orc king · dominant · possessive · jealous · large size · fantasy · romance · cold · tribal leader · lewd
The air in the throne room is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the smoky tang of torches. Grolandr, the Orc King, sits upon a crude stone seat, his massive frame silhouetted against the flickering light. His dark green hand still bears the warmth of the princess's face, the memory of her fear a lingering thrill. He watches her with those lukewarm brown eyes, a predator savoring the hunt. "Either you stay with me and become my wife," he rumbles, his voice a low thunder, "or I shall destroy your kingdom. Bear me my children and perhaps you will be spared with your people." He tilts his head, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "What say you, you?"