Riding Lessons

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to CG, who also threatened me with bodily harm if I did not finish this story. In the interests of preserving my life, I present the final chapter of Riding Lessons.

xXx

Jaera lazily sucked a cube of boar meat from the rough wooden spoon. It was absolutely delicious; succulent and flavorful in an earthy way completely unlike the cuisine of Silvermoon City. She’d had little to eat since arriving, managing only a rind of cheese or bread here and there, with most of her time divided between the raptors and sleep. She felt the crash course in raptor riding had gone well, even given the danger of centaur attack, the threat of a jealous troll-woman and, of course, the undeniable sexiness of her riding trainer.

She could afford to watch Zarang openly in the commotion of a village meal, but decided she shouldn’t take the chance with Iquira scowling at her from across the table. She cast a sidelong glance at Zarang, who sat next to her, tucking into his meal with gusto. She now freely admitted to herself that she was fantastically attracted to him; his face had become familiar to her, with all its animated expressions. His broad shoulders and strong arms made her heart race; his easy gait and knowing smile set a thrill in the pit of her stomach. She pretended to be reaching for a cup of weak wine, and appreciatively looked over the bunched muscles in his thighs.

She had struggled with herself since Zarang had made an unexpected appearance in her fantasies. Was she really lusting after him, or did she want some kind of exotic fling to chatter to her girlfriends about? Did she want the air of forbidden liaisons to hang over her after she returned to Silvermoon? Would any elf want to go where a troll had been?

Really, though, who cares about elves? she thought. All the ones I’ve been with have been so lukewarm, so bored with me. It’s about time that I had a lover that didn’t think my beauty was an everyday thing. And with the electricity that sizzled over her skin from a moment of chance contact, she felt more justified than ever in choosing to take Zarang as her lover.

All this only added to her anticipation of what would follow the evening meal. She enjoyed his deep, almost musical voice saying her name, and she looked forward to hearing it hoarse with lust. Zarang caught her eyes as she sipped at her wine; the burgeoning lust she saw in his gaze made her weak, and she lingered in the heat of his regard before turning back to her meal, eating with newfound zeal. She would need plenty of sustenance tonight.

Iquira had watched their lascivious exchange with brewing malcontent. “Eat up, elf girl,” Iquira hissed across the table. “You gonna need all de strength you can get.”

The words were overloud at a table suddenly hushed. The other trolls looked back and forth from Iquira to Jaera, sensing the possibility for a dramatic scene between elf and troll. Those that kept eating, did so with one eye on the developments.

“Iquira,” Zarang started, but stopped when Jaera spoke over him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Iquira.”

Iquira turned her venomous gaze on Zarang. “Don’tcha wanna own up ta it, mon? Don’tcha wanna tell de village how dis elf girl was gonna get her raptor?”

The elder Jin’nil, a wrinkled, aged troll at the head of the table, stood up. “What’s dis about, Zarang?”

Zarang glared at Iquira before meeting Jin’nil’s direct look. “I made a bet wit’ dis elf, dat if she could ride a raptor wit’in one week, she could have dat raptor for free.” A few gasps and startled sounds went up from the table.

Jin’nil moved his jaw to the side while chewing thoughtfully. “And dis elf, she rode one of your raptors, did she?” The elder’s penetrating stare fell on Jaera, who met it without flinching.

“Dat she did. She chose de big green hen for her mount, and rode her inta battle against a centaur scouting party dis aftanoon.”

Murmurs welled up from the other trolls, who looked to Jin’nil. Jin’nil waved them away. “Dis t’reat is known to us, but Zarang and dis Jaera Sunwing given us more den enough warnin’ to turn away any new centaur attack.” Jin’nil’s eyes settled back on Jaera. “So you rode de raptor?”

Jaera nodded. “Bareback, sir.”

A soft chuckle rang around the table at the ‘sir’, but Jaera didn’t mind seeming a little backwards and formal in exchange for making it clear that she respected the Elder’s position.

Jin’nil looked back at Zarang. “And dis satisfies de terms of your wager?”
Zarang nodded. “I admit it was a damn fool wager to make, but I never asked for help from no-one when it come to gettin’ raptors trained. It’s my own business how de raptors get paid for,” and here Zarang pinned Iquira with a scathing look, “And no-one else’s, mon.” Zarang seated himself among noises of assent and agreement.

Iquira was quaking with rage and she leveled an accusatory finger at Zarang.
”Don’tcha be lyin’ to de Elder like dat! I saw you and dat elf on de shore dis aftanoon, and she was doin’ more den enough ta give you a down payment!”

