Just as a little note, she's not gonna get pregnant until I make her pregnant; which will be a while from now. However there is also the scientific way of looking at it, so it just doesn't seem like I'm saying it's not happening until I say it does; they are different races, not just that but he's an orc and his genes are kind of mutated. So mixing those two genes can make for bad combinations that make it so the embryo cannot survive. So she could get pregnant from now to whenever I make her, but she miscarries and may think it's nothing more than her period. Just as a note, in case anyone wonders why she's not pregnant.
Guest: it was pretty intense, and thank you I'm glad you liked it.
PS: I'm glad to hear you survived, and I promise it's a lot better in this chapter. He's huge, over 7 ft; so he's like Yao Ming size, but he couldn't tear her literally. It did feel like that for her though, but I swear this chapter is better.
X. please know my heart is in your hands/it's nothing that I understand, but when in your arms/you have complete power over me/So be gentle if you please, cause/your hands are in my hair but my heart is in your teeth/and it makes me want to make you near me always
Azog returned to the tent when night fell to find Calla letting her hair loose. It was surprisingly warm in the tent, unlike the chilled air that made many shiver. He laid beside her and watched as she ran the comb through her hair, wrapping a curl round his finger. She smiled at him, a sweet lovely smile that made the corners of his mouth itch as though he wanted to smile in return. In moments like these his desire seemed to spring out of nowhere, the sweeter she was the more he wanted her. He sat up and she laid back, something he was unprepared for – she had taken to sitting on her knees when she saw his want. His blood boiled when she spread her legs around him, watching as she pulled her dress above her hips; oh how he wanted her. A look in her eyes told him she would not be refused and he had no way of telling her he did not wish to rub against her, he wanted to be inside her where her warmth surrounded him.
But she didn't move, she stayed on her back with her legs spread baring herself beneath his gaze. So he turned her.
"No," she said pushing his hand away, refusing to turn over.
He sat on his knees and stared down at her, his eyes pleading the words he could not make her understand. Again he tried to move her but she grabbed his wrist and held it, shaking her head once as she continued watching him. He finally grabbed her legs and turned her roughly onto her stomach, pulling her up onto her knees. And even then she refused, confusing him and leaving him stiff and throbbing ready to thrust inside her.
"I don't like you taking me on my knees."
He stilled when he heard her speak, her gentle voice growling words he was startled she knew. He stared down in her eyes as he hovered over her, watching as she rolled onto her back and looked up at him once more. He knew she hadn't enjoyed it, had thought with time she would, now he realized she wouldn't; and then he wondered if he had hurt her. And with that thought, which flushed him with guilt, he lowered himself between her legs to please her the only way he knew how – though he longed to be inside her, though he was never fully satisfied, he would give her what she wanted simply because she wanted it.
He pulled her legs around him, realizing he had missed the feel of them tight around his hips, just as he was realizing he missed seeing her beautiful face, and he made to thrust against her.
"No," she said again and he looked down at her bewildered.
"What is it you want?" he asked completely at loss.
She did not understand his words, but she knew what he was thinking. The words she had spoken before were the only ones she could remember, Yazneg having told her it would take her a good deal of time to understand the rough way the orcs spoke so he'd given her something small. It had surprised Yazneg, shocked him even, when Calla had finally told him she did not like being taken from behind but she did not know how to tell Azog. Yazneg had asked her what she did want and had been at loss for words as she mumbled she wanted to be on her back, for Azog had often pleased her that way when he did no more than rub against her. So baffled with uncomprehension that the growls from their tent had not been from Azog taking her but from merely rubbing himself between her legs, that she'd had to repeat herself. That had been the moment Yazneg realized how much Azog had truly come to care for the girl.
And so Calla was left with no more words for him to understand, so she showed him. She pulled the loincloth from his hips, taking in how hard he was, before looking back to his eyes. It was then he understood she wanted him inside her, just not on her knees. She watched the realization dawn in his eyes, and then the uncertainty; she was right, he had only ever taken a woman on her knees.
His blood burned hotter at knowing she wanted him; though a woman willing on her back was foreign to him he happily complied, realizing just as she had – that was where her pleasure lay. He could not slam her hips against his, could not pound into her fast and relentless; his pace was slower, not so rough, and it was almost agony how slow his finish swelled until he was crying out and shaking as he came. He laid breathing heavily on top of her, her small hands around his back her mouth against his shoulder and his head on the floor. Never had he thought it would feel like that: his finish searing him, his growls unrestrained turning to desperate moans the closer he came, her legs wrapped around his hips and her hands on his chest, thrusting into her as she lay beautifully beneath him.
It wasn't until the next night he realized he enjoyed taking her on her back more than on her knees, it was torture how slow pleasure built but he was left barely able to hold himself up as his finish tore through him. And he laid atop her for long moments after as he caught his breath and his heart beat furiously, and Calla came to love those moments. Often times he rested his forehead against hers, stroking her hair or her cheek; his eyes were not so hard, his face softened. In those moments he was completely and utterly hers, and it had shocked her how much she loved it. He came to enjoy those moments as well, allowing for a short while to be gentle; to touch her cheek, to feel her hands on his chest or his face, to see the warmth in her eyes before he rolled away.
