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thecandywrites · 3 years

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Blood For Gold Chapter 13

Wooo! It has been a while dearies. Let's see, my baby sister's husband, so my brother in law got diagnosed with Lupis which at this point is a relief that it's not his cancer coming back so there's that. My parents rushed down to AZ to be with my dying grandparents and are trying to let them pass from the comfort of their home without having to go into a nursing home, hospice called us and said 'you should come down and say goodbye while they still know who you are' so we all rushed down to do just that and I just came back from a week down there doing that which was emotionally draining and devastating. My other sister's dog tore a ligament and needs a 5k surgery to fix it. This particular sister has no kids and her dogs are her kids, which is perfectly reasonable and valid. And my Chron's Disease is flaring and trying to kill me for the...I've lost count of how many times it's tried to kill me for the 25 years I've had it, (I'm 35, just to put that into perspective) and I have an emergency colonoscopy on the 6th that I need to prepare for.

So sorry for the delay on updating this story, I've been meaning to update this for A VERY LONG TIME and mentally I knew exactly how I wanted to write it, I just had no time, energy, drive or opportunity to write UNTIL TODAY. So you are getting this hot off the presses and I want to pick up and GO GO GO before my life completely falls apart.

Again so many thanks to @kriskukko for letting me use her still gorgeous, still amazing, still epic REGENCY ERA ORC ART. Just...still in love with it.

Thanks to @punkhorse96 for all your amazing feedback. Now, we get into THE DANGER ZONE. Much plot, so sex, big TORN. Enjoy. *evilly cackles*

Blood For Gold

Chapter 13

Your family completely monopolated your time the moment they came and wouldn’t let you out of their sight and you couldn’t get a moment’s peace or solace, except when it came time for the masquerade ball at the Midnight Peacock, then everyone seemed to disappear and leave you alone to change and you couldn’t hardly wait for tonight, Axal told you that The Red Velvet Rope was hosting this particular masquerade ball so all of the brothel’s workers would be there along with almost all the other moura individuals in all of London would be there tonight.

It was going to be your first time going and you had brought out your new masquerade dress that you had made in your “widowhood” because while you recovered from your mourkatilli addiction, and healed from the other trauma and abuse, you needed a project to keep you occupied.

It was a special one, it was reversible with a twist. It was really four outfits in one. A skirt with two different layers, and each layer was reversible and a top that was sewn and embroidered in such a way that it was four tops in one, each one to also coincide with one of the layers of the skirt. So if you wore it “normally” and “inside out” and “right side in” on each layer, you would have four unique outfits and you had embroidered all four layers in two of the styles of tops, when not being worn on the outside would roll up and give you something of a push up bra, so that it would appear in such a way that it would look like one scene one way and in the reverse, a completely different one but still in the same shapes in an elevated double embroidered piece. It was some of your best work to date. And you had a fabric mask pinned into each skirt so that the masks you wore changed with it, and you wore your hair in such a way that it could change, from up, to half up and half down to fully down and in a variety of ways and Axal had told you that Ramsey had confided in him that the place had “changing” rooms where you could change your outfit as needed, in case you needed to change yourself throughout the night. So you left the Palace of Windsor in one of your more “flashy” and luxurious facets, complete with a cape that was also reversible with your family.

Once at the place you immediately left your family and “changed” into the most simple and understated of the four, a black embroidered top and simple black skirt with no embroidery, it was simple yet elegant and began looking for Demsey Draft, because you needed to warn him about the other mouras that had come as well break off any connection with him so that you couldn’t be implicated later because the last thing you wanted was for Duke Demsey Voyambi to know that you had ever set foot in a whorehouse. You wanted him to feel and know that if the attraction you had to him was returned by him, that you would be loyal to him and he would have your complete fidelity and you would leave Mr. Demsey Draft where you found him, in your hopefully long forgotton past. A woman was allowed to go a little wild in her mourning right?

Meanwhile Demsey had done the same, only he didn’t have any reversible outfits, instead he went straight to the “coat room” and “rented” a change of clothes, he had to find Audra Draft and break things off with her, and solely pursue Sultana Audravienne.

And like clock work, only moments after going around the place, looking for Mr. Draft, when you found your prize, coming out of the changing room, dressed how you thought he’d be, simple, rather plain but dignified.

“Mr. Demsey Draft?” You asked once you found him.

“Miss Audra Draft,” He smiled in relief that he found her, or rather, that she had found him although why she insisted on calling his last name of Draft, maybe she was trying to give him a pseudonym to protect his real identity as you were thinking the exact same thing, although tonight would be the last time you would ever answer to such a name as your moura marks lit up like fireworks again, practically glowing and pulsing through your clothes and on your skin as Demsey flushed with desire because that was going to be one of the many things he was going to miss about Miss Draft.

“Might we have a word?” You asked, even though your heart was screaming for one last release with him before you cut things off with him completely.

“Yes, by all means.” He agreed as you took his hand and led him away to a private booth in the little restaurant side of the place as most had gathered in the dance hall and were already beginning to dance the night away.

“Before anything else, I must tell you that after tonight I must break all contact with you, you see, I’m going to be pursuing a very wonderful woman, and I can not do so with any prior attachments or engagements, she is the kind of woman who deserves whole hearted and whole souled devotion.” He began as your heart was relieved and happy for him but broke at the news as your moura marks stopped pulsing and flashing, instead, simply faded to a rose gold then stopped which broke Demsey’s heart to see as he recalled how the Sultana's marks flashed rose gold when she was upset or sad. It still must have been a universal moura thing, he supposed.

“Well isn’t that a coincidence, I came to find you to tell you something similar. I also found someone, a wonderful man actually, who I wish to pursue whole heartedly and without reserve.” You replied.

“So...The Red Velvet Rope is no longer…” Demsey began.

“Part of my life? No. Never, you?” You asked.

“Same, I will never set foot into it again.” He professed.

“Probably for the best. So, I know you wish to probably keep certain things private, and I don’t expect you to tell me who it is that has captured your attentions and affections, and whoever she is, I can only hope and pray that she is worthy of them.” You offered, feeling much more than a pang in your heart, much more than you were expecting anyway, the whole day you had prepared yourself for this moment, rehearsing what it was that you wanted to say to him. He was, after all, just a manwhore in a whorehouse, you shouldn’t have any real emotional connection with him and it should be easy to walk away, but now that it was happening, your heart, soul and body screamed for the reverse. It felt like it had been too long since you got to hold him in your arms, kiss his sweet mouth and marvel at the way his body seemed to always meld and mold to yours and bring you the sweetest of releases.

“Thank you, and likewise.” Demsey graciously offered.

“Out of curiosity, you don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to, but the woman you are going to be pursuing, is she an orc like you?” You asked curiously.

“No, she’s actually, um,” Demsey began before he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“She’s moura.” Demsey confessed.

“Oh, well in that case...I know...or rather, I have heard.” You rephrased, not wanting to tell on yourself too much as Demsey smiled sadly at you as you cast your gaze away from him guiltily as you felt tears prick your eyes as a strange panic seemed to grip your chest.

“I have heard that there are many mouras here, and new ones have come into England fairly recently. Please beware, there are some mouras who are not “typical” and perfectly lovely and good people and others who are actually true to the typical type cast. Surely you have heard the saying that “a moura’s beauty is always outmatched by their greed for wealth and power.” There are some who prove that saying false, and some who prove it true. Please beware of the latter and make sure that the woman who has caught your eye is the former, for only ruination follows the latter’s footsteps.” You tried to gently warn him, fearful he had seen Benny and fallen in love with her like any other orc male had.

“I will, and if you will do me the same honor. Would you tell me what kind of man has caught your attentions and affections?” Demsey asked, even though part of him didn’t want to know and part of him was wishing it was a proper moura, so she would be with her own kind who would understand and sympathize with her and treat her the way she deserved, which was an invaluable treasure, whether she was "tainted" or not.

“He’s an orc. Although I do not know if he leans more towards the old orcish ways and culture or if he will hold true to the English ones although I guess there are some things that are similar in both cultures. I am at a loss as to how to pursue him and what will reach him and prove that myself and my own intentions are true, and how to prove to him that I’m one of the atypical moura’s unless he has already judged me to be typical then I am at a loss for I know at least one member of his family already has but I’m hoping he does not share their views. Because first impressions are usually the most firmly set and hardest to prove otherwise, no matter the word or deed.” You confessed and Demsey felt his rage begin to flare, the moura before him was clearly not the power hungry type. Anyone with half a wit could discern that about her, much less see it with their own eyes.

“Is he….is he a commoner or is he gentry?” Demsey asked, feeling actual panic whirling in his chest, he knew his brother had gone to The Red Velvet Rope and if Sierge had found her, he could be charming and could talk his way into any woman’s knickers if he really tried but Sierge would no sooner bed her before he shamed her for doing so. Sierge was his brother but Sierge was also a rake and downright dangerous to any woman’s honor.

��He is in the gentry. That’s why it gives me pause, so far he has been a dream, a perfect gentleman and he comes from a good family and noble business. There is nothing about him that gives me hesitation except that I do not know if he shares the attraction. He may just be very polite and friendly and I’m reading too far into his gestures or he may already share his opposing family’s views of what a moura can typically be. But...he’s worth pursuing if he does share the attraction, I was hoping I would find him tonight and I could feel him out for it, if not, there are others that are pursuing me. And...I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, or if...if I should just forget all of it and be better off alone.” You confessed as your own panic settled in that you would never see the man across from you in this tiny little booth, barely big enough for two, ever again. It was like you were magnetically drawn to him and you were helpless to fight against it in his company.

“But in any case, I will miss you, and I will remember our brief moments together with fondness.” You offered as you fought the tears in your eyes as your gold moura marks faded to a dull brass color, Demsey had never seen anything like it before, it gave him the most worry, since he had almost become accustomed to reading the Sultana’s marks like her facial expressions.

“You are too good.” Was all Demsey could say, his own heart breaking that he was going to lose, forever, the one other woman he felt any real connection to.

“So are you. Whoever she is, if she ever gets to bed you, she’s in for a treat.” You tried to tease with a grin but the bittersweetness in your eyes cut him to the core.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, may life treat you well and may the woman who captured your attention be worthy and return it and show you the same loyalty and respect you will surely show her.” You offered as you did your best to get out of the small booth to get away before you cried your eyes out right there at the table as you damned yourself for being unduly attached to a manwhore in a whorehouse rather than Duke Demsey Voyambi who you were sure was probably a much better man but still, your heart already ached at Demsey Draft’s absence.

He seemed to take your cue and got out of the booth as well as you curtsied in place as he bowed respectfully before you turned on your heel and tried to get away.

But you had barely taken two steps before Demsey quickly took three steps to catch your arm in his hand which caused you to stop and turn and turn right into his other hand that framed your face and brought it to his own as he gave the hottest, most soul scorching kiss of your life and you’d be lying through your teeth if you tried to say that you protested. Your body betrayed you as you kissed him back and glued yourself to him as your marks revived and started to pulse and flash again.

“One last time?” Desmey pleaded when you broke for air.

“One last time.” You readily agreed before you grabbed his hand again, saw along a far wall a room with the words “pairs dressing room” above the doorway and quickly ran with Demsey following you, his hand tightly grasping yours, weaving through the crowd and pushed a five pound note into the abbess’s hand and took the last available “pair’s changing booth” which was really just sex booth with a bench in it as you pushed Demsey to sit down as you readily straddled his lap as he undid his pants as you hiked up your skirts and stripped out of your Dorierran panties and seated yourself onto him and began to ride him in earnest as he partially undressed you, undoing your top and tossing it aside, still marveling at your moura moura marks as they pulsed and glittered even in the low light as your eyes practically glowed gold as well in the lower light of the darkened closet since there was only a lone candle burning in the corner as his hands went under your skirts and grabbed good handfuls of your arse and helped move your pelvis over himself so that your ground down deliciously before reattaching his mouth to yours and kissed you for all he was worth, pouring every ounce of his heart and soul into it before leaving hot, lisentious kisses on your neck and chest, capturing those oh so precious pulse points as you undid his collar so you could feast on his own neck and chest and once it was revealed you bit down his neck as he growled dangerously and hissed in pleasure and moaned when you soothed your mark with your tongue before inflicting a second, a third, and fourth and losing count after that as your mouth then moved to his collar bone and his very sensitive nipples, which he did appreciate your attention to as he did the same to you, because for this brief moment, you were his, for the last time, he was going to leave evidence that you were his, for this all too brief, but glorious moment, that nothing else mattered but your pleasure and once you shuddered and keened as your legs shook from the first orgasm as your moura marks lit up the room and glowed like soft sunshine as the orgasm seemed to flood your senses, he was picking you up and pinning you against the wall and driving up into you almost mercilessly but you loved every bit of it as you clung to him.

“Please Demsey, my dearest, darling Demsey, please, cum in me, fill me.” You pleaded desperately into his ear as you were near tears from how amazing and spectacular this was.

“Not yet.” Demsey cooed in your ear.

“Demsey please.” You begged as you felt another orgasm approaching and he still would not stop and that one nearly made you black out from pure ecstacy as the room lit up even brighter because that orgasm was bigger and more intense than the last and then he set your practically limp body down on the bench and went to his knees and replaced his cock with his mouth onto your already overly sensitive sex and ate you out like it was his first real meal after months of fasting as he settled your legs over his shoulders as the light that continued to pulse and glitter on your moura marks on your thighs and legs and lower belly provided all the light he needed as you laid back onto the bench as your pelvis rested in his hands as he moved you how he wanted you and you were powerless to stop him as a third orgasm bloomed in your body and lit up the room like a fire had started inside it as you did your best to hold onto your very soul so that it would not leave your body completely as you cried out in almost painfully blissful ecstasy as your hands gripped the edge of the bench pitifully, your knuckles going white, not caring in the least who could hear you and that’s when he finally relented and had you sit in his lap on the floor, with your bare chests touching and caressing the other and there was so much love and tenderness in his desperation to fuck you senseless as he held you fast to him and drove up into you and upon the fourth orgasm, the biggest and brightest of them all, did he finally relent and fill you so full it overflowed and you spent the longest moment just clinging to each other, neither of you wanting to let go of the other as you both basked in the ever so intense afterglow as the light from your moura marks slowly faded to nothing as once was desperation, was replaced with tenderness, softness and sweetness was you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the waves and subtle curls in his thick, luscious locks as your fingertips scratched ever so deliciously on his scalp as he scratched your back in turn, savoring every precious second of having you in his arms, trying to commit every detail to memory, not wanting anything to go missing when he would want to recall this later. Whether it would torture him or bring him fondness or joy, only time would tell.

Soon though, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“You two alive in there?” Came the abbess’ call.

“Yes, we’re almost done. Just a moment please.” You answered back as you reached around him and adjusted your mask back into place since it had become slightly askew so that he would not discover your true identity as he seemed to do the same before you reluctantly untangled from each other and helped get each other get redressed and recomposed.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, it was always a pleasure.” You offered as you took his hands and kissed his knuckles tenderly before you left the small room and quickly weaved your way through the crowd to the other end of the Midnight Peacock to get changed into another side of your outfit, this time, one of the lighter, more luxurious ones as you took a vial of perfume that was in your necklace and put some around your neck and chest to cover up any “evidence” of Mr. Draft’s presence on your body even though you had taken a moment to savor the scent of it one last time as Demsey seemed to do the same, changing out of his “rented” second outfit and back into his original one that he came in wearing and didn’t care to notice how the outfit seemed to be given to another orc who had come in, this one, more bluish in color who quickly changed into it to enjoy the party himself once Demsey had traded it in for his old clothes at the counter.

“Is there a bar here?” He asked the person overseeing the single dressing rooms once he came out redressed in his original outfit.

“Yes, it’s right through there, you can’t miss it.” She answered as he followed her direction to find a young lady, dressed is discrete luxury already sitting at the bar, drinking absinthe.

“Sultana Audravienne?” Demsey took a chance and asked which perked you up as you turned to see him.

“Duke Voyambi, I thought you would be dancing.” You offered, even though, your legs were still jelly from Mr. Draft’s endeavors.

“Usually, yes, but um, tonight, I’m not...I’m not really inclined to dance.” Demsey confessed because he was worn out but also he just let the greatest lover of his life so far slip through his fingers and he was in no mood to dance.

“I’ll be honest, neither am I, would you like to join me?” You offered.

“Yes, I’d love to.” He readily agreed.

“Well it seems since we both seemed to guess who the other is, there is little point of these then is there?” You asked as you pointed to the second mask you had pinned into the top you were currently sporting.

“No there isn’t.” Demsey readily agreed as both of you took off the masks and set them neatly on the bar as he got up onto the barstool next to you as you had already taken your hair down, letting your thick braid lay down your back.

“Absinthe?” He guessed, looking at the glass you were drinking from and recognizing the green liquid that filled it.

“Yes,” You readily confirmed.

“May I have one?” He asked the bartender who nodded and poured him a small glass of it, letting it pour over a cube of sugar and offered it up to him.

“Is this your first time drinking it?” You asked him.

“Is that obvious?” He asked as he took a few tentative sips.

“Absithe is the only “dangerous” drink they have here.” You answered.

“What would you prefer to be drinking right now then?” Demsey asked.

“Cyanide.” You answered without hesitation before he practically choked on his drink.

“Cyanide?” He repeated as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Mouras are immune to poison, remember? Cyanide is to me what wine or whiskey is to you.” You explained.

“But absinthe is still just a little poisonous right?” He asked.

“So is tobacco, but yet that doesn’t stop anyone from smoking it.” You shrugged as you looked out over the already cloudy room, filled with smoke from other patrons practically smoking up like chimney’s.

“Touche.” He had to chuckle.

“Do you like tobacco?” He asked.

“No, although hashish is popular back in the stables, if the sultanate states were still open, alcohol is illegal but hashish which is like tobacco but not quite since it comes from a different plant- is perfectly fine. But both can be hard on your lungs and mouras can be very sensitive to both, but here in England, it just depends on what’s fashionable at the time.” You reasoned as Demsey seemed to nod along with that sentiment as he took a longer sip of his drink.

“True.” Demsey agreed.

“So how are you liking it now?” You asked as you nodded to the drink.

“It’s growing on me.” He admitted.

“Yeah it does. Anything sweet usually does.” You grinned before you heard a cheering boom behind which inclined you to turn around to see what was going on to see Ramsey and Axal flamenco dancing with each other, their feet stomping very fast and rhythmically on the wood floors as Axal was wearing his matador masquerade outfit, it’s bright pink color and bejeweled state catching everyone’s eye but not to be outdone by Ramsey’s equally impressive baby blue one as well as Yalin and especially was cheering her son on while your mother and other members of your family were around cheering Axal on as well as you just shook your head, two peacocks flaunting their feathers at each other as Demsey looked on and just shook his head as well, having already exerted his own herculean amount of energy and spent it on Ms. Draft, wherever she would find herself now, although a quick scan of the crowd, he couldn't see anyone that looked even remotely like her. But he was with who he really should be spending his time with and now that he was with her, it was a different kind of comfort and happiness, but it was sadly tainted by guilt and strangely disappointment that didn’t make a bit of sense. Wasn’t this exactly what he was hoping for? To be with Audra, the real, authentic Audra, somewhat privately and all to himself? Then why, when he looked at her, he kept seeing glimpses of Miss Draft and why was he wishing that he was actually sharing this drink with her? What had happened in that room to change his mind? This morning he had been so sure that Sultana Audravienne was the one for him but something in Miss Draft had him hesitating and it didn’t make any sense at all.

But the way you were looking at Axal and Ramsey, caught his attention, you were...disappointed, or disinterested and clearly unimpressed as you just shook your head and turned back around and finished off your absinthe and got a menu as Demsey asked for one as well before you went ahead and shared yours with him.

“So what sounds good?” You asked him as you looked it over, already picking a few things out in your mind.

“Uh the lamb kebabs sound most appetizing.” Demsey answered before you grinned. It was a Medetteranian dish and right up your alley.

“The lamb kebabs it is then, the portions should be good size too, let’s share.” You suggested.

“Absolutely, I’ll defer to you, order whatever sounds best to you.” Demsey offered which got you to beam happily before the bartender came back and got your order as you went ahead and ordered everything that sounded good to share with Demsey and before you knew it you had taken up a good portion of the bar and had begun sharing a surprisingly good and wonderful meal together.

But what surprised you was how Demsey was correctly eating each dish.

“What?” Demsey asked as you paused in eating to watch him eat.

“It’s just, you’re the first Englishman who has known the right way to eat this. Most have no idea you’re supposed to use the bread instead of a knife and fork.” You explained as you copied his movements, using the bread to dip into the different sauces, scoop up the rice and the bits of grilled meats before bringing it to your mouth.

“Uh, well…” Demsey stuttered as he flushed with some embarrassment, because it had been Miss Audra Draft who introduced him to these dishes and had shown him the proper way to eat them. But he couldn’t tell you that, for fear you would think less of him for visiting a whorehouse, because the thought of you thinking less of him was worth than anything else he could imagine at the moment.

“Uh, there’s some orc dishes that are similar in how they’re eaten, it just...seemed natural and the right way to eat it?” He supplied, hoping you couldn’t see right through him.

“Some things just make sense I suppose.” You shrugged, having thought you’d have to explain everything but instead both of you had just dived right in.

“They do.” Demsey nodded as he quickly tried to stuff his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else.

“So um, you obviously know much more about this cuisine, what can you tell me about it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Well since you asked…” You grinned happily before you went through it again as Demsey was struck by how similar Miss Draft and you were, so similar in voice and mannerisms and gestures. It was almost like he was sitting next to her again as his heart almost strangely ached for her. But that was not fair to you. You were not her and she was not you. But the dishes themselves must be common knowledge among all mouras, he supposed.

But you couldn’t help but notice that while Demsey was still watching you and listening the best he could, the look in his eye and in his expression, it was like he was missing someone and you began to fear that there was perhaps another in his life, someone he had known before you ever met him. Someone his sisters did not know and maybe before Kate Whitesale. But one who clearly knew the Sultanate Quarter or Hanging Garden Quarter rather, of the stables because that’s where these dishes came from. What if the only reason he liked you, was that you were the legitimate copy of what he really desired? There were so many more mouras here in England than you realized and more than a few were a striking resemblence to you and most of whom, were actually commoners. What if you were the gentrified version of what he really wanted?

That would make sense. What if he came here, looking for her and couldn’t find her and instead settled for your company?

“Are you alright?” You asked.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine, just...I think the smoke is getting to me in this room too.” He tried to excuse, damning himself for not being completely present with you.

“Can I get a bottle of spiced rum please?” You ordered from the barkeep as you started dumping and piling everything on the largest platter as Demsey took your cue and followed your actions until everything was on the large platter before he paid the tab at the bar before he put the lid over the large platter as you grabbed the bottle of rum and followed you through the place where you found a staircase and climbed up it as Demsey followed you before you found what you were looking for, a balcony on the roof of part of the first floor. And on the balcony is where you found Calla and Tzane already sitting at one of the tables and eating something similar.

“Audra!” Calla called you over as you happily went over and pulled out two chairs before Demsey sat the platter down onto the table.

“I thought you two would be dancing.” Tzane noted as he sat next to Calla, the two of them practically sitting thigh to thigh and as close as could be without actually sitting in the other's lap.

“Not in the mood to dance tonight.” You confessed as you sat down as you noticed that Calla and Tzane had also foregone their masks that were on the table as well as you sat yours down as well as Demsey's since his hands had been full carrying the platter.

“But always in the mood to eat.” Demsey grinned happily as he took the lid off the large platter.

“Oooh, that smells really good.” Tzane praised.

“The Hanging Garden Quarter has some of the best food in all of Dorierra,” Calla grinned.

“Well I think this is too much for the two of us, if you want some, have some,” you readily invited as Tzane and Calla didn’t need to be told twice before they got their plates and loaded them up before they dug in themselves before Calla walked Tzane on how to “properly” eat it as the four of you fell into very easy and wonderful conversation before Calla noticed movement in the balcony of the second floor and her eyes went wide as she grabbed Tzane’s hand under the table and squeezed it hard which got him to look over to her before he followed her line of sight to see Ramsey and Axal making out on the edge of the balcony on the second story as he started to choke on his food.

“You ok?” You asked as Tzane punched Demsey in the leg under the table and subtly pointed in the direction he wanted Demsey to look before Demsey gave the direction a curious look just in time to see Ramsey finish kissing Axal before he went down to his knees and undid Axal’s pants and started to suck him off right there on the balcony and choked on his own food as well before you reached over and pat his back.

“You ok there Demsey?” You asked, concern clearly written on your face and in your voice before you head Axal groan a moan which caused you to turn your head just as Axal seemed to notice who was around and moved so that Ramsey was between himself and the balcony that looked down over the first balcony so that Ramsey was hidden from the view from below.

“Hey Axal,” You waived happily, pretending to be oblivious as Demsey, Tzane and Calla looked in horror at each other.

“Hey Audra.” Axal waived.

“Getting your cock sucked by the son of Pharoh?” You asked in Arabic since you knew Axal well enough to know that pleasured look on his face and didn’t want the rest of the table to know that you knew what was really going on.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Well enjoy the night air, it’s a nice night tonight, keep everyone out of my hair, I’m with who I want to spend the evening with.” You called back in Marinai as Calla tried to recapture her composure.

“Will do!” Axal called back with two thumbs up.

“Uh...what...what did you say to him?” Demsey asked you as he tried to keep composed himself as Tzane was trying to gulp down the rest of the wine he had gotten for himself and Calla, down from the bottle.

“I asked if he was enjoying the night air, and when he said yes, I told him to keep enjoying it since it’s beautiful weather we’re having tonight.” You answered sweetly, continuing to act oblivious.

“Yeah, he’s enjoying it alright.” Tzane coughed into his fist as Demsey glared at his little brother as Calla just flushed as she drank down her glass of wine as well.

“Aren’t we all?” You asked with a scheming grin.

“Well, yeah, maybe not as much as he is though.” Tzane answered as he kept his gaze down at his plate before he tried to fill his mouth with food to keep himself from saying anything else as Demsey glared dangerously at Tzane before Benny and Sierge came out to the balcony as Benny was taking her hair down from its original style as the two still had that giddy, love drunk look with each other as it was clear that a tryst had just transpired between the two.

“Oh hey guys.” Sierge greeted cheerfully, as he came over before you scooted closer to Demsey who also scooted closer to Tzane so that Benny and Sierge would have room at the table.

“Oh good, you guys already ordered food, we worked up quite the appetite on the dancefloor.” Sierge said as he grabbed unused plates from the next table over and gave one to Benny before he helped himself the spread on the table.

“Among other places.” Benny cooed with a playful wink to Sierge who ducked his head and grinned bashfully as you simply smiled knowingly as you gave Benny a meaningful look and she gave a subtle nod that had you nodding along with her.

“Good.” You simply noted as you happily dug into your own food.

It wasn’t until the bluish orc came out, still wearing the rented suit that Demsey had been wearing earlier with Audra’s essences on it- came onto the balcony too with another lady with him before Sierge sniffed the air, turning his head and sniffing the air deeply in his direction.

“What does your bloodhound nose smell now? Does he have better food or what?” Benny teased Sierge.

“Uh, no, uh, I’ll tell you later.” He told her with a meaningful look as she looked intrigued as he sniffed that scent again before he turned back to the table and began sniffing again before his nose seemed to land on you before he quickly turned his head to stare at the platter of food as his eyes went wide for a moment before he seemed to try to be recomposed.

“Yeah, this food smells the best.” He tried to play off casually but he still gave you a weary look as he looked at Demsey who was staring at him in confusion as Sierge pointedly looked at Demsey, then at you then at the bluish orc then back to Demsey pointedly as Demsey just looked at him in complete confusion but sadly, your parents found you and pulled you back inside because they had requested the Hanging Garden Official Dance Anthem and felt you should dance too just as Ocearian found Axal only moments after Axal had cum down Ramsey’s throat and had gotten redressed and adjusted as you let your mother take your hand and lead you away as Calla and Bennie followed as Sierge grabbed Demsey’s arm to keep him from following along too.

“What?” Demsey asked.

“Audra, the Sultana, she has a lover, he’s that blue orc over there.” Sierge accused.

“What?!” Demsey balked.

“My nose doesn’t lie, I can smell her all over him.” Sierge insisted as Demsey looked from his brother to the orc in question.

“Find out for sure.” Demsey said before he left and quickly tried to catch up to you to see you already on the dance floor, surrounded by family as you all danced the danced in synchronized steps.

“Good evening sir, can I talk with you for a moment?” Sierge asked the gentleman.

“Uh, in case you couldn’t tell I’m kind of busy right now?” The guy answered.

“I’ll give you five pounds for five minutes of your time.” Sierge offered.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” The guy immediately told his companion before he got up and followed Sierge a short distance away.

“What?” He demanded.

“First, what’s your name?” Sierge asked.

“Robert Wainsright.” He answered.

“And your orc name?” Sierge prodded.

“What does it matter?” He protested.

“Ok fine, who have you been with tonight?” Sierge asked.

“Her! That’s the only one I’ve been around all night! Why does that matter?” Robert demanded.

“Because the scent on your clothes says otherwise, now tell me again, have you been intimate with anyone tonight?” Sierge demanded.

“What are you the fucking coppers? What business of yours is it who I’ve been with?” Robert protested.

“Because the smell on your clothes implicates you.” Sierge growled dangerously.

“Implicates me in what? A fucking murder?” Robert demanded angrily.

“You know what, fine, if you say you haven’t been with anyone other than the lady at the table, then I have no choice but to take your word for it, who is she by the way?” Sierge asked as he took out his wallet and began going through his bank notes to find the right one.

“She’s one of the workers for The Red Velvet Rope, she works in the kitchens.” Robert answered as he took the bill from Sierge’s hand.

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to know.” Sierge grinned triumphantly before he left and went back inside to see Demsey watching appreciatively as you danced with your family, with a bright happy smile on your face which brought a fond one to his own hands.

“And?” Demsey pressed Sierge.

“The guy’s name was Robert Wainswright and he claims the only one he was with was the lady he was eating with.” Sierge reported.

“Ok, well maybe your nose is wrong for once.” Demsey nodded and went back to watching you dance and enjoying yourself as Sierge fought with himself whether he should tell his brother or not but now was not the time or place and when the dance ended you ended up pulling Demsey to the floor to dance with you as Demsey, despite previously having no stomach for it, was suddenly all too happy to try to dance along to these strange dances with practically hypnotizing music but the best and yet the worst part was, to see your moura marks on your skin flow, pulse and flash like fireworks was both amazing yet, plagued him with guilt that he, once again, was forced to recall Audra Draft’s marks and how they would do the same thing. He needed to get over her. Maybe it would have been better if he had not seen her tonight and not been drawn in by that vixin's siren's call. Because then he would have focused completely on you. You deserved his undivided attention and affection and having you compete with any other would be a crime against the gods.

But he did feel kind of smug that if Ramsey got any closer to you, he had his own ace up his sleeve, to know that Ramsey was actually having intimate relations with your brother no less, you had told Demsey yourself that you were the jealous type and would not share your partner with anyone, much less a family member and when and if you ever found that out, you would immediately rid yourself of Ramsey for good, all he needed to protect himself from now on was his own implications with Miss Draft and he was as good as gold and as long as you never found that out, he was sure to win your affections honestly and wholeheartedly. Miss Draft had just been a bad mistake, made...thrice, but only thrice and no more.

Demsey didn’t care if he looked ridiculous, he was dancing with you, almost holding you on the dance floor and being so close to you, to have you smiling up at him like he was the only man in the world you had eyes for had his heart soaring and his pride beaming and his possessiveness over you almost insatiable. In this moment, yet again, he was overcome by his gut telling him that you, were the only woman in the world for him and that Miss Draft would from now on, only live in his past, never again in his future.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 13 #Wooooo #regency era orc drama #orc romance #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #exo #exophilia #whew #the plot thickens

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