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He bows to us both before bending over.

I find out where that metallic plinking sound was coming from when he rises with the golden bowl in his hands.

Oh. My. God.

Did I say my embarrassment button was broken? Nope, turns out it was only glitching for a short while. It comes back full tilt when I see the large bowl nearly filled to the brim with our combined release.

To my horror, the Orc priest raises it to his lips and takes a giant gulp, visibly swallowing before holding the bowl above his head. “Dynasty endures!”

“DYNASTY ENDURES!” the crowd yells at the top of their lungs.

The priest starts to leave with the bowl. I do not ask because I do not want to know what he plans to do with it.

But before he can depart, I feel a very distinct swelling beneath my thighs.

The ridge is back.

“Little Bride…” He strokes my face. “You have laid siege to me without a single weapon.”

Then he calls out to the crowd, “Emperor is girded for second part of ancient wedding ceremony!”

A shocked murmur ripples through the crowd.

Apparently, I’m not the only one surprised by Ivar’s super-short refractory period.

But the priest just scrambles back up the stairs and extends the bowl toward him. “Let Mage know when Emperor is ready to begin second part of ancient wedding ceremony.”

Wait, this guy is a mage—as in the kind that have caves with Lower Realm portals in them?

My brain trips over this new nugget of important information.

But then another thought eclipses that one.

And though it’s probably better for my rapidly unraveling sanity not to know, I have to ask, “There’s a second part of the ceremony?”

Chapter 13

The Official Wedding Ceremony, Part 2

“Breathe, Little Bride,” Ivar instructs softly as he penetrates me again.

This time he’s claiming my back hole.

So… as it turns out, Orcs don’t consider themselves married until both holes are claimed.

The Emperor currently has me folded in half above his lap, his hands on the backs of my thighs, pulling my knees up to my shoulders. His hands are so large that his ring and pinkie fingers are able to spread apart my butt cheeks, opening me wider to accommodate the tip slowly pushing into my ass.

“You are doing so well,” he soothes above my high-pitched sounds of strain. “Your Emperor is halfway in.”

“More dynasty anointment, Emperor?” the Orc mage asks, once again extending the golden bowl.

“Yes. Gratitude, Mage.” Ivar folds the back of my legs over one arm so he can scoop up another big palmful of our combined release to smear into my back hole.

But I have to admit, the dynasty anointment is sort of… hot, I guess?

Again, both figuratively and literally.

Probably due to his furnace-level base body temperature, the homemade lube is heated in a way that feels terrific on both my back and front holes. Earlier, he spent a ton of time prepping me with it, giving me orgasm after orgasm until he managed to work two of those insanely large fingers into my virgin hole.