Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
I reach into the pack I carried with us and pull out the empty mug and the bota. I pop the top and pour the steaming liquid into the mug as her eyes light up.
“Coffee? You brought coffee for me?”
I nod. “Not just coffee. Mocha coffee. The dark chocolate my mother brought you last week, I shaved and melted into the coffee. You talk of your Starbucks mocha drink often, I want to give you all these things. The best I can.”
“You are the best, Daddy.” She blows me a kiss, kicking her feet and reaching for the mug with excited hands.
“Yes, I agree.” I pull the mug away as she pouts. “There is one more thing.” I set down the mug on the wall next to her and pull out the small leather bag, my cocks standing up, as excited as I am about what’s coming.
“What’s that?” Her blue eyes sparkle in the sun as I lower myself onto my knee.
“Orc do not bow to anyone.” I start, clearing my throat, the tightness gathering in my chest as my heart threatens to burst. “But, I will bow to you, my tiny human mate.”
“Aww, Daddy. I bow to you all the time.” She grins on a little shrug. “While you’re fucking my face or plowing me on all fours.”
Raven laughs, then sees the seriousness in my face. She quiets, swallowing as she waits.
“There are many differences between humans and orcs. But, we have shown there is the possibility for love. For family. In our culture, the mating is all there is, but I know for humans, there is something else.”
I hold out my hand, palm up, and tip the bag forward letting the ring tumble out. I hold it up, it is so small, and my hands are shaking so much I know I cannot pick it up without dropping it.
“You will wife me,” I say as Raven squints and I realize my error. “You will be my wife,” I correct as I nod to the ring.
Her chirping giggle is followed by a soft sob. “We’re going to get married?”
“Yes. However you would like. There are many places, we will plan it together, I will make it everything you want. Just say yes. Human women have to agree to the marriage, is what I’m told. I don’t understand this custom, but I’ll obey it. So, say it, tell me you agree. I’m not giving you a choice, I’m just trying to do it right.”
She pinches the ring in her fingers, then slips it on. “Daddy, it’s just like you!” She quips. “It’s huge! I’m not even going to ask where you got it.”
“Good idea.”
I’ll tell her someday. I went scavenging in an old apartment building in the city. It took hours for me to find a safe, which I threw out the window then raced down to see the contents.
Unfortunately for two other coalition raiders, they thought they’d found a jackpot. They snatched up the ring before they knew I was behind them. They aimed their guns at me but I left with the ring. They didn’t go anywhere. I’m sure the vultures and rodents have picked their bones clean by now.
“So, say it,” I demand.
“Yes, of course I’ll marry you. You’ve already knocked me up, so…” She shrugs and opens her arms.
“Good girl.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, jumping forward, feet snaking to my back.
A pulse from my balls and an ache in my cock tell me it’s been hours since I fucked her. “Now, do you want your coffee?”
She wiggles herself onto my searching first cock, mounting her pussy on the tip.
“Later. I think the best way to celebrate our engagement is a little double penetration fuck out here in front of God and whoever else wants to watch.”
I slide her down, her tight heat enveloping the first few inches of my erection as my second cock springs to life, dancing at her other entrance as she drops her head back.
“Daddy,” she whispers to the sky. “Make me your best, dirty baby girl.”
“Always,” I grunt as I plow into both of her openings, her moans of pleasure lighting up my heart.
Chapter
Twelve
Raven
Epilogue ~ Four Years Later
The sound of the kids laughing and the sight of Mol letting them swing from his outstretched arms makes my heart smile. I finish up the last dapples of paint on my newest canvas. I have a nice little side business going, doing portraits and other commissions. I use my refurbished bus as my studio.
Mol and his brothers fixed it up for me after the fire, and although he forbids me from riding it most of the time, even my little Yamaha is still humming along.
He holds the thick ropes of the handmade swings in each fist. Pettrie, our oldest, is three, and De’via, our youngest, is eighteen months. They are smaller like me, and a perfect genetic combination of both our looks.