Page 5 of The Princess and the Orc (Cursed Kingdoms)

Chapter Five

A malia's hands trembled as she unpinned her hair, letting the dark auburn waves cascade down her back. The events of the day felt like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. Her armed escort had returned before her, raising an alarm, but she quickly quelled the concerns, saying that she had evaded the attackers and returned by a different route, carefully omitting any mention of the orc or their bargain. There was no need to worry anyone about a promise that would never be fulfilled.

Then Drogath had burst on the scene, revealing the true events of the day. She had been convinced that her father would throw him in the dungeon for daring to touch his daughter, or presume to claim Amalia’s hand in marriage. Never mind that she had made the foolish bargain in the first place. Who could hold her to such a thing when she had feared her life was in danger? The orc showed no honor by forcing her into this deal.

But her father shocked her by agreeing with the orc, inviting him to dinner and upholding the foul arrangement. He took her to task for trying to get out of it and insisted she keep her word, going so far as to promise a quick wedding, even as the orc said they were already mated in the eyes of his people.

Her life was ruined! Just that morning, she had been trying to figure out how to convince her father to accept Prince Frederich’s betrothal, and tonight, she was pledged to an orc, their kingdom’s enemy. What had happened? How could her life have changed so dramatically?

Her maid had helped her undress, and she was seated in front of her vanity in a plush emerald green robe, the color reminding her of Drogath. She dismissed the maid, needing quiet to think and settle her nerves. Amalia had just picked up her silver-backed brush when the bedroom doors burst open. She whirled, clutching the brush like a weapon, only to freeze at the sight of Drogath filling her doorway. Candlelight from the hallway silvered his green skin and glinted off his tusks, making him appear even more otherworldly than before. Guards flanked him on either side but made no move to arrest him or remove him from her quarters.

“Get out!” she hissed, glancing frantically at her chamber door. “You cannot be here.”

“Why not? I’m your mate. Where else would I sleep but by your side?” He asked, closing the door behind him. “I have every right to be here, my little princess.”

She wrapped the edges of the robe closer around her, his black eyes heating as they tracked her hands.

That word sent a shiver down her spine. “I am not your mate, and I am not your little princess. That bargain was made under duress.”

His dark eyebrow arched. “Duress, aye. You were in danger and I saved you from it, under significant threat to my own life.”

She scoffed. “You had no problem handling those soldiers. In fact, you probably organized the whole thing!”

“No, princess. I don’t deceive others. I keep my word and speak my truth plainly. Something you seem to have trouble with, since I believe you planned to break the oath as soon as you made it.” He advanced on her slowly, step by step until he towered above her. “Did you think I wouldn't know? That I couldn't smell the deception on you even as you agreed to my terms?”

Amalia backed away until her legs hit the edge of her bed. “That's not true. I only wanted time to prepare my father for your arrival. To explain the situation.”

“I do not allow my mate to lie to me.” The word rumbled from his chest. “You ran from me. Tried to bar me from following. These are not the actions of a mate preparing her family, but of one trying to escape her obligations.”

“Obligations?” Her voice rose despite her effort to keep quiet. “I always fulfill my duty to my people. I have done everything my father has asked, as I prepare to follow him leading the kingdom. But this is not how things are done. You can't just declare that I am your mate.”

“First off, I didn’t declare you my mate. You did. Second, you are no longer bound only by the laws of your people.” He leaned closer. “When you accepted my bargain, you became subject to orc law. And by our laws, you are my mate. My responsibility.” His dark eyes gleamed. “Including the responsibility to punish you when you misbehave.”

Horror and something far more dangerous curled in her belly. “Punish? You mean to beat me?”

His laugh was dark, honeyed, rich and dangerous. “Beat you? No, little princess. I'm going to spank you.” He reached for her, massive hands surprisingly gentle as they caught her wrists, drawing her close. “And I think you might even enjoy it.”

“That's barbaric!” Amalia protested even as her body betrayed her, heat flooding her core at his words. She tried to twist away, but he simply gathered both her wrists in one hand, using his other to tip her chin up.

“Your pulse is racing,” he observed, thumb stroking over her throat. “Your pupils are dilated. You're aroused by the idea, aren't you? My proper little princess, excited by the thought of being turned over my knee and spanked like a naughty child.”

“I am not!” The words emerged breathy, unconvincing even to her own ears.

“More lies.” He pulled her closer until she had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. “Tell me, mate, do you know what happens to liars in orc culture?”

She shook her head mutely, mesmerized by the heat in his gaze.

“They get extra strokes. But I’ll go easy on you for your first time.” His hand slid from her chin down her back, coming to rest possessively on her bottom. “One for running away. One for barring my entry. And now two more for lying about your motivations. That's four spanks you've earned yourself, princess. Shall we make it five?”

