CAPTURED BY THE ORC
Chapter 18: Escort Required
Samson was already awake when the sun came up the next morning. He'd been reliving the events of the past few days over and over, wondering if he would ever see his family again. He thought about his brother, Kane. He could be out there searching for him right now. Samson remembered all the dangers he'd faced in the forest. A sharp pain gripped his heart.
No. There's still hope. I can't give up.
The mattress shifted and Samson rolled over in time to watch his captor stretch nude in the middle of the bedroom. Dalthu's muscles rippled with each bend and twist, his triceps flexed impressively as he reached for the sky. Samson knew firsthand how strong the orc was, but watching him in the morning light, the warrior seemed to have been sculpted from pure jade as a tribute to a deity of beauty. Samson chewed the insides of his cheeks. He couldn't deny it. Dalthu was strikingly handsome.
For a monster.
Dalthu turned suddenly, revealing his impressive nether regions, and locked eyes with Samson. "Ah," he scratched his head apologetically. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," Samson replied, averting his gaze. Flashbacks of taking that thick member into his body were all too vivid.
I can't believe that fit inside me.
His captor's brow furrowed and he hurried to Samson's side. "Bad dreams?"
"I just couldn't sleep." The orc's member now bobbed next to Samson's head. Samson covered his face with both hands.
"Is there anything I can do--?"
"Other than putting on pants?" Samson's cheeks burned as he gave a pointed nod toward the orc's swinging manhood.
The orc warrior only then seemed to notice his state of undress. He gave Samson a roguish wink. "Don't stare," he said. "You'll get its hopes up."
"Bastard," Samson hissed before he could stop himself.
"Yes, darling?"
Samson's mouth went slack.
Darling?!
He squinted up suspiciously at Dalthu, but the orc only batted his eyes innocently.
Fine. If that's how you're going to play...
"Jackass," Samson snapped.
Dalthu's reply was immediate. "Precious lovely."
"Shithead."
"My sweet beloved."
"Stinky, flea-bitten mongrel dog."
"Honey dewdrop of joy."
"Bug-eyed, shovel-eared, moss-eating, dick-for-brains brute!"
Dalthu doubled over with laughter as Samson was huffing and puffing. "Haa, oh little tiger," the orc warrior wiped away a merry tear, "I wish I could spend the whole day exchanging endearments." He pulled a loincloth around his waist. "Mother probably won't visit today. Dwarven ale always gives her terrible hangovers."
"That's fine. I'm going out today anyway." Samson got out of the cot and slipped his tunic over his shoulders.
"Truly?" The orc's golden eyes shone with happiness. Dalthu clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Then, ah yes, wait a moment..." The orc trotted out of the bedroom and returned a moment later holding a leather pouch; it was nearly bursting at the seams and emitted the unmistakable clinking sound of coins. He handed it to Samson with a proud grin. "Here, for you."
Samson hefted the pouch in one hand.
There must be nearly a hundred coins! I could buy my whole village with this.
"What on earth do you expect me to do with this?" he marveled.
"Whatever you want, my little tiger."
"Oh?" The corner of Samson's mouth curled up. "What if I want a sapphire the size of an eagle's egg?"
"It shall be yours."
"What about a suit of armor made of gold dragon scales?"
"I will pull them off the the beast myself."
"How about an elvish princess to sing me lullabies every night?"
"What? My voice isn't sweet enough?" Dalthu chuckled. "As long as she learns one or two orc ballads I suppose you can have your princess."
"Silks?"
"Of course."
"Furs?"
"Anything, little tiger. You can buy anything you desire."
Samson squeezed the pouch, feeling the outline of the coins. "What about my freedom?"
The orc's smile collapsed. Seconds ticked away before he finally spoke. "There is no treasure on this earth that would be worth that." Dalthu held out his hand and Samson, thinking his captor wanted the pouch back, held it out for the warrior to take. Instead, Dalthu grasped Samson's hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss against his skin. "You are priceless," he whispered and a thrill ran through Samson.
Don't let him sway you. Remember your goal.