Lost to the Orcs (Oyeon Orcs)

Chapter Fifteen Burgrol

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: BURGROL

“Burgrol this is my mate,” Jaedason introduces me. I smile and wave at the cook I’d met the other day when I’d taught everyone how to make grilled cheese. “She wishes t’ learn moar about how we cook. U’snar an’ Ay are—

Burgrol waves Jaedason’s words away with his massive hand. He is a large Orc. He’s got wide shoulders and a big barreling chest. He doesn’t wear a shirt and although he doesn’t have abs like my men do, he looks like he could bench ten of me. He’s got short black hair pulled into a bun at the back of his head and the closest to hazel eyes I’ve seen in these mountains. His skin is a grey mottled with blue and one of his ears looks like someone bit the tip off of it.

When I first met him in the kitchens, I thought he was going to be an asshole. He was scowling at something or just lost in thought. He looked scary. But then, he’d noticed my hovering, and smiled. If I wasn’t mated I’d have fallen for the big burly male in heartbeat. He then had let me into his kitchens without a single word of protest.

“Worry no’ chief. She learns good.” He smiles widely, flashing the largest tusks I’ve seen. If they think of tusks like mating rituals or virility, I’m pretty sure this Orc gets quite a bit of requests. “Go.” He shoos his chief with more waves of his hands and turns away to his stoves.

Jaedason looks at me, hesitating like he wants to say or do something but eventually shakes his head before waving goodbye.

Burgrol shakes his head also.

“What is it?” I ask the Orc.

“Chief is smitten.” I blink. With how he talks, I wasn’t expecting a large vocabulary. Smitten I feel would be on the bigger vocabulary level. He laughs. “I ken many things. Family comes from far north. Always cold there.” He pulls out a couple of loaves of bread from his stove. It reminds me of those old timey stoves in brick walls. Or like old school pizza ovens you can only find in a mom-and-pop shop. “But accepted. Humans donnae attack oft. If we fight, we die. No’ from fight. From weather. I am,” He pauses when putting more dough into the oven. These actually look more like the buns I was describing to him last time. He counts on a hand. “Twice more human.”

“Two thirds human?”

He smiles at me over his shoulder. “Yes. Cannae tell though.” I shake my head and he laughs. It’s deep and warm like the fire.

“Why’d you move so far south?” From my talks with my gentlemanly mates, I found that this mountain is like smack dab in the middle of the continent because it is easier for all of the tribes to come here if they so wished to during the harsh winter. Because the entire continent practically freezes over during the winter. If a tribe is not prepared, they will perish. Thus, if they are not prepared, they gather what they can and come to the mountain where there is plenty. But, what Burgrol is speaking of is a different continent or island so to speak. It is only connected to the main continent during the winter when the waters freeze, connecting the lands. Pilgrimages occur back and forth throughout winter but it is mostly for game or the rarer herbs that grow only in that northern island. An island where it is always winter. Or at least, the seasons there are so extremely short that it seems like only winter.

He hands me an apron that I have to knot the strap around my neck quite a bit lower because it’s made for these six foot plus Orcs before wrapping the straps around my waist several times and then tying it in the back. I know he isn’t ignoring me. He’ll get to me in time. It might seem as if he is ignoring me or that he is so focused on his task that he isn’t paying attention but he is thinking. He takes out a mixing bowl, a spatula and a list. “Today you make this.” Not a list. A recipe. “By yourself.” Ah.

“If I don’t know what something is, can I ask you?” He nods. Relief fills me.

“Always ask. Never flounder.” I nod my thanks. And he begins.

He was born to a human father and a female half Orc who looks more human than Orc, minus her tusks, strange eyes and pointed ears. Many call her an elf cousin. But she proudly proclaims herself an Orc because she is in every which way that it matters. She is brilliant, brave and loved so fiercely. She is strong. Built like a brick house and as tall as a tree. Which I assume means as tall as him because he’s probably as tall as a tree. His father on the other hand comes up to her stomach and he loves her to pieces. She is his every breath and he provides everything she could ever want. They have six children. Burgrol is their third. All survived, despite the extreme weather they were raised in. He has two sisters and three brothers who he wouldn’t trade for the world.

