must belong to goblins. I cringe inwardly, not feeling excited to meet more of the unpleasant creatures. However, when I round the corner, my heart seizes in terror. There are about a dozen or so goblins milling about, but standing at the bar is a beast that makes my whole body tremble in fear.

  It’s an orc.

  He doesn’t look up as we enter, his gaze is fixed on something across the room. But Brom notices my not-so-subtle reaction to the orc’s presence. Protectively, he steps a little closer as he pulls out a chair for me. Leaning in close, Brom whispers in my ear. “Trust me, Adelaide.” I nod my head, wringing my hands to quell their
trembling, and Brom pulls his chair close to mine. Even though I don’t know where Brom and I stand I’m thankful for his proximity.

  Still, my anxiety ratchets and I’m hardly aware of anything in the room besides the orc. I cut my gaze to him a few times and notice something is inherently different about him compared to the orcs that razed my village and tried to hunt me down.

  He wears more clothes for one, dressing quite like a human might, with black boots, leather trousers, and a long and embellished coat. The points of his ears are less pronounced too and his skin looks softer than that of the other orcs. Also, where the others were bald, this one has long, thick, onyx-colored hair.

  While I fearfully study the orc, Brom and I are approached by a weathered and wrinkled old goblin. He startles me when he speaks, pulling my focus away from my object of fear.

  They’re ugly little things, goblins are. The one before me wears no shirt, but he has filthy white trousers on and an apron covering his protruding belly. His face is locked in a perpetual scowl and he eyes me with disdain, his long, wart-covered nose pointing at me like a finger.

  “What’ll you have?” he asks, sounding greatly put out by the fact that we’re here at all.

  “Breakfast. Lots of it,” Brom answers. “And some mead as well.”

  “For the both of you?” the goblin asks, raising one heavy brow as he tries to peek under the hood of my cloak.

  “Two breakfasts, just the one mead.”

  “Two of both,” I venture, hoping the drink will calm my nerves. Both Brom and the goblin look at me, each seeming wary of my request.

  “What’s that you say?” the goblin questions, stepping closer to me. We lock eyes and the look he gives me when he sees I’m human is one filled with distaste. I recoil as he closes the distance between us.

  “I said I’ll have a cup of mead also,” I tell him firmly, though my heart is pounding and my skin is crawling.

  The goblin turns his frown to Brom. “You’re going to keep an eye on her?” he demands to know, motioning toward me. “Last thing we need is another human girl around here to bother with.”

  “This one is mine to bother with,” Brom tells the goblin. He snorts at us, giving me one last hateful look before shuffling away.

  I’m left feeling even more uneasy by the interaction. So I focus my gaze on Brom, not wanting to look at the orc’s back any longer. But Brom’s eyes are on everything but me. He watches the room with grave focus and just before I ask him what’s on his mind the goblin chef returns with a tray. He lets our cups bang loudly onto the table, spilling the contents over the edges, then roughly places our food before us.

  There’s scrambled eggs and ham, hash browns, cheese, and smoked fish, and just like that, there’s nothing more interesting to me in the entire room. Last night I was too shell shocked to remember to be hungry, but now the pressing memory comes flooding back in. I need food and real food, not just traveling rations. I shovel forkfuls of eggs into my mouth, pausing only to wash it down with mead. It’s a strong drink, stronger than anything I’ve ever had before, still I gulp it down between ravenous bites.

  It isn’t until my belly begins to fill that the tavern around me starts to filter back into my consciousness. Between the voices, laughter, and drinking, there’s a strange sound that catches my ear. It’s been here the whole time, but only now am I concentrating on it. It almost sounds…pained? My hand stills, fork still loaded with eggs and I look over at Brom. He’s tense, only picking at his food despite the fact he’s likely as hungry as I was a short while ago. I cast a worried glance over to the orc, but when I catch him sharing a troubled glance with Brom I feel confused. So I search the bar, following the orc’s line of sight once he looks away from Brom.

  There’s something happening on the other side of the tavern, partially blocked by a partition. From what I can tell, the goblins seem to be congregating by whatever it is.

  Then, through the din, I hear something that sounds distinctly like a woman…a human woman. Without a second thought, I rise to my feet, pulling my hood back so I can see.

  “Adelaide!” Brom growls after me.

  But I can’t stop. I make my way across the tavern, navigating my way through the mostly empty tables and heading toward the crowd. I can tell Brom is right on my heels and when I round the corner that fact is proved when he runs directly into my back. He catches me before I stumble forward and I cover my mouth in horror.

  Spread out on a table is a human woman, stark naked with her arms bound over her head and legs spread wide. She tugs at her restraints, her eyes looking dazed. There are goblins all around her, naked with their tiny erect cocks hanging out. Atop her, one of them is perched. His hips thrust furiously into the woman and another works to fill her mouth with his tiny prick.

