“Then aren’t ye a right potty mouth, Mrs. Pee in the pots, cursin’ like a bloody sailor.” The smug look on his face, the cocky lilt of his voice, told me I’d just taken the bait. The bastard had been messing with me the whole time!
“Oh! You!”
Arms crossed, he leaned forward, grinning in the face of my fury. “Oh, yes, me.” Leaning casually against the entryway, he smirked, flicking a thick finger over the end of my nose. “Ye aren’t goin’ ta screw in me spot now, are ye?” A deep, rumbling chuckle tumbled out of him when I jerked away from his touch, his head thrown back when he let go completely, bellowing out a laugh.
That’s alright, he didn’t see it coming when my eyes flashed blue and I sent him flying into the hall, either.
Boom. Thump. “Bleedin’ hell!”
Snarling my displeasure while Calder giggled, clapping his hands at his mum, I glared up at Quaz and Troll when they stepped over Ketik, still pissing and moaning, and walked right into the room.
“Pay up,” Troll muttered, fingers unfurling for Quaz to drop a small charm into it.
Picking up a bar of soap and a fresh change of clothes, I gave the two a warning look. “I should send you two flying too,” I grumbled, pushing past them and out of the room. “Watch Calder. I’m going to have a soak.” Ketik groaned and grunted when I made sure to step a little too hard on his hip as I passed. “And I don’t wish to be disturbed. By anyone.” There, that was clear enough.
“Hey!” Troll called. “What did we do?”
“He,” I waved my bar of soap at Quaz, glancing at them from over my shoulder, “bet I’d lose.”
“An’ what did I do?” I could hear the laughter in my male’s voice, badly disguised.
“You didn’t bet enough.”
His booming laugh, echoing behind me, lightened the mood a little as I made my way deeper into the catacombs.
****
“Ye sleepin, woman?”
“No,” I mumbled, peeling Calder’s little fist from my face for the third time, “but I’d like to be.”
“I’m thinkin’ the beastie needs his own quarters,” he muttered, grunting when a little foot kicked him in the gut. “Or at least a bed of his own.”
Rump hanging off the edge of the bed, arm and neck cricked, I seconded the motion. “Agreed.”
Several minutes passed and I closed my eyes, scooting until tumbling tail bone first onto the hard dirt floor wasn’t imminent.
“Nugget?”
About to drift off, I feigned sleep.
“Nugget?”
Lids lifting, I stared at him. “What?”
“What were ye-” Calder stirred and he quickly lowered his voice to a whisper, lifting his head to watch me in the dark. “Ye never told me.”
“Hmm?”
“At the river’s edge, under Ketik’s bridge.”
“Oh,” snuggling down farther, I said around a yawn, “I was thinking about the cave—your cave.”
More silence, and then, “What about it?”
“I just miss it sometimes, that’s all.”
“Ye... ye do?”
I chuckled quietly at his baffled tone. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“It dinna stir up bad memories fer ye?”
“No. Maybe at one time, but not anymore.”
The bed creaked as he shifted his weight, and when he spoke again, his voice was much closer. “Nugget?”
“Uhm-hmm?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I stopped thinking-”
“No,” he interrupted, orange eyes flashing in the dark, “I mean, why were ye thinkin’ of it.”
“I guess you could say, it’s sort of... home to me, uhm, in a way. You know?” I didn’t want him to think I didn’t like living here in the caves below Under, and I understood this was home to him, but it didn’t necessarily afford one privacies that one might normally otherwise have.
Intimate privacies that had me crawling out of my skin as the urge to tackle him to the ground, wad up my night dress and stuff it in his mouth, then mount his surly Ornthren hide and ride him, hard, right now.
The long soak I’d taken didn’t help matters much, nor did the jump I took into the river shortly after, but I had to be patient.
My nails dug into my palms. Patience. A virtue I’m beginning to think I no longer possess.
“Really?”
Did I want to screw him three ways to Sunday? “Of course.” That came out louder than I’d intended.
“Huh?” Troll leaned in closer, frowning.
“I’ve been wanting to- Oh. You meant the cave.” Clearing my throat as my face heated, for lack of a better thing to do, I mumbled, “Sorry. I’m tired,” and faked a yawn, “must be the sleep and... lack of it, talking. Good night!”
