Page 25

ALICE

I marvel at Fenrother’s cock, or pizzle, as he calls it.

His description is accurate.

The thing is hard, incredibly hard, and dear lord, it is enormous.

Thick and long, if it fits at all, he won’t be able to get it inside me.

But that’s not what I’m concentrating on.

It’s the fact that, as I run my finger down it, scales rise and fall like feathers, and the tip, when I reach the broad head, grasps at my digit like a sucker.

Sometimes I pick things up with it .

Fenrother’s words come back to me, only I suspect the reason for his cock to have such an odd function is not what he has been using it for.

A slight frisson runs over my body at what it could be used for.

Especially as he’s proved he has a tongue which can split into two and do things to my pussy which are probably illegal…

somewhere.

The warm water is helping with the cramps, easing the pain in my back and stomach.

Fenrother is silent save for his breathing as I slowly explore his cock, the thing straining under my touch.

“,” he says quietly.

“Yes, Fenrother?”

“My pizzle is going to produce another emission if you continue.”

My eyes fly to his face.

His jaw is set tight and the muscles in his upper body are straining.

“If you gave me an orgasm, I should give you one,” I respond.

“Orgasm?”

“An emission.”

“I emitted in my pants when you made some noises before,” Fenrother says as if it’s an everyday occurrence.

“You gave me my orgasm then.”

I don’t want to withdraw my hand, partly because I want to see what happens—call it scientific curiosity—but partly because I like having control of this huge monster, or part monster, under the water.

So, I smooth down the rippling scales, imagining how they would feel inside me, and Fenrother’s hips flip up at me, his cock pulsing alarmingly, swelling in my hand as he groans under his breath.

The tip stretches out, and a great cloud of creamy cum streams from it into the water.

It is a lot .

Fenrother shudders under me.

Having experienced the third orgasm of his life, I’m pretty sure he’s probably done.

But I would be wrong.

Instead strong arms lift me up, and I’m carried out of the bath.

A towel appears from somewhere and he wraps it around me.

“I’m going to make a mess,” I say, feeling completely weary.

“My period doesn’t stop because I’ve been in the bath.”

“I will clean you up,” Fenrother says emphatically.

Out of the water, the pain is creeping back, not as bad as before, but not great.

All I want to do is curl up in bed and try to sleep.

As if responding to my wishes, Fenrother ushers me through to the bedroom.

The wardrobe door is open, and he stops dead with a low growl, pushing me behind him as he stalks toward the open doors.

He reaches slowly into the imposing wooden wardrobe and then turns back to me with a puzzled look on his face and something in his hands.

Something which looks suspiciously like period underwear.

I send my thanks to Meg of Maldon who has, simply, thought of everything.

I whip the knickers from Fenrother’s outstretched hand.

They’re soft and clearly absorbent as I pull them on.

It’s then I remember the bed.

I have to have made a mess, and as my eyes travel to the sheets, I see the whole thing has been made.

“Duegar.” Fenrother shrugs, looking at the made bed.

“They’re good to you,” I say, lifting the bedclothes and crawling into the cool interior as the pain in my middle back ramps up again.

“I don’t ask them for anything. I hunt and I protect,” Fenrother says.

“I am glad of their assistance.”

The way he says it, almost fondly, causes my heart to do a flip.

He grew up here with an invisible force caring for him.

At some point, he became useful, but there must have been a time when they were almost his silent parents.

What a way to come into the Yeavering.

I wrap my arms around myself and curl up in the bed.

If I sleep, then potentially the worst of it will be over when I wake.