His parents are, from their letters, still alive and well. His youngest sister is being courted by a local boy with “green as the hill” eyes. He did use air quotes for that tidbit. I’m betting his sister wrote that in her letter as he gets letters not just from his parents but every one of his siblings.

When asked if he gets along with all of them, he scoffed. “’Course not. But we love. We love deep.”

He tells me of his father’s love for baking them sweets with the nectar of bees, what I believe is bees from his description, all throughout his childhood and how his mother would jokingly say that if they didn’t wash behind their ears, they’d not get a single morsel. It didn’t matter because she would always let them have some after their supper. His older brother who is actually the one who bit off a piece of his ear, whined once that it wasn’t fair his brother only had to wash behind one ear for it to matter. Which got him a swat on the behind, since it was his fault his brother only had an ear and three fourths.

That was the beginning of his love for baking and cooking. If his dad didn’t bake sweets the beginning of the week, he traded for it. But it always was warm in their home and it always smelled like the sweetness of life to him. Warmth, happiness. They came hand in hand .

It is why he cooks in the mountain instead of hunting or skinning or any of the other things that the Orcs do in this mountain.

“None of that explains why you left.” I murmur finishing rolling my dough.

“Rugar an’ Aargon mated a male heated one. Aden travels. Bertsa is being courted an’ Ruby helps Mother an’ Father. I am big an’ no’ much room for a big Orc like me. Even two parts more human. I traveled too an’ found Jaeda. Very nice, sweet Orc. She reminded me o’ Mother. Offered me a stove, big enough. Home far from Home.”

I crimp the dough around the dish using my thumbs. Slicing into the top to air it out while it cooks. I pause to wipe the sweat from my brow. “I’m kind of surprised. Every story I hear from Orcs lately seems to be tragic. I like the change.”

“Because north is dangerous. We accept t’ survive. Here?” He shakes his head as he takes my dish and places it in the oven. “They kill different. Even for benefits. Jewels. Jewelry. Herbs. Many humans understand little of ‘he land. They are still young an’ yet act younger still. Orcs live amongst it. Roil in storms. The waves. Humans fear our power. They fear our ways. Mating. They pawn an’ ruin their own precious heat children. For land. Riches. Or they’re robbed of them. The strong destroy ‘he weak.”

I sit on a stool he pulled out for me as I wipe my hands clean. He’s not wrong. Humans are wicked and cruel in general. They are more likely to stab you in the back for their own benefit. I mean, not all of us are like that. But the negative usually outweighs the good in these things. Because it’s usually the powerful that are the negative and their influence alone is often detrimental to change.

“I’m sorry.”

“No’ them.” He shakes his head in reassurance.

“Burgrol!” Comes in a dainty human woman wearing a long sleeve tunic and pants. She has straight black hair, baby blue slanted eyes, angular features, and plump curves in all the right places. I almost squirm in insecurity. She has the literal hourglass perfection figure and I am extremely jealous of that. If I were a shape, it’d be a mashed potato. “Oh,” She pauses in front of the counter. “Hello.” She smiles politely at me. “I came to complain about my mate.” Her smile turns apologetic.

“What has Garret done today?” I watch him pull out a jar and start the process of pickling a vegetable that looks like a turnip and carrots had a baby.

“He’s talking about how he wishes his brother were alive. Saying something about how it would be really nice to have a relationship like U’snar has with his own.” She shudders. “I can’t believe he’d suggest that.”

“Is that bad?” Burgrol asks. He hands me a couple of tubular vegetables and mimics chopping as her expression sours.