“Wait. What did ye mean?”
“Nothing. Nothing.” Huddling down farther into the blankets, I took a cue from Calder and slowly slid them over my mortified head. If only I could put my foot in my mouth like my little Ornthren son too.
“Nugget?”
Easing my breathing, I faked a light snore.
Troll grunted but rolled over. “Know yer snore, woman, an’ that aint it. Sound like a damned bear chokin’ on snot, ye does, no’ a fartin’ whistle.”
Lips pursed, I glared at the back of his head through the thin sheet, tempted to whop him one.
“Last I checked,” he chuckled, shaking the bed as his shoulders shook, “ye dinna snarl in yer sleep either.”
Whoops! Clamping my lips shut tight, I stilled the discontented grumble rumbling my chest.
“Means so much to ye, luv, ye can have yer secret.”
Relaxing, I melted into the furs underneath me.
Mumbling under his breath, he huffed, “No’ like I canna get it outta ye later, if I wished it, anyways.”
Oh, if only he knew.
Tipping Point
“I can’t take this anymore.”
Glancing up from the stool he sat on, Calder gnawing on a small, meaty bone in his lap, possibly wild dragon or feral gryphon meat, the non-shifting kind, I marched over and held my hand out.
Watching me curiously, he handed Calder over to Quaz, who nodded and placed his nephew in his lap, both of them continuing on with their supper, Troll took my hand as I turned and tried to drag him from the room.
“Nugget?” he rumbled curiously.
“Not. A. word.” Forcing myself to take deep, even breaths, I led him deeper into the back catacombs, closer towards the center of the Ornthren labyrinth.
Glancing around when we reached the large, open section with small pockets blanketing every corner, warm air rushing up from all the millions of tiny holes dotting the walls, I dropped his hand to recover the small bundle I’d hidden away.
Carrying it back to him, I unfurled the long animal pelt at our feet, flattening it out on the ground.
Starting to lose some of my courage as he took in the empty cavern, cocking his head curiously as he stared down at me, I dropped to my knees and immediately got to work, tugging at the straps of the poor excuse of a scrap of material covering his manhood.
“Nugget, what are ye doin’?”
“Trying... ugh... to get you... argh. Naked.” Tugging the little strips that were much sturdier than I’d accounted for, I pressed a hand to his thigh for leverage, curling my fingers around the stubborn strip with the fist still gripping his tamptet, scowling up at the offense bit of material blocking my way. It wasn’t this hard to divest him of it last time, was it?
His cock, already half erect, rose to attention, jerking when I gave up on stripping him of his little loin cloth, lifting the flap and tucking it off to the side, exposing his engorged flesh.
“Beautiful,” I muttered, taking him in hand to caress him from root to tip.
Thick and long, straining out towards me, the head flushing a deep purple, a small drop leaked from the tip.
Fingers trailing down farther, I caressed the two
large, hairless sacs dangling below, testing the weight of them in my hand as it elicited a soft groan from my bonded, before returning my focus to his shaft.
Leaning forward, my tongue peeked out to have a taste, lapping up the small bead before it had a chance to fall, stroking along the seam of his slit.
“Ah, shi- Nugget.” Troll’s hands shot out as he let out a long, pained groan, thick hands gripping my shoulders as I slowly parted my lips, enveloping his length slowly as it slipped inside the wet, hot cavern of my mouth. “Fuck. Me.”
I intended to, but first. Pulling back, I shot up and started tugging at the top of my blouse, yanking it from my skirt hastily, though I tried not to rip it, kicking out of the soft leather boots Quaz had helped me fabricate using the chimera pelt I’d seemingly mistaken for some kind of dragon.
Wrestling out of my top, Troll’s hands stilled me. Still half on and half off, I couldn’t see his face with the voluminous cream material slapping me in the head.
“Wait.”
“What?” Incredulity, whether muffled by the material or not, was plain enough to hear as I squawked in distress. Shoving his hands off, I gripped the hem and threw it over my head, tossing it somewhere off to the side. “Wait? We can’t wait! We don’t have much time.”
Scowling hard—not that he doesn’t normally—another pang of worry hit me. What if I was wrong and he doesn’t wish to continue? He hasn’t tried at all, and the initiation attempts on my part these past few times has all been rather one-sided. It took everything in me not to cover myself, my swollen breasts, recently fed from, prominently out on display, only my thin shift barring them from the room’s cooler air and his glowing orange gaze.
Hands faltering at the waist of my skirt, nipples peeking from beneath my chemise, hard, beaded little points arching towards him, I eyed myself uncertainly. No, I didn’t look the same as I had before Calder, child bearing does that to you, but... “D-d-o-o you not... want me?”
“Dinna say that,” he rumbled out after a moment’s hesitation.
Glancing down at the firm erection he was sporting, bobbing thickly as it jutted up and out into the crisp, cavern air, just this side of chilly, I’d say a certain part of him certainly wasn’t averse to the idea.
Slowly lifting my gaze to meet his, his expression unreadable, apprehension set in. Had I really read him so wrong?
We just stood there for what felt like an eternity, his large orange eyes glowering down at me unblinkingly, boring into mine while I waited for him to say anything that might salvage my fragile dignity, searching for something in my pale blues gaze so hard I felt like he was trying to see clean through me.
“You didn’t say you did, either.”
As his lips parted, he had a few starts and stops, for once at a loss for words. “I dinna... Ye know... When ye was...”
Maybe, if the topic wasn’t about us hopping back into a particular saddle, I would have found his fumbling adorable. Right now, right this moment, I just wanted to kick him.
“Right.” Feeling rather rejected, my throat worked as I burned with humiliation.
“That’s no’ what I mean,” he growled low, frustration lacing his voice.
Is this him turning me down gently?
“Forget I even asked.” Incapable of even looking at him anymore, my eyes dropped to my feet, right along with my stomach. I wanted to throw something at him or run from the room, scream at him, knock some sense into his thick skull—he’d wanted me at one point, I’d been so sure of it. What had happened? What’s changed? Why don’t you want me?!
“Quit yer growlin’, woman, an’ give me a minute. Need ta think it out before I be speakin’.” Jaw flexing, his eyes shifted, inky tendrils enveloping those vibrantly bright irises.
“Might want to put your front flap down then while you do that.” Waving a hand, I gestured to his throbbing manhood, an angry purple flush along his cockhead. “Might take a while.” Childish, maybe, but I wanted to prick at him as he had me. My pride could only handle so much, and it had reached its tipping point.
“Mouthy wench,” he snarled low, still rooted in place, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he scowled at me.
Mumbling under my breath what I thought of that, I pivoted on my heel and scrambled to my shirt, fumbling on my knees as I tried to snatch it up and yank it over my head, ready to flee the room.
It wasn’t to be, and I almost went top over bottom as I slipped and flopped forward. Fisting the shirt in my clenched hands as I grunted, knuckles white, I forced back the moisture rimming my eyes.
I hated feeling like this, shame washing over me for nit picking at him, and about such a thing. It was mean and uncalled for. He can’t help it if that’s how he feels, and I should respect that.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, shoulders slumping, “I just missed you and wanted to feel close with you. I feel like...” One lone tear fell, but no more. Snuffling quietly, I mumbled, “I don’t feel whole.” Swiping the measly tear away with a quick swipe, I peeked over my shoulder at the spot where he stood. “Forgive me?” My words fell flat as I stared, bleary eyed, at the empty space, and my chest cracked a little. He was gone.
The wedge I felt like I’d just shoved between us split me wide open. A harsh gasp, bordering on a sob, filled the room as my chest felt as if it had just been stomped and smashed, then ripped in two. Grimacing as the mental anguish and the physical collided, clutching at my hand over my heart, I stumbled to my feet, slightly dizzy.
I’d barely stood up when he was suddenly there, furnace like body heat rolling off of him in waves. Thick arms wrapping around me tight, he shoved me roughly to his chest, piercing black scowl firmly in place, looming right over me as his teeth clacked noisily.
Letting out a shrieked ‘eep’ of surprise, I jumped as he growled low.
“Dinna want ta scare ye. Was goin’ ta try an’ be a bloody gentlemen, a regular panty-waisted human fer ye, fuck ye when I showed ye me surprise, nice an’ slow. Too late now, though. Ye’ve gone an’ done it, ye did. Canna stand the sight of yer blubberin’, woman. Does somethin’ to me.”
I’d stiffened at first, expecting the worst, yelping when he dropped to his knees and plopped me unceremoniously on my large rump on the ground. Gripping my hips in his wide, oversized hand, he rolled me onto my stomach, pinning me in place as he fisted my chemise.
“Daft female. Ye drive me mad.” Hunching his large frame over mine, his knees wedged between my thighs, spreading them wide.
Chest thumping wildly, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, my sex, pounding at my temples, everywhere. I felt alive.
“Only because you drove me there first.” Breath hitching, I shuddered, tingling as his fingers ran up my spine. I wanted this—him—just like this. This is my Troll. I wanted no other.
“Cheeky wench,” he muttered, a deep chuckle vibrating up my back. Pausing for just a moment, he blurted, “Ye dinna drink anythin’ ye dinna make yerself, aye? Eat a plant or sip from a well, eh?”
“What?” Trying to peer over my shoulder at him as he studied my exposed sex, I watched him as he glared down between us, eyes fixated, fingers dipping to test my wetness.
At the first stroke he knew I was ready, practically dripping for him as his strumming thumbs made a wet squelching noise. Growling softly under his breath, chest heaving, I could feel his heavy length bumping along my upper thigh as he fought for control.
“Troll?”
Head shooting up, eyes blazing orange fire as they bore into mine, I smiled.
“This is me wanting you, because I want you, no other reason, alright?” At his short nod, I promised, holding up a hand, “I feel like our bond is still... sort of...” How do I put this delicately?
“Broken,” he finished, as if he felt the same exact way. Expression softening, he reached out to touch my cheek. “Felt it meself too.” Clearing his throat gruffly as he pulled back, he muttered, “Dinna wish ta push ye, what with, uh, all an’, uh, all tha
t.”
“I do.” Settling into position, I lowered my head to my arms, peeking at him from beneath my folded forearms as I wiggled my behind a little. “But I feel half empty without our bond strengthened. I want this.” Taking a deep breath, I admitted softly, “I need you.”
“Magic words, me love,” he rasped, voice thickening. “Ye have me. All ‘o’ me. Love yer naggin’ arse, Nugget.”
“I love you too, you grumpy old troll.”
“Now,” with a quick slap to my ass and a barely withheld chuckle, he barked, “hold still so I can fuck ye proper!”
Stifling a snort, my hair fell over my shoulders, masking my expression as I muttered wryly, “Oh, my knight in shining grey skinned armor. Be still my heart.”
“Ye bonded yer delectable ass to a troll, woman.” His huge hands kneaded said rump. “What did ye expect? Flowers an’ poems an’ shite?”
“No, I expected this,” I wiggled my bum against his shaft, basking in his heartfelt groan, “but I’m beginning to wonder if you’re up to the task.”
“Fightin words,” he hissed out gutturally, his thick body pressing tightly along my length as he lurched over me. “Now ye’re gonna pay.”
Biting my lip to stifle a smile, I let out a low moan as two thick fingers slid along my seam, rasping along my clit before they stopped at my sex. Dipping in slightly to slide right back out, he stopped only when I lost it and slammed back against him, trying to force those thick digits deeper, crying out his name.
“Be thinkin’ ye’re ready now,” he rumbled low.
I was ready days ago. This was agony.
A frustrated whimper left me when he drove his fingers in suddenly, pressing deep. Crying out, my sex started to pulse around them as he quickly slid them back out.
“Troll!”
“Say it, luv, ye know ye want ta.” Breath hot against my ear before he nipped the tip, I heard the unmistakable sound of him sucking his fingers into his mouth, licking off my juices.
Say it? Say what?
“Fuck me! I want you to fuck me! Right now! Hard!”
“No’ what I’d had in mind,” he chuckled, voice husky with possession, “but I can assure ye, no sweeter words have ever been uttered so harshly, an’ wit’ all the love of a foul-mouthed sailor.”
The Toll Page 50
