Page 12 of The Cauldronball Run (Outlaw Country #2)

He lifted her effortlessly, her gasp swallowed by his mouth as he set her on the narrow counter.

Supplies rattled in their bins, but he didn't care.

The sight of her perched there, thighs falling open for him, undid him completely.

He pulled her pants and panties off, baring her long legs that trembled under his touch.

"Spread for me," he ordered, voice wrecked. "Let me see what's mine."

Farrah obeyed, slow and deliberate, her gaze locked on his. The moment her thighs parted, her scent hit him—rich, sweet arousal that only a supernatural could produce. His enhanced senses went haywire. He could smell her need, taste it on the air, and his cock throbbed painfully against his pants.

"Fuck," he groaned, dropping to his knees. "I can smell how wet you are from here. How much you’ve been wanting this."

Her breath caught. "J.J.—"

He hooked his massive hands under her thighs, spreading her obscenely wide. His hands were so large they wrapped completely around her legs, holding her open for his hungry gaze.

"Look at you," he growled, letting his tusks graze her inner thigh. "So small, so delicate. I could break you with one hand, but instead I'm going to worship every inch of you."

When his mouth finally found her center, they both groaned. She was soaking, her arousal coating his tongue as he licked a long stripe from entrance to clit. Her taste was intoxicating.

He licked her slowly at first, savoring the way her slickness coated his tongue. Her thighs tensed but he held her wide open for his hungry mouth. He circled her clit, teased, then sucked hard enough to make her buck against him.

“J.J.,” she gasped, tugging his hair. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He never would. Not when she writhed like this, not when her moans echoed off the metal walls, not when every sound she made stitched itself into his soul.

He devoured her, tongue thrusting into her, nose pressing against her soft curls as he drank her down.

When his mouth finally found her center, he groaned like a starving man finally fed.

Farrah cried out. “Oh, gods—”

"You taste like magic," he rumbled against her, the vibration making her cry out. "Like you were made for me."

He devoured her with an intensity that bordered on feral.

His tusks pressed against her sensitive skin, adding an edge of danger that made her writhe.

He used them deliberately, letting the smooth bone drag along her folds while his tongue worked her clit.

The combination had her screaming within minutes.

"J.J.," she gasped, tugging his hair hard enough to hurt. "Your mouth—your tusks—fuck, I'm going to—"

He sucked her clit hard, grazing it with just the tip of one tusk, and she shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her violently, her thighs clamping around his head as she rode his face through wave after wave. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, drinking down her release like a man dying of thirst.

When he finally pulled back, his face was soaked, tusks gleaming with her arousal. His green skin had darkened with lust, and when he stood, she could see his cock straining against his pants, a wet spot already forming.

"You're leaking," she observed, voice rough from screaming.

"Orc thing," he growled, already working at his belt. "We produce more than humans."

When his pants finally hit the floor, Farrah's eyes went wide. His cock was long, thick, with a pronounced ridge along the underside that she'd never seen on a human. The head was already leaking steadily, precum beading and dripping.

"Oh fuck," she breathed. "You're not just big, you're—"

"Different," he finished, wrapping one massive hand around himself. His fingers barely met around the girth.

She watched, mesmerized, as he stroked himself once. More precum leaked out.

"Will it fit?" she asked, but her tone was eager, not afraid.

"I'll make it fit," he promised, lifting her again. "Gonna stretch that tight little pussy until you're shaped for me. Only me."

He kissed her again, desperate to taste her sweetness and his own hunger mingled. She whimpered against his mouth, clutching his shoulders, and when she ground her hips forward again, he lost the last of his restraint.

He set her on the stretcher, following her down. The size difference was stark. He covered her completely, had to be careful not to crush her. When he positioned himself at her entrance, the broad head of his cock looked impossibly large against her.

"Gonna go slow," he said, though his control was fraying. "Let you adjust to me."

He pushed forward, and they both groaned. Just the head stretched her wider than she'd ever been, her body struggled to accommodate his alien girth. The precum helped, so much of it that it dripped down her thighs, but it was still almost too much.

"Fuck," she gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. "You're so thick. I can feel every ridge, every vein."

"Only the head, baby," he gritted out. "Still got nine more inches to go."

He worked himself in slowly, letting her feel and settle for him. By the time he was halfway in, she was sobbing with pleasure, her pussy clenching rhythmically around him.

"Can't," she gasped. "Too much, too big—"

"You can," he growled, thumb finding her clit. "You were made for this. Made to take my cock. Every thick inch."

He rubbed her clit in slow circles as he pushed deeper, and her body opened for him. When he finally bottomed out, they both went still, overwhelmed by the connection. She was stretched to her limit. His ridges pressed against her walls. The massive head of his cock kissed her cervix.

"Move," she begged. "Please, I need—"

He pulled out slowly, letting her feel every ridge drag against her sensitive walls, then pushed back in faster. The stretcher creaked ominously as he set a rhythm, each thrust making wet sloshing sounds from their shared arousal.

"Gonna fill you up," he growled, hips snapping forward. "Pump you so full of my cum you'll be dripping for days. Everyone will smell me on you, in you."

“You’re so—” Farrah’s words broke into a moan as she rolled her hips, trying to take him deeper. Her tight walls fluttered around his cock, adjusting to his size. “I can feel you everywhere—stretching me, splitting me open, filling me until I don’t know where I end and you begin.”

That was exactly the problem. J.J. could feel her everywhere too—tight and perfect and so completely his that a partial mating bond between them flared like a live wire. She cried out, nails biting into his shoulders, and he froze, every muscle straining as her body stretched to accommodate him.

“Too much?” he rasped, nearly shaking.

She met his eyes, fierce and unbroken. “Perfect. Don’t you dare stop.”

He pushed deeper, inch by devastating inch, until he was buried to the hilt again inside her. Her gasp turned to a moan, her head falling back as her body clenched around him, greedy and hot and impossibly tight.

When her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as she shattered in his arms, J.J. lost any control he had left. He fucked her with abandon, the stretcher protesting under their combined weight. His massive balls slapped against her with each thrust, heavy with cum he needed to pump into her.

“Mine,’ he growled, hips snapping forward with a force that made her cry out, the word torn from somewhere primal and possessive. ‘Say it. Say you’re mine while I’m inside you.”

"All yours, take me, mark me. Make me yours." Farrah gasped, and the bond snapped tighter between them.

When she came again, her pussy clamped down so hard he saw stars. The rhythmic squeezing of her walls, combined with the bond flaring between them, pushed him over the edge.

"Fuck, gonna cum," he roared. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy—"

His orgasm was violent, cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her. There was so much cum it immediately started leaking out around his cock, painting her thighs white. He kept thrusting through it, each movement pushing more of his seed deep inside her.

"Still cumming," he groaned against her throat. "Fuck, I can't stop."

The taste of her skin, the sound of her pleasure, the way she clenched around him all combined into an overwhelming surge of claiming need. When he finally pulled out, a flood of cum followed, dripping onto the stretcher in thick streams.

The bond between them flared so bright he could practically see it, connecting them in ways that went far deeper than physical.

But even as the pleasure crashed over him, part of J.J.

held back. The bond was strong, but it wasn't complete.

He couldn't quite let himself take that final step, claim her completely, make it permanent.

Not when he had nothing to offer her but debt and uncertainty.

Part of him still convinced he wasn't worthy of this, of her.

But the partial bond was there, pounding between them like a beating heart.

Afterward, they lay tangled together on the ambulance's narrow stretcher, Farrah's head on J.J.'s chest, his arm wrapped around her so completely she disappeared against his side.

"We should go," J.J. said, but made no move to get up.

"Mm-hmm," Farrah agreed, also not moving.

"Sheriff's probably getting closer."

"Probably." Farrah tilted her head to look at him. "What was that? What happened between us? It was more than sex. I felt something magical snap into place while you were inside of me."

"It’s a mating bond. A partial one, anyway."

"What’s that?"

"It’s an orcish thing. When we find someone we want to keep, really keep, there's a connection that forms. Supernatural. It makes us protective, possessive, really bad at letting go."

"And you have that with me?"

"The beginning of it." J.J. stroked her hair. "It’s not complete, though."

"Why not?"

Because I'm fifty thousand gold in debt and I work three jobs just to keep my head above water , J.J. thought. Because you deserve someone who can take care of you properly.

"Just not ready yet," he said instead. “It didn’t seem fair to you when we’ve just met and had never talked about it.”

"What happens if the mating bond is completed?"

"We're bonded for life."

"That's a big commitment."

"Yeah. It is."

"Good thing I like you, then."

"Just like?"

"Well, I'm not bonded to you yet. Ask me again when we get back to New York."

"Even partial bonds create dependency. The more time we spend together, the harder separation becomes. It's why most orcs either complete the bond immediately or avoid forming one at all."

“That’s good to know.” She rubbed his arm. “It’s a lot to take in for me too. I thought I was going to make some extra spending money, not find a life mate.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Not really.” J.J. sighed and reached for his shirt. "We should get going if we want a chance to win this race."

“Eyes on the prize.”

She was the prize.

As they climbed back into the front seat and pulled onto the highway, J.J. felt the partial bond pulsing between them, like it had always been there. Even though the bond wasn’t complete, Farrah was his to protect now, and he was hers to keep.

Even if he wasn't sure he deserved it yet.

The CB buzzed with a notification on their private channel. "All teams, this is Secret Agent. Sheriff Lawman is coordinating roadblocks on I-70. Suggest alternate routes immediately."

"Copy that," J.J. said into the radio. "See you all at checkpoint three."

He looked over at Farrah, who was finding a new route on her phone’s GPS. Her hair was still messed up and her shirt was buttoned wrong.

"Ready for this?" he asked.

"Ready," she said. "Let's go win a race."