He left her during the day, and without her warg she quickly grew bored of the tent. Most often she put on her coat and watched the orcs train the warg pups, seeing Azog was right in hers being the fiercest; by the middle of winter all of the younger wargs followed her, she looked like a little white queen. And more often than not Yazneg was at her side. Azog normally found them together whether outside near the wargs or her sitting with a blanket on her lap in the tent.
The first time he'd seen Yazneg near her he'd stopped and watched, and then he'd stepped closer and listened to her trying to pronounce the sounds of a word; her voice was small and gentle, too sweet for such dark sounds, but he almost smiled when he heard the word leave her mouth. He did not mind Yazneg teaching her their language, he liked it for it meant they would be able to speak to each other at some point; but he did not like how like Yazneg looked at her, as though she were a marvelous creature he wished to please – or kill. Sometime in the middle of winter, when their breath painted the air and small snowflakes fell from the sky, he stopped when he saw her with Yazneg; a small smile on her face as she spoke. Rage boiled in his veins as he looked at Yazneg, for talking was something he greatly wished to do with her and he hated Yazneg in that moment for being able to; not only that, but for making her smile. All mirth left Yazneg's face when he saw Azog walking toward them, and the pale orc looked down as Calla turned to him with a smile.
"How was your day?" she asked, sweetness wrapped around the dark sounds that made up his language. She continued gazing up at his surprised face looking pleased with herself.
"Good," he answered back simply, staring hard at her waiting for her reaction.
"That's good," she told him still smiling. She stared at him expectantly and he looked at her confused. "Ask me about mine."
Azog nearly smiled when Yazneg translated. "How was your day, Calla?" he asked her.
"Good," she answered back even more pleased with herself; Yazneg had also taught her alright and bad, as well as I don't want to for the days she did not feel like laying with Azog.
The orcs nearest watched as Azog spoke with the girl, who they knew they were not allowed to touch, as well as knowing Azog had no plans of letting her go; and later that night they would talk excitedly and wondrously about how he'd raised his hand to her cheek, touching her fondly.
When night fell she had barely registered he was in the tent before was on her, he pulled her to her feet and tugged her dress from her shoulders; his cold hands raising bumps along her skin, making her shiver as he touched her hardened nipples. He spread the fire that burned in him to her, licking her bones with his flames. He was not rough as he entered her, he did not race to reach his finish; he let the torment of feeling passion in his fingertips drive him, holding her hips so his thrusts were angled up, watching the wild dance of her breasts as they rode with his movements.
He looked to her face when he heard her release a breath, seeing her eyes were closed and her lips parted. Even more he slowed his movements, an arm around her waist holding her hips off the ground as he drove into her. Her eyes opened as a startled moan escaped her, her dark blue eyes met his pale ones to see him watching her. She couldn't stop the moan from leaving her throat as he moved, her hands around his back, her legs tight around his hips. Her whole body buzzed, she could feel it even in the ends of her hair; never had she felt anything like this, and her eyes closed once more unable to stay opened.
He wanted to see every passing look of pleasure that crossed her face, and so he pulled her onto his lap as he sat on his knees – hearing her strangled moan as he filled her more than he had before, not even he could silence his growl at how she felt on top of him. He held her hips and thrusted into her, feeling her mouth against his chest as she muffled her sounds. Her next groan, which was loud and scratched deep in her throat, he heard as he pulled her hair arching her neck to see her face. Every ounce of ecstasy, her eyes shut or staring into his, her lips parted and her rough sounding moans swirling around him; his eyes took in it all. He felt her nails digging in his arms as she clung to him, felt her legs quivering as they tightened around him, felt her breasts rubbing against his chest as he moved in and out of her, felt her silky hair around his fingers as he kept her face angled to his, felt her hips pushing against his as she sought him, felt her grow tighter around him as her finish reached its peak, felt his own finish building as she arrived at hers – in that moment, as she nearly screamed, he felt her soul.
He released his hold on her hair, letting her rest her head against his chest as he sped up the movement of his hips, feeling her body going limp as the tension left her. He kept his arm around her back, the first time he'd held her, and whimpered unintentionally when he felt her mouth against his chest; her tongue running along his skin as she gently nipped him. He flattened her to the ground and thrusted wildly into her, roaring and crying out as he moved feeling her pressing kisses to his neck, her teeth dragging against his throat as her mouth sucked. He yelled as he came, feeling all of the universe surrounding him as he filled her with his seed.
There was no tender moment where he stared in her eyes, where he touched her face or she touched his; exhaustion settled around them both and he did no more than fall on his back as he panted, and she herself only grabbed the warg hide and pulled it over their waists before laying her head on his chest as she breathed heavily. She felt a twinge in her heart when he placed his hand on her back, pulling her closer and holding her against him. He felt a twinge in his own heart when she placed her hand on his chest; his heart beating in the palm of her hand.
song is Near You Always by Jewel - however, I can't decide if it's from Calla's perspective, or if that how Azog feels. (metaphorically of course cause he has no hair)