Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
"But touching you is a pleasure for me," I say softly. "And I want to learn what pleases you, too."
Agakor makes a sound that might be laughter, might be a huff. Either way, he sounds both exasperated and amused at the same time. "If you truly wish to, Iolanthe, I won't protest. But know that I won't require any such thing of you in our marriage bed. I just want you happy and comfortable with my touch."
I smile at his shadowed face. "That's what I want for you, too." I bite my lip, practically beside myself with anticipation. "So…may I touch you?"
"As if I can deny you anything?" He takes my hands in his and glances around the solar. I have no furniture in here yet, other than the tiny table that holds the candle, but the window seat has cushions on it. Old, dusty cushions, but still cushions. His gaze moves over it and then he nods to himself, leading me to the seat and sits carefully on the edge of one. His feet are braced on the floor and he watches me, his expression guarded. Does he think I'll be bad at touching him?
I aim to show him that I can be a good wife in this aspect, too. Eagerly, I reach for his belt at the same time he does, and he stops in surprise. Chuckling, I flick his hands aside. "This is my turn. Let me do it."
"I had no idea you'd be so eager to touch an orc," he muses, letting his hands fall to his sides.
"I'm eager to touch my husband," I correct, tugging at the knot of his belt and loosening it from the ring. It slithers free and I pull it from his waist, tossing it aside. His tunic is longer, reaching mid-thigh and covered with thickly crusted embroidery, as befitting a wealthy bridegroom. It looked nice at the altar, but right now I wish he was wearing a shorter tunic so I could just shove it up and have my fill. Carefully, I fold the tunic upward and tuck it around his hips, so as not to wrinkle it, and I could swear Agakor makes another one of those amused huffing sounds. "You'll want to look nice for our next ceremony," I remind him. "We can't wrinkle or stain things."
"Gods help me, I'm not sure how many more ceremonies I can take." He sounds hoarse, his hand reaching up to stroke my braid. "I'm ready for you to be mine."
His words send a thrill through me, as does the large bulge between his thighs. I'm excited to see his cock again, to see what touches he likes. Tugging at the drawstring to his pants, I loosen them and pull the material down, and his length practically springs free. Oh. It's just as big as I remember, too. I gasp with pleasure at the sight of him, immediately reaching out to touch once more. My fingers skim down the length of his cock, and he feels just as warm and velvety to the touch as before. It's such a pleasure to caress him that I sigh, trailing my fingers over him.
Agakor's cock twitches under my touch, and I notice that he's gone very still beneath me. I realize that I'm practically hovering over him, my other hand pressing on his thigh. I'm probably pushing on him uncomfortably. "Oh. My apologies. Is there a better way to do this? Should I be sitting?"
The muffled sound he makes is pained. As I watch, fascinated, he reaches into his pants and pulls himself completely free, his sac nestling against the material of his clothing even as his shaft juts out toward me. "Some females—ah, ladies—get on their knees."
"I can do that," I tell him eagerly, and drop down onto my knees on the hard wooden floor.
"Wait," he says, and leans forward. "Here." He plucks one of the cushions off the window seat and drops it between his thighs, and somehow I'm paying less attention to the cloud of dust that puffs up this time. I'm too fascinated by the bob and weave of his cock as he moves. It's…hypnotic.
I move forward onto the cushion, unable to take my gaze off of his cock. My hands creep onto his knees and I gaze at him, reverent. "Have you had many ladies touch you between your thighs before?"
"I…don't know if I should answer that, Iolanthe." At his tight voice, I glance up, and he grimaces, his face twisting. "I just…I never expected to have a wife, much less a lady. So I played around with tavern wenches that would have me, and the occasional whore when no one would. But it's been a long time since I've done even that. There's no woman in my life but you."