  I cling to Brom, disgusted but unable to look away. Their work is quick and they spray the woman with their cum, I flinch at the sight of it, remembering what Brom told me about the goblins and still not quite believing it. This must be rape. This woman has to be here against her will. The goblins circling her shake their pricks, spraying her with the last drops of their seed. The woman moans in ecstasy.

  “Yes! Gods, yes! Don’t stop!” she begs. The goblins are spent, but a few of them reach over and pinch at her tits before they head back to their seats. The sight makes my stomach turn in revulsion. When she realizes they’re leaving she begs louder, following them with her gaze. “Please!” she whimpers. “Don’t go! You can put your cocks anywhere you want, just give me more! Fuck me!”

  “Brom! Help her!” I whisper frantically, looking up at him with desperate eyes.

  “She can’t be helped,” a low voice says from beside me. I jump, alarmed by the sudden presence of the orc so near to us. Brom keeps a heavy hand on my shoulder, anchoring me, but otherwise doesn’t seem bothered by the orc. Still, I dislike him based on principle alone and once I regain my composure I refute his position.

  “She’s bound,” I point out. “If someone freed her she could get away.”

  “She’s bound to protect her, Adelaide,” Brom puts in.

  “Protect her? That’s the biggest pile of shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “She’s enthralled, little one,” he continues. “That woman is out of her mind and there’s no way to put her back. If she were allowed to wander freely there’s no telling what harm she could cause her body.”

  “At this point she lacks the sense to drink or feed herself without being forced by the goblins. And even then, they have to bribe her to do it,” the orc adds. “I’ve seen it before. These goblins are doing her a favor by keeping her.”

  “You’re insane!” I hiss at him, still not wanting to believe. “These goblins are using her.”

  “These goblins can’t keep up the fucking,” the orc tells me. “That’s why they keep him.” He motions toward a pile of wood along the wall.

  My gaze follows his motion, unsure of what he could be talking about, but then my eyes focus in on something otherworldly. I spring back, aghast, nearly climbing Brom like a tree when I see that part of the log pile isn’t logs at all. The thing moves subtly and I watch in horror as he takes shape before my eyes. He’s unlike anything, a true monster if I’ve ever seen one. He’s haggard and animalistic, with wild fur tufting around his hunched shoulders. His arms are long, hanging well past his knees and his legs look like they belong on a dog. I can’t bring myself to look at his face. He shifts in his seat again and I get the impression he’s sleeping.

  “Gods, they make her fuck that thing?” I gasp.

  “Make her?” the orc scoffs, shaking his head. “Look, human, you’re in the Perished Woods. If you thought this was going to be some kind of magical fairy tale then you’ve got another thing coming. This land is cursed. And the longer you stay here, the greater chance you have of becoming cursed yourself.”

  He turns his attention to Brom, “You need anything before you leave, come talk to me.” Brom gives him a curt nod and
the orc heads back to the bar, giving the woman one last mournful glance.

  “It’s hard to accept, but the half-blood speaks the truth, Adelaide.”

  I look over at the woman. “How did she get like this?” I ask, watching her writhe in goblin cum, licking at her lips in an effort to suck up every last drop she can reach.

  “Sometimes it happens to whores, when they don’t know enough about which beasts not to fuck. I heard of a woman once who bought goblin’s seed and threw it on her ex-lover’s new bride. But most of the time, women are simply curious. They hear stories about the euphoria and they seek it out, thinking just a little won’t hurt them. But it only takes once.”

  I release my hold on Brom and inch toward the woman. She’s a beauty in a certain kind of way—the wanton way, that is. Her body is all luscious curves, the kind that dirty men can’t keep themselves from grabbing. And her hair is long and dark, juxtaposing her haunting, crystalline eyes. She squeezes her legs together, her hips bucking at thin air. After a moment, she notices me.

  “Please,” she whispers. I step closer, expecting her to beg me to help her escape.

  “How can I help?” I ask, keeping my voice conspiratorially low. The mead and the situation make my head pound.

  She stares me right in the eyes as she answers, her voice sounding desperate. “Lick my pussy,” she begs, spreading her legs wide. “Lick it for me, please. I’m so close to cumming. Gods, just suck on my clit, just a little bit.”

  I shake my head, my brain refusing to process what this woman requests.

  “Or you come sit on my face instead, pretty girl. Come on, let me make a whore out of you. You’re going to love it,” she promises, her voice sounding strained. Slowly I back away from her, clutching my cloak and feeling horrified. As I do she starts cumming, her exposed pussy clamping down around nothing. I bump into Brom, still unable to look away from the writhing and cursing woman on the table.

  Just then I notice the little goblin chef coming wobbling over at a hurried pace. “Get out of here!” he yells, grabbing a broom and swinging it.