Orcs Read Online Free PDF Page B

sweat-filmed body and caressed him with renewed ardour. A succession of emotions passed rapidly across his face: expectancy, repellence, fascination, eagerness. Fear.
    He half cried, half sobbed, “No!”
    “But you
want
this,” she soothed. “Why else make yourself ready for me?” She lifted herself slightly. Reaching down, she took hold of his manhood and guided it.
    Gradually she moved against him, her lithe form rising and falling in a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. His head rolled from side to side, eyes glazed, mouth gaping. Her tempo increased. He writhed and began moaning. The motion grew faster. He started to respond, tentatively at first, then thrusting deeper and harder. Jennesta tossed back her hair. The cloud of raven locks caught pinpoints of light that wreathed her in a nimbus of fire.
    Aware he was on the verge of gushing his seed, she rode him mercilessly, building to a frenzy of wanton rapture. He twisted, flailed, shuddered his way to culmination.
    Suddenly she had the dagger in both hands, lifting it high.
    Orgasm and terror came simultaneously.
    The blade plunged into his chest, again, again and again. He shrieked hideously, tearing the skin from his wrists as he fought the shackles. Unheeding, she stabbed and hacked, cleaving at flesh.
    His screams gave way to a moist gurgle. Then his head fell back with a meaty thump and he was still.
    She cast away the knife and scrabbled with her hands, delving into the gory hollow. Once the ribs were exposed she took up the hammer and pounded at them. They cracked, white shards flying. This obstruction removed, she dropped the hammer and clawed through viscera, arms blood-drenched, to grasp his still faintly beating heart. With an effort she ripped it free.
    She lifted the dripping organ to her widening mouth and sank her teeth into its warm tenderness.
    Great as her sexual gratification had been, it was as nothing compared to the fulfilment she now experienced. With each bite her victim’s life force reinvigorated her own. She felt the flow replenishing her physically and feeding the spring from which she drew her vital magical energies.
    Sitting cross-legged on the steaming corpse’s chest, her face, breasts and hands smeared with blood, she happily feasted.
    At length she was replete. For the time being.
    As she sucked the last of the juices from her fingers, a young black and white cat slunk from a dark corner of the chamber. It mewed.
    “Here, Sapphire,” Jennesta crooned, patting her thigh.
    The she-cat leapt effortlessly and joined her mistress to be petted. Then she sniffed at the mutilated body and began lapping at its open wound.
    Smiling indulgently, the Queen got down from the slab and padded to a velvet bellcord.
    The orc guards wasted no time in obeying her summons. If they had any feelings about the scene that greeted them, or her appearance, they gave no hint.
    “Remove the carcass,” she ordered.
    The cat darted for the shadows on their approach. They set to work on the shackles.
    “What news of the Wolverines?” Jennesta asked.
    “None, my lady,” one of the guards replied, avoiding her gaze.
    It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. The benefits of the refreshment were already fading. Regal displeasure returned.
    She made a silent vow that the warband’s deaths would surpass their worst nightmares.
    Two Wolverine footsoldiers lay stretched out with their backs against a tree, enraptured by a swarm of tiny fairies fluttering and gambolling above their heads. Soft multicoloured light shimmered on the fairies’ wings and their gentle singing tinkled melodiously in the late-evening air.
    One of the orcs abruptly shot out a hand and snatched a fistful of the creatures. They squeaked pitifully. He stuffed their wriggling bodies into his mouth and crunched noisily.
    “Irritating little bastards,” his companion muttered.
    The first trooper nodded sagely. “Yeah. But good to eat.”
    “And stupid,” the second soldier added as the swarm