“Of course it is. Humans would never do that. What are they going to call their child? Son? Both of them?” She gags. “And what about the child? Do they call them both dad? Don’t even get me started on the fact that the woman is okay with fucking both of them. I can understand cousins maybe. Friends even! But his brother ??”

“Fuck!” I slice my finger. Burgrol clucks his tongue but gives me a cloth to wrap my thumb in. He rids the table of the bloody vegetable and takes the others to his side.

“Jaedason will be upset.” I wince, the woman’s horrified face jerks as if she were slapped. Her wide eyes stare at me.

“Oh my god. I didn’t—I’m so sorry.” She starts to shake. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Please don’t kick us out during the winter.”

“What?” I frown, displeased with my clumsiness.

“Sumira hated anyone who crossed her. If you’re anything like her… I just. I’m so sorry.” She starts crying.

Immediately a large Orc stomps his way inside the kitchens. “Hani? Hani what’s wrong?” He turns his angry gaze upon me but the woman stops him.

“Garret, it's fine. I just, I was apologizing. I said some rude things and I didn’t mean to upset her.”

His gaze narrows over Hani’s head. “Why would you need t’ apologize t’ her?” He bends down to touch her forehead to his own, wiping away her fear and tears. “Not a single person is worthy of your tears.”

My heart squeezes. “It’s fine.” I tell her. “I wasn’t upset. I was just surprised.” I hadn’t thought of it from the human perspective. Not seriously. Or deeply. It was in passing and any of my negative thoughts quickly went away whenever I looked at U’snar.

Hani laughs nervously. “I’ll say. I really am sorry though. Don’t mind me. It’s just personal preference. I mean—I don’t—”

“Please.” I raise my good hand. “Don’t. It’s fine.” But really, it’s not. I feel like some force is going to try and tear us apart. Our relationship. The three of us. It’s not natural. If we went out any where we’d be the odd ones out. And what about our child? What are they going to call my mates? Will we ever know whose child is whose?

I feel my chest squeezing more and more. God help me.

Hani and Garret leave not long after. Especially after Garret realized who I was. He was skeptical but didn’t say anything more. My reassurance that nothing bad would happen to them especially not being kicked out during this winter seemed to have calmed his mate significantly.

I’m really not angry with her. How can I be? I think if I heard about one guy screwing a pair of sisters I’d feel uncomfortable. And one girl screwing brothers? I’d be a pariah. Not one person would look at me and say “wow, I want to be her.” Because it’s unacceptable. It’s wrong. Taboo. My heart aches in my chest and I honestly feel like I can’t breathe. If you’re pale raise the tail… I’m pretty sure the lack of breathing is pale. So I’ll just—

“Not common. Your mates.” My ears perk up. “Orcs like sharing. Cousins. Brothers. Sisters. Fathers? Mothers? Rare. But no’ bad. Great honor for most.” Burgrol pauses on whatever he is doing. Probably to look at my strange posture with my head between my knees. “Great honor for you.”

I lift my head to stare at him. “But humans—

Burgrol cuts me off. “I am no’ human.”

“You’re more human than Orc.” I try to reason.

He waves a hand down at himself. Encompassing all of him; from the top of his head to the tips of his clawed toes. “I look Orc. I act Orc. I am Orc. Orc is no’ blood. We are people. Culture. Love. Laughter. Knowledge. No’ only war. No’ simple brutes.” He shakes his head, his hair swinging left to right in his agitation. “Humans say we are. We are ugly. We are dumb. We love blood. War. Killing.” He turns to the stove and pulls out my dish I’d long forgotten about. “I love books. T’ learn. T’ cook.” He turns his eyes to me once more. “Am I human? Or Orc?”

“Sunkissed.” I gasp in my surprise, my brows nearly meeting my hairline. How much did he hear? My cheeks burn red .

“U’snar.” He walks around the counter without another word and wraps me in his wonderful, strong arms. It’s so warm here. So easy to forget that I’m human. That he is an Orc.