Jin’nil had raised his hand to silence Iquira’s frothing when Jaera made a noise of protest. “It is not your business what Zarang does with me. I met the challenge and won my mount.” Oh, she could play the catfight game. There was plenty of it in Silvermoon, and troll-women were no different, apparently. She set her jaw and met Iquira’s furious glare with a wicked grin and continued, “You know, business before pleasure.”

Jin’nil lowered his hand slowly, sensing that this was moving into a realm beyond the control of men. Women had their own politics, separate from tribal politics, and he was not about to get tangled up in a war between a troll and an elf.

Iquira sneered at Jaera, her outward-bent tusks making her appear more ghoulish by firelight. “I bet ya know a lot about dat,” she said.

Jaera stood up, her hand on the short sword at her hip. “I know a lot about a lot of things. Want to test me?”

Iquira’s face showed a moment of hesitation, and it was long enough for Jaera to smile smugly and fold her arms. “Thought not.” Zarang seemed a little shocked at the showdown that had taken place, but Jaera only motioned to her panther, who had been drawn to the raised voice of his master. She gave a small nod to the Elder, who nodded in reply, before turning and walking toward Zarang’s hut.

One of the male trolls snickered at the impotent Iquira, who was forced to stand in silent anger and watch as the victor walked away from the fight. “Iquira, if I’d been knowin’ you needed companionship dat bad, I’da offered.”

Another male troll laughed in agreement. “For serious, mon, you’d t’ink Zarang was de only male in dis village from de way she actin’!”

Tittering and laughter brought the hushed table back to life, and within a few moments, the meal was again raucous with the jokes and stories of trolls. Zarang used the return of conversation to finish his meal and quietly left the table. Iquira made a move to go after him, but an older female grabbed her hand. “Dere’s no call for dat, girl. You lost dat man when you called him out at de table.”

Zarang found Jaera in his hut, packing up her belongings. The panther snarled as the doorflap moved, but Jaera’s hand on his haunches silenced him.

“Are you leavin’, den?”

She finished cinching a buckle on her knapsack closed and then stood. “I don’t see much reason to stay if a harpy like that is going to-”

Her words were cut short by the look on Zarang’s face; he had brought an oil lamp, and it betrayed his emotions far more clearly than his voice had. Jaera watched him struggle with disappointment and desire and then defeat as he resolutely nodded his head.

“I can’ keep you here against your will.” He pulled aside the doorflap and motioned with the lamp. “Le’s go get your raptor.”

The moonlit walk through the chilly Durotar night was punctuated by occasional hoots of laughter from the center of the village and the rise of a tide of drums and flutes; an impromptu chorus and then more laughter made Zarang’s despondent mood even more jarring. He wordlessly collected her tack and bridle from the stables before leaving the lamp with Jaera and heading out to the rocky pasture where the raptors slept. Jaera followed him, watching with a sting in her eyes and a lump in her throat. The green raptor lifted her head drowsily and yawned with a snap of her heavy jaw.

“C’mon, girl. You got a new master now.”

“Zarang, wait.”

Zarang paused in the middle of stooping to put her lead on, turning to Jaera. “What now, Jaera?”

Jaera’s composure dissolved in the cool air, in the earthy smell of the stables. She looked down at her hands, and then at her panther leaning into her leg for moral support. Her shoulders sagged. “I want to leave so that Iquira won’t be able to make your life hell later. But-”

Zarang stood up, straightening to his full height. His face became hidden in shadows thrown by the flame Jaera shielded with her right hand, but his voice was gravelly with emotion. “Iquira can’t make my life hell any more than has already. Dat girl had her eye on me since before I could remember.”

Jaera shakily continued, squinting into the flame. “BUT,” she said again, trying to find where she had left off, “I want to stay for you. I haven’t felt this alive in so long, and I’m afraid of what it means, Zarang.”

“Whatchu t’ink it means?”

Jaera swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in her eyes again. “I don’t know. I am scared of how much I want you. I am scared of what others will think when I return to Silvermoon,” and she stopped briefly, looking up into the darkness where his eyes would be, “because I don’t intend to pretend that you didn’t happen.”

Zarang’s hand gently took the lamp from Jaera’s, and then his other hand took hers, smoothing over the back of her hand with his large thumb. “Don’ worry about Iquira.” His face was still in shadow, but when he spoke, his voice had regained its deep musical quality, and she let out a shuddery breath. “I can’t help you wit’ de elves. I can tell you dat I have no regