Once-a-month parties—while very lucrative—were hardly enough to make a living. Her actual job was still bartending, at a bar near a shipyard. With so many orc employed there, her clientele was just as mixed as it was at Fogteeth parties. Despite being shorter that most humans, dwarves were surprisingly strong, so they found plenty of more ‘menial’ jobs as well. This bar wasn’t as flashy as the party, but that was fine. Not very many women came by, but that just meant fewer assholes for her to punch.
It was getting late, and she found herself smiling at the memory, the expression widening into a Cheshire grin at the other memory that followed. Plenty of her regulars were attractive orcs—men and women alike—but she had a thing for scars. She did her best not to be weird about it, but something about them just… Thinking about the few of Dorghu’s that she’d touched just made her wish she could have had him in a bed, where she could have laid him out and taken her time in mapping every inch of him.
The little bell over the door chimed, and she looked up, already grabbing a handful of menus. Then she paused, grin melting to something incredulous. It was Dorghu. He wasn’t alone, a few Fogteeth members engaged in conversation around him, but his eyes went straight to her, and a smirk tugged around his tusks. Instinct reared for a moment; a man from a party following her to work would usually have her calling the police in seconds. But she had given him her personal phone number, and the address of her day-job.
So she smiled and welcomed the newcomers, pulling several pints of dwarven ale after they ordered. Dorghu’s hand brushed hers as he took his drink, and she grinned at him. The summer heat meant that anything more than a tank top was stifling. The mark he’d left had bruised up spectacularly, two circular marks that were darker than the rest indicating where his tusks had broken through her soft human skin. She was suddenly much happier about being the one in charge of closing.
Dorghu had sent the rest of his people on their way. Their sense of smell would have told them all they might want to know about ‘why’. Human women that let orcs bite them weren’t terribly common, and the bartender had done nothing to hide the mark. Even if she’d showered several times since then, Dorghu’s scent had sunk into the woven fabric bracelets she wore. That subtle hint of their clan leader’s scent had been what kept some of the younger members from throwing a few comments her way.
The till was counted, most of the chairs put up, and nearly all of the lights off. She came over to clear Dorghu’s table, and wasn’t surprised when large hand curled around the back of her thigh, a thumb slipping under the edge of her shorts. Just like that, her heart jumped into her throat, excitement tightening her chest, and a flush crept up her cheeks. She saw his nostrils flare, taking her scent, smelling how much she wanted him.
Then he let go, sitting back in the booth and letting her clear and wipe down the table. She had to take the dishes into the kitchen and put them in the washer. When she came back out, Dorghu was at the bar, big arms folded along the polished wood. The moment he saw her, he was standing away, gaze meeting and holding hers as he came around behind the bar. His wide frame nearly filled the entire space, and another shiver rolled down her spine, turning to heat between her legs.
She didn’t give him time to speak or ask, though she was pretty sure that he would have, the same way he’d given her the option to leave the first time. And just like before, she had no plans on going anywhere. Stepping into his space, she flattened her hands against his stomach, her grin wolfish and hungry as she stared up at him. His nostrils flared, and she found herself wondering how to she smelled to him. Still watching his face, one of her hands dropped to curl over his belt. His shift in posture was immediate, leaning down over her, one arm moving her to crowd her up against the bar. His arms braced against the wood to either side of her, caging her in and making her heart race.
In response she reached up, pulling him down for a kiss. She knew orcs didn’t kiss each other much, since tusks got in the way. But Dorghu seemed to like her mouth against his, his tongue meeting hers before taking control of the kiss. He devoured her giggle as he lifted her to sit on the counter, stepping in to stand between her legs. Immediately, she curled them around his back, her hands kneading his shoulders, drawing him in. The tang of ale lingered in his mouth, some faint trace of cologne registering in the back of her mind.
“Didn’t get enough last time, huh?” she murmured.
“Smug little thing, aren’t you?” Dorghu rumbled, hands squeezing around her waist.
“Well… I didn’t hear you complaining last time. And this seems an awful lot like you coming back for seconds.” The idea that someone like him wanted someone like her was still a little mindboggling. She’d seen plenty of prettier women—orc, human, dwarf—throwing themselves at him at parties. But she was the one he’d sought out after a quick fuck in the back room. Someone like him would have had plenty of potential and enthusiastically willing partners. So she couldn’t help but be a little smug that Dorghu was there, hands lowering to squeeze around her thighs.
But he pulled back, wearing a grin of his own now. “If I’m just in your way, I can leave,” he rumbled.
“Like hell you are.”
Her feet hit the floor with a thump, her hands yanking at his thick belt. Part of her mind drifted to what the wide strip of leather would feel like as it snapped over her skin, but she pulled back. She didn’t bother with ogling him this time, pulling his cock out and sucking it instantly into her mouth, smirking at his quick intake of breath. The gentle salt of clean skin was pleasant on her tongue, the subtle musk of him filling her nose. Above her, Dorghu watched her draw her lips along the mottled skin of his cock, her eyes finding his face. If her mouth hadn’t been stretched wide, he was sure that she would have been smirking again.
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he started to work her along the shaft, watching her expression when he felt the head bump the back of his throat. She looked eager to go further, but he just started moving her again, and she let him have control. “All nice and well behaved now that you got what you want, huh?” He rocked his hips, pressing against the back of her throat. He felt her fight the grip he had in her hair, swallowing around him and trying to take him deeper. He let her have what she wanted, pushing past the resistance of her throat. Her eyes watered, but she hummed around him, tongue pressing him to the roof of her mouth as she made herself swallow.
The motion squeezed him, and Dorghu’s growl went straight to her cunt. She wiggled a hand into her shorts, dipping a finger into her growing slick before coming up to pluck at her clit. Dorghu saw, and chuckled, golden eyes lidded. “You enjoy sucking my cock that much, little thing?” It was impossible to smile, and her jaw was already aching, but she didn’t break eye contact as she swallowed again, a thrill going through her as his eyes fell closed and his head dropped back.
When he started moving her again, he was rougher, pushing into her throat with every other thrust, her watering eyes making her make-up start to smudge and run. But she didn’t try to grab him or pull away. He could see her willing her body to relax, her hand balling into a fist against the front of his thigh. It would be so easy to finish like this, spilling himself so deep in her throat that she had no choice but to swallow him down… But the smell of her arousal was nearly overpowering now, her hand working vigorously between her own legs.
She made a vague sound of annoyance as he pulled her off with a wet pop, a string of saliva clinging to her chin before he pulled her to her feet. “It’s only polite that I get a taste of that sweet cunt of yours, too,” he growled. Dorghu felt her shiver, a little whine coming up the back of her throat. Smirking, he pulled her to the end of the bar, sitting her on the edge and helping her out of her shorts and underwear. One large hand on her chest pushed her back until she was laying on the bar, and then he was spreading her legs wide, hands sliding up her thighs and pushing her knees towards her chest.
Another shiver passed through her as his tusks scraped along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. There was a sliver of fear now, her lust-hazed mind suddenly trying to think about logistics and positioning. But with her body nearly folded in half, his tusks slotted easily to either side of her cunt. The deep inhale and growl of an exhale against her sex made her shiver, and muscles jumped as Dorghu’s tucks tickled the neatly trimmed curls to either side of her drenched slit. The first draw of his tongue was slow and gentle, teasing her lips open.
Then he flattened his tongue against her, drawing along the whole of her sex in one long, slow lick. Her anxiety vanished in a blink, fear washed away with the relief of finally. The sound he made could only be described as a purr, one of his hands guiding her to hold one of her own legs where it was. A sharp stab of arousal brought out a strangled sound as two of his fingers pushed inside, tongue settling on her clit.
And as much as she had enjoyed having him in her mouth, she was not about to complain about a very eager, very skillful eating-out. And from the feel of things, he had every intention of fucking her again, too. His fingers curved and flexed inside her, spreading her open in a slow, delicious stretch. Some vague thought about workplace sanitation standards flitted through the back of her head, but quickly vanished. Her nails raked down the wood surface under her, toes curling in her boots.
Drinking in her smell, Dorghu didn’t rush, learning the shape of her sex, and paying close attention to anything that caused her breath to hitch, or pull a cry from her parted, slightly swollen lips. Watching her face, a surge of possessiveness rolled through him, fingers digging into her thighs. He replaced his tongue on her clit with is thumb, her eyes fluttering back open at the change. But almost instantly they were closing again, rolling back as the rougher rhythm hurtled her towards climax. She came around three of his fingers, her nails biting into her own thighs as she held them.
Panting, she looked down at him, the yellow of his eyes reduced by dilated pupils. Her outer labia felt raw and swollen from his tusks, but it was a pleasant ache. Grinning, she sat up and grabbed the front of his shirt, slamming her mouth over his. Her taste lingered along his lips and tongue, his tusks smearing it against her cheeks. She really liked the way his tusks looked, the way they felt pressed against her, but she didn’t know if saying that would be weird or insensitive. So she just pulled back with a nip to his bottom lip.
“Where do you want me?” she murmured, voice slightly rough.
The knowledge that the roughness came from her letting him use her mouth and throat before brought the possessiveness surging back, the urge to mark her again thrumming in his head. Dorghu flipped her roughly, a hand at the back of her neck pushing her cheek into the bar. The click of his buckle sent a lance of pleasure through her, excitement tightening in her chest. The height of the bar had her legs dangling in the air, but that seemed to be the perfect level for Dorghu.
It had been his turn to come prepared, and he took a moment to enjoy the view of her soaked, twitching cunt as he rolled the condom over himself. Then one hand anchored her hips, the other lining himself up as he leaned in. He was slower than the first time, sinking into her inch by inch, drawing her down. He watched her hands scrabble for a grip on the edges of the bar, her rapid breathing fogging the highly polished wood.
As he bottomed out, Dorghu leaned over her, pressing down with his weight. It didn’t unsettle or frighten her, and she wriggled under him, trying to move her hips. He raked his teeth over the back of her shoulder, chuckling when she shivered and went still. “You like wearing my marks?” he rumbled, grinding his hips against her. He dug one tusk in against the meat of her shoulder, feeling her buck and squirm, but never trying to draw away from the pain. “Answer,” he demanded, going still.
God, he was still such an ass! She tried fruitlessly to squirm, but that just got her pressed harder into the solid construction of the bar. The hard length of him twitched inside her, but his hips remained still. She couldn’t move. It should be terrifying, trapped under the weight of such a large, dangerous orc. It should, but it wasn’t. So she whimpered and nodded.
“Yes,” she rasped. “Being sore the next day gives… It gives me something to think about…” She trailed off into a groan as he drew back slowly.
“So you want me to mark you up, little thing?” he purred, working back into her with short, shallow thrust. “Make sure every orc that sees you knows you’re spoken for?” He lifted a hand and prodded the mark he’d left last time. “You bruise so easy, I’d hardly have to try.”
The idea of any of her orc customers having seen the mark and known… A shudder rocked through her, and she nodded rapidly, not quite able to form words. The smug laugh drew away from her ear as Dorghu straightened, both hands anchoring on her hips. The bruises he had left there hadn’t been as intense, and had already faded and yellowed. This time, he dug his fingertips in hard as he started to thrust in earnest. The hold would have been a solid one on an orc woman, but on the tiny human, it took every last bit of her control. She could only move as he wanted her too, and from the twitches of her cunt and the mounting cries, she was enjoying it immensely.
Her knuckles were white where she gripped the bar, the edge of it digging into the front of her thighs. She was being used liked a damn doll, her legs hanging uselessly. It really shouldn’t be pushing all of her buttons at once but it was. Then his hand was coming around her neck, not squeezing but lifting her up, making her arch her back. The angle made it impossible not to put some of her weight on her neck, but it wasn’t enough to prevent her from speaking or breathing.
Dorghu could feel her increasingly desperate cries vibrating against his hand. Her body shifted against him, hands braced on the bar as she pushed back. The sight of her pale neck so close was too much, and he lunged in, pressing her into him as he bit down. Her cry of surprise and pain was high and sharp, her cunt clenching around him. He tasted her blood on his tongue, so metallic and human. It was difficult not to get lost in that, in the taste of her life and the rawness of her broken skin, her body so soft and small and willing against him.
Then her hand came up, short nails raking along the back of his scalp, catching and digging in. He snarled, but the spike in pain cleared his head. When he pulled out, she nearly snarled at him, and she was scowling when he turned her over. Laughing, he shoved her shirt and bra up, nearly bending in half to catch a nipple between his teeth, the blood on his lips smearing over her pale skin. She cried out sharply above him as he pressed in again, grinding her soft body down against him.
Her hands anchored at the back of his neck, exhaustion sinking into her limbs. A rough hand between her legs jerked her eyes back open, the touch bordering on painful. But she still felt her body coiling tight, ready for another release. “FUCK! Dammit… Dorghu, I can’t…” She trailed off into a whine as her body clenched again, heat spiraling out into her limbs.
“You can,” Dorghu growled. “You’re going to come again with that tight little cunt of yours stuffed full of my cock.” His hand didn’t stop, feeling her walls flutter around him. She squirmed, eyes screwed shut and face flushed. When she came, she made a sound as if she had been struck, the sound wrenched from her. The second he felt her clamp down, he lost all sense of restraint or rhythm.
He bit the front of her other shoulder, hips hammering into hers until he finally came, a shudder arching him forward and making him dig is fingers into her thighs. Her nails bit into the back of his neck, and she clung to him, whimpering as they both drifted down from the high. It was easier just to lift her up onto the bar as he stepped back, briefly unsteady on his feet. Looking at her, Dorghu couldn’t help but think of how good she’d look with his cum oozing out of her as she lay there gasping, body still twitching with aftershocks.
She was aware of Dorghu moving in the general vicinity of her feet, probably throwing away the condom and cleaning himself up. As the high faded, she was aware of the hot throb of pain in her shoulders. The thought that she was bleeding on a surface that was used to serve food and drink was what finally got her to sit up, making a face and rolling her shoulder. Glancing behind her, she saw the smear of something wet on the dark wood, and counted herself lucky that her tank-top and bra were black.
When Dorghu came back her with a clean damp towel, she was certain that she had never seen a more smug looking orc. He peeled her shirt and bra completely away, leaving her naked in her place of business and very glad that she had turned off the cameras. She winced and swore as he cleaned the back of her shoulder, and she was now certain that it had been vodka that he’d wet the towel with. Well, at least it wouldn’t get infected.
He handed her a towel and the open bottle of vodka for the other bite, confirming her suspicions. While cleaning the other, more superficial mark, she felt his hand drop and linger on where her burn scars crept up her back. She stilled as he traced along the edges, getting a proper look for the first time. They had been a part of her for a long time, so it didn’t bother her that he wanted to look.
“Apartment fire,” she finally said. She had no idea if he actually wanted to know or not, but she continued anyway. “Cheap housing and no smoke detectors. I was ten.” She wouldn’t go into the numerous months in the hospital, and all the skin grafts and surgeries. Or the fact that she had gone through it alone, the only member of her family to survive.
After taping down a square of gauze from the bar’s first aid kit, Dorghu came back around, returning her shirt and bra. He felt her eyes on his facial scars. “Car accident,” he rumbled, voice as close to soft as it would ever get. “Drunk driver.” He hadn’t been the only one in the car, but not all the other occupants had been pulled out alive.
There was a faint twitch of an expression on her face before she schooled her features. Her hand itched to reach out and touch, but it somehow felt so much more intimate to run her fingers over the twisting marks of his face, the blue gone from the area where skin had been torn and stitched back together, scaring over pale and pink. Instead, she slipped down from the bar, pulling on her shorts and underwear.
But he didn’t let her push past him, to either clean her blood from the bar or to open the door and order him out. Instead, he caught her by her upper arm, making her look up. The dim light made his scars stand out, his face looking gnarled and uneven. Would there be a time where she got to trace those marks? Fuck. Her weird fascination was annoying. Probably all those years spent staring at her own scars, willing herself to love her body anyways.
The moment passed, and Dorghu let his hand drop away. He didn’t even talk to Mikey about that shit, and the kid had been there, albeit in a baby’s car-seat. Maybe it was the fact that she knew something about scars, and the ghosts he’d seen in her eyes when she told him. Maybe he’d gravitated towards her because she might… understand, or something.
And just like Dorghu knew ghosts when he saw them, she knew the look of disquieting thoughts. It wasn’t her place to offer comfort, to be close. So instead she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. It was wet and filthy, her blunt human teeth nipping at his lips until he grabbed a fistful of her hair and returned the kiss hungrily. This was better. Easier. And damn if he didn’t like the way she tasted.