U’snar must have felt my unease in the bond. I wonder if Jaedason will also come to comfort me. I want to cry. I am with them regardless but for some icky irritating reason, I am torn. Torn between what is right by human standards, and what feels right in their arms. Can I trust this feeling?

“Ah, Sunkissed, you made a delightful looking pie.”

I look at the brown crust and smile softly. “It’s a meat pie.”

U’snar laughs. “Jaedason weel be happy. Meat pies are his favorite.” He takes me from the chair and wraps me in his arms bridal style. “We go wait for him if he is no’ waiting for us.”

“What about the pie?” My belly rumbles.

“Burgrol will send Shalk or Warner.” U’snar shrugs, snagging me a round crisp tasting vegetable. I only know it is a vegetable because Burgrol had informed me about it the other day. That it comes from the ground, washed of dirt and served raw. You can cook it, but it tastes sweetest raw.

“Who is Warner?” The Orc just laughs and shakes his head, continuing to carry me from the kitchens.

~~~~~

“Burgrol says to keep the pie in the pot so it’ll stay warm longer. Jaedason is stuck in a meeting. Something about human looting.” A surly voice grumbles.

I look at Ys’ari’s brother. “Your name is Warner?”

The boy glowers at me. His lips pull back in a snarl. “I’m going to punch Burgrol so hard in that smiling face of his.”

“No’ Burgrol.” U’snar states from behind me. Warner gives him a blistering glare, his lips firmed into a thin line. “A slip o’he tongue. I thought you already told.”

The boy sighs, the anger deflating from his smallish form, his cheeks flush bright green. “I was going to. But I never did. I’m sorry, miss.” He bows to me, hair falling over an eye before he pushes it back with a hand distractedly. “I will remedy this. I’ll make you a dozen candied flowers!”

“What?” But he’s long gone. I turn to a chuckling U’snar. “Candied flowers?”

“Hardened honflouh. They pour it warm o’er sweet flowers. About this big.” He holds up a hand with his forefinger curled against the inside of his thumb the size of a mid-sized coin.

I shrug. “I hope it tastes good.” U’snar wraps his arms around the span of my shoulders, his fingers grazing my waist in a whisper of a caress. I smile broadly up at him. “Yes?”

“Tell you a secret?”

“Hmmm.” I hum. “As long as it’s tasty.”

He chuckles deep in his chest and it rumbles into my body as he pulls me in closer. He bends nearly at the waist to conspiratorially whisper in my ear, “You taste much sweeter.”

I gasp, a pink flush flooding my cheeks to my ears. “U’snar!” I squeak scandalized, looking around us to make sure no one overheard.

“No one is about. Like theyer eatin ‘he mid or late meals.” A soft growl flows over the air causing goosebumps to appear across all of my skin. His accent thick and rolling. “Is good. For am vera hungry, Li’l Lost.”

I lick my suddenly extremely dry lips. “I-I thought we’d wait for Jaedason.”

He hums that approving and thoughtful sound. “He weel no’ mind I treat myself. I ken he would like t’ taste you by himself too.” He easily lifts me up, one palm on my ass, the other cradling the back of me, his large hand cupping my neck and head. My legs wrap around his waist and my arms cling to his neck. He leans his head into his mark and breaths. I suck in a gasp, as his tongue laves at the sensitive spot before he nips a trail up to my ear. He lays me down on my back beneath him on my nest. He pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “You, beau’iful, Sunkissed, mine.” My pupils dilate and my cheeks flush with color. I love when he calls me those names. “Allow me t’ worship you.”

I mew a soft moan, “Always, U’snar.” His groan is a borderline growl and it makes me practically gush and clench around empty air. “Worship me. Love me. Please.”

This time, U’snar takes his sweet time.

Usually, he feels to be the most in a rush. Not because he wants to finish quickly and leave but because he seems unable to help himself. He’s impatient but giving. He doesn’t rush me. Though, my body probably rushes him more than he could ever try to rush me. In the end, he wishes to taste me coming apart around him. And I gladly oblige him.

U’snar begins with my face. He lays gentle kisses and light caresses with his claws across my cheekbones, my nose, and eyes. His tongue gently licks my lower lip, his kisses begging me to open my mouth. I do, on a soft sigh and our tongues glide against each other. It builds slowly into an erotic dance of both of us tasting the other. Delving deeply into the others sweetness. My lungs ache but, as I tilt my head to the side to try and taste more of him, I don’t care. I could gladly die just kissing him.

He pulls away, both of us breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. I love the golden honey that is melting upon my skin, filling me with his sunshine and warmth. “It is my turn.” He starts to undress me. Slowly and for his eyes alone.

“For what?” I give him my sexiest sultriest smile.

“To kiss your skin.” He starts to kiss across my face from cheek to cheek, over the bridge of my nose. Kisses each of my ears in several different spots and even directly upon another kiss. As if he’s trying to kiss each individual freckle on my skin. He trails his lips down my neck and begins the process all over again against those across my shoulders and collarbone.

Aching whimpers claw their way from my throat, filling the air with my heady need. My hands are in his thick beautiful hair. I don’t care about worship anymore. I don’t care about delicate care. I just want his lips on mine and him wrapped up inside me. But he ignores my tugging. In fact, when I get too fierce, he takes my hands in one of his and lifts both of my arms above my head. I moan when it lifts my aching breasts into the air, tips pointed and hard enough to cut glass.

His eyes zero in on them and he grins widely. His tusks gleaming in the firelight. “I remember, you said you were Sunkissed elsewhere. I forgot to check during your heat. But I see you meant here too.” He licks a nipple. The roughness of his tongue not unlike sandpaper only not painful. I wiggle beneath him hoping to dislodge myself somehow. Maybe then I can take him by surprise and—A keening cry fills the air around us, my sex clenches with a desperate gush of need. He chuckles as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. His unoccupied hand pinching and pulling on the other. His tongue laps at my nipple, his mouth tugging and pulling it. Nipping and kissing with his teeth.

With a pop, he switches places with his hand. I grip his hair tightly in my own, not even realizing that he’d let go of my hands. Trying to pull him up, take him away, push him closer. Oh god. Heat fills me, pooling in my belly and tightening like a knot. Stones tossed into a lake causing endless ripples and quakes. My thighs clench as tightly as my pussy, my head shifts restlessly from side to side as I gasp and cry. I’ve never been this close just from my nipples. Ever. “Please!” I beg, my whimpers devastated.

He lifts his head, leisurely licking my nipple in long strokes, causing my back to arch. I want more but not there. He follows my guidance at his own pace. Kissing his way down between my breasts over my ribs he nips them as I arch my back, swirling his tongue in a soft caress to soothe the bite. He continues with his tongue and kisses to my navel where he swirls and dips inside in a mock imitation of his cock and my cunt.

Without warning, he lifts my legs, my thighs in each of his hands, and lets them lay against his shoulders as he devours me.

His stubble rubs against either thigh, scrapping me. Marking me. He takes his time around me. Biting oh so gently on my labia before dipping his tongue directly into my center, only to slip it up and up. He deposits his saliva and my cream over my clit. Gently, he tongues me. Listening to my cries. My soft whimpers. He learns every nuance of my nub. Listening to me beg for so much more. Please please. Oh god yessss. He thrusts two fingers inside my needy channel. In and out and in. Curling and twisting inside me. The buildup. I feel every inch of me pulling tighter and tighter. He bends his fingers to rub the one spot within me I’d never been able to touch with my own hands. “Come for me, beau’iful. Soak me in youer nectar.”

“U’snar!” I scream before trying to curl around his head. My thighs trembling as I crest over the threshold. He rides me through it, taking more from me as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out massaging that bundle of nerves with every outward pull. And his tongue circles and presses on me from the outside, flicking me roughly on each inward thrust of his fingers and I fall so much faster the second time around.