Amalia's breath came in quick gasps. She should scream for the guards. Should fight, should protest this barbaric treatment. Instead, she found herself swaying toward him, her body yearning for his touch even as her mind rebelled.

“Please,” she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was begging him to stop or continue.

“Please what?” His hand squeezed gently, making her gasp. “Please punish you? Please claim you properly, as I should have done in the forest?” He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. “Please make you admit how much you want this?”

“I don't know,” she almost wailed, her body yearning for something she didn’t understand.

“Five it is, then.” In one smooth motion, he sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her between his thighs. “Remember, princess, you earned every one of these. And if you scream,” his hand stroked over her robe. “Well, then everyone will know exactly what's happening in here, won't they?”

* * *

A malia eyed him carefully, as if trying to figure out how to handle the situation. He could almost hear her thoughts, and he could certainly smell her arousal, so she wasn’t terrified. But the robe had to go.

She bent over, and he stopped her. “First rule of punishment, you must be naked. However, since this is your first time, I’ll settle for you removing your robe.”

Her eyes widened even as her arousal scent spiked. She clutched the edges of the robe together in a show of modesty. “Absolutely not. You can’t see me naked.”

“Why not? I’m your mate, am I not? Make it quick or you will be naked for this and I will add to the count.”

She hesitated for a moment, then carefully shrugged out of the robe. Before she could drop it to the floor, he gestured to the bed. With a mulish set to her jaw, she laid the robe across the foot of the bed and turned back to him, leaving her clad in a silk nightgown barely skimming her curvy body, revealing the lush curves he was dying to explore as her mate.

He patted his thigh, and she narrowed her eyes, but she slowly settled over Drogath’s lap, her lush ass in the air. He savored the weight of Amalia across his lap; her scent a heady mixture of fear, arousal, and anticipation. The silk of her nightgown was whisper-thin beneath his palm as he caressed her bottom, letting her anticipation build. Her breath came in quick pants, and he could feel the tension in her slender body. He was going to enjoy his mate.

“Count them,” he commanded, then brought his hand down in a measured strike.

She gasped but managed a breathy “One.”

He alternated cheeks, careful to moderate his strength. He had no wish to truly hurt her. This was about claiming, about teaching her that actions had consequences. Each strike drew a desperate little sound from her throat, followed by the count in an increasingly strained voice.

By the fifth strike, she was squirming in his lap, her arousal evident in both her scent and the way she pressed her thighs together. He smoothed his hand over her warmed flesh, enjoying how she arched into his touch despite herself.

“Good girl,” he rumbled, and she shivered at the praise. “Now, shall we see how wet this punishment made you?”

She whimpered, wriggling against his rock hard cock, but didn’t say anything. He suspected she didn't know exactly what she was silently begging for. That was okay. He could guide her. Normally he would have done this with her bent over, but he suspected she was untouched and he wanted to see her expression as he brought her to climax the first time.

He gathered her up, turning her to straddle his lap. Her face was flushed, pupils blown wide with desire as she looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. When he captured her mouth in a searing kiss, she melted against him immediately, arms wrapping around his neck.

His hand slid between them, finding her center through the thin silk. She was soaked, her body more honest than her words had been. When he stroked her core, his fingers splitting her soaking wet folds before finding her soft nub at the top, she jerked against his hold and broke the kiss with a desperate cry.

“Quiet,” he reminded her, continuing his careful exploration. “Unless you want the guards to overhear?”

She buried her face against his neck, muffling her sounds as he worked her higher, stroking her with his thumb, while his finger delved deeper into her tight channel. She was a virgin. Not that he expected anything else, but it would make consummating their mating more difficult. She clearly had an exhibitionist streak in her, considering how she reacted whenever he brought up someone overhearing. That would be a good thing for an orc mate. Orc males loved to show off their mates, though they rarely shared them.

Her hips rocked against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. He gave her what she needed, drinking in her quiet gasps and whimpers, using his fingers to stretch her, getting her ready for his much larger cock, while his thumb worked her nub relentlessly.

When she finally shattered, she bit his shoulder to stay silent, her body trembling in his arms. He held her through it, murmuring praise in his native tongue as she came down from her high.

“Why…” she managed finally, her voice shaky. “Why didn't you…”

“Take you fully?” He smiled against her hair as he stroked her back with one hand, his other still buried inside of her. “That pleasure will wait until you’ve been prepared.” He decided not to mention the claiming before the clan. She wasn’t quite ready for that knowledge, though he suspected she’d enjoy it. He shifted her in his arms, laying them both down on her bed. “For now, sleep. You'll need your strength for the next few days.”

She made a soft sound of protest but was already drifting off, curled trustingly against his chest. Drogath pulled her closer, breathing in their mingled scents. His little mate might fight their bond, might rage against the changes coming to her life, but her body knew the truth of where she belonged.

He would let her sleep for now. Tomorrow they might battle again, but tonight she purred like a kitten, wrapped safely in his arms where she belonged.