She wriggled her leg a little more, giving up trying to move her foot between the tight leather loop, frowning. Anjasa closed her eyes for a quick moment, thinking, opening them wide as Jumwa let out a low growl of satisfaction, his voice husky with lust, “She’s tighter than ju, An-jah-sa.”

Her face fell, her body going limp for a brief moment, freezing in her place. Even her breath caught in her throat, struggling to get out ahead of the swallowed sobs. The little rat whimpered softly, pleasured and soothed by his words, Anjasa imagined, though it must have been all in her head. No idiot would teach a dirty elf orcish.

Anjasa glared at Jumwa, her eyes clouding over with tears before she blinked them away. No matter, anyways; he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he was staring down with a smile on his face, making lovey eyes with his little rat. “Ju could please any man with jour body…” he trailed off, leaning in to kiss her neck, cautious of his tusks on her smooth neck.

Kim’Jael made a tiny noise like a cat purring, tilting her neck up and exposing it to him. She rubbed her hands along his sides, brushing the back of her fingers across his dark blue skin. Anjasa pulled down on the top of the headboard angrily, making a little huffing noise. Jumwa didn’t even flinch, instead lowering his head to the woman’s chest, kissing along her collar bones, “How many trysts is this, now? Every day for a week? Two? More?” he smiled, murmuring into her chest.

The night elf let out a tiny sigh, lifting her long, muscular legs and placing them on either side of him, her fear having quickly disappeared at his loving attentions. Anjasa growled lowly at Jumwa, jamming her arms down again, the wooden headboard flicking back roughly against the wall. She kicked her leg, looking at Jumwa threateningly. Nothing he could do to her physically could possibly be worse than this.

And he ignored her, kissing the elf’s neck again, “Tell her. How many times?”

Then the little rat had the audacity to look at her, her golden eyes twinkling with a teasing smile flittering on her lips, “Many times,” she spoke. Her voice was hard, crackly, too squeaky for her own good, Anjasa thought bitterly, spitting at her angrily, the liquid barely landing an inch from her face, blood apparently in it. She groaned softly and swallowed, staring the two down.

“We were talking, before you came in, An-JAS-ah,” he hissed again, “about how she knows her place.” Jumwa didn’t look at Anjasa’s sour face as he spoke, instead talking to Kim’Jael, as if she weren’t even in the room.

“She’s so pretty, too. So tall. So strong. She doesn’t need to dodge and hide. She can come right out and fight, one on one in combat,” he sighed softly, never pausing his thrusting, never missing a single beat. He pressed one of his hands into her shoulder, pinning her for a moment as he readjusted himself, then moving to lift her legs back further, pressing her knees to her long, pointed ears.

“So flexible, too,” he groaned, pressing her back further, her feet wrapped around his neck. “I taught her to speak orcish. She caught on much better than ju.”

Kim’Jael looked at Anjasa, her face youthful and happy, her eyes not aged or cynical. Trusting eyes. ‘Jumwa would eat her,’ she scowled, fighting back the tears that threatened to free themselves, blinking and turning her face from them. Jumwa didn’t bother reprimanding her this time, so lost in his own passion. Anjasa struggled to roll onto her side, finally realizing why he had tied her outer leg and not her inner. He didn’t want her legs held open. He wanted her to watch.

Kim’Jael looked back up at Jumwa, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting it softly and sighing against him, her breasts bouncing with his thrusts. Anjasa rolled away as best she could, her lower lip trembling, digging her long nails into her elbows, trying to find the edge of the ribbon, desperately struggling to turn further away.

Jumwa sighed and moaned, moving himself from her loins, leaning down and kissing her body, dragging his tusk playfully over her nipples, then down over her stomach. Kissing her mound softly, he licks it, pressing his lips into hers, inhaling her heady scent, “A special treat for the true Anjasa,” he smiled, looking up at Kim’Jael. Anjasa snapped her neck to stare at him, the hiss gone from her name, because it wasn’t any longer hers. Death’s mate. She shuddered all over, convulsing a bit and struggling against her restraints roughly, her voice stuck in her throat, a low growl of anger and rage, staring at Jumwa, “Stop!”

His eyes flicked to her, staring at her coolly before looking back at Kim’Jael, lowering his face to her loins. Breathing on it softly, he growled, “Some never learn. No wonder I need to replace her.”