When my climaxes recede and I’m lying beneath him, breathing hard and feeling near exhaustion, I see his gorgeous cock bobbing above me. There’s so much precum that it’s like a leaky faucet spilling into my abdomen and down down down.

He lines himself up, his prick nudging my entrance. Kissing me so very intimately without actually penetrating. He takes my calves in either of his hands, before thrusting forward. His bulbous head stretches my entrance and a silent scream of pleasure makes me arch my back and stretch my neck, my mouth agape.

Without the heat it is a pleasurable pain. He’s so thick and I want him so badly to just say fuck the ramifications, and ram his gorgeous flesh into me. But I know U’snar. He’d never willingly hurt me and right now he is worshiping the air that I breath and going slower than molasses spilled in a chilled room.

The head finds its way within, he thrusts forward only to get an inch or so within, my cunt clenches on him and he groans. “Beau’iful.” He pulls agonizingly slowly out until only the head is within once more and I’m whimpering and whining. Begging and pleading to whoever can hear me. More. More. He slams forward and I cry out, my very breath leaving with my shout. “Sunkissed.” His eyes devour me. Lingering on any love bites he littered across my body. My shoulder, my breast, my ribs, my hip. My skin burns with his gaze. As he does this, he pulls out again nearly all the way before slamming forward. My breast jiggling, my air gone, my body stuffed to full. I claw the bedding beneath me as I gasp for air. “Mine.” The wildness within his gaze lets me know he’s reached his limit. I am his. Every inch. Every morsel that makes me, me, is his. And with every inward thrust he mimes the claim again and again.

I whip my head from side to side. The crescendo happening without my orchestration. U’snar is the male behind the music. I am merely his instrument to play with as he wishes.

As I’m nearing the climax, the beautiful beginning of this wonderful end, I hear it. A growl so deep and full of pure need my gaze skitters from U’snar to look at the opposite wall. Jaedason leans against the wall, staring at me, at my body being pounded into next Tuesday. His thick delicious cock in his fist. He strokes from base to tip, his hand coated and soaked in his precum.

A growl above me. “Mine.” U’snar takes my chin in his hand and turns my gaze back to him. “Right now, you are Mine.” Our eyes lock, him claiming my gaze for his own. My cries for him alone. My song, just for him.

I scream his name, my pussy spamming around him. Begging for him to cum and fill me with his seed. He thrusts once, twice, and finally a third time against the suction of my center before surrendering to its wishes and spilling inside me, his roar mingling with another and momentarily deafening me.

He collapses forward, using his forearms to take the weight of his body so he doesn’t crush me as his cock jerks and sputters inside. I moan each time I feel it, his body shuddering and gently rocking inside.

“Fuck.” I whine, my hips arching into him. By all that is mighty! I can’t get enough of him filling me inside and out.

Glancing to the side, I see Jaedason using his shirt to clean up his mess.

“Alright?” U’snar asks, his honey gaze liquid gold.

I nod in affirmation, so he starts to pull his semi hard member from me. I whimper. Not because of the aches, I certainly do, but because of how empty I feel without him inside me. I don’t know how I’d survived the heat but if it’s anything like I feel right now, I don’t know what I would have done to keep them there inside me, forever.

When he’s finally freed and cleaning me up, Jaedason walks up to us and into my line of sight, fully dressed once more. “Would you like t’ take a bath?”

I jerk up, “You guys have baths?!” And they didn’t tell me?! I’ve been bathing from a washcloth and a bucket for how many weeks and they are just NOW telling me about a damn bath? The audacity!

Jaedason chuckles. “Aye, an’ Ay would like t’ bathe my mate in ‘he waters.” His gaze is warm and inviting.

I nod. “Yes! Fuck I need a bath. Please tell me it’s hot water.”

“Quite.” I squeal with excitement and hurriedly get dressed as best I can with dollops of cum leaking down from the apex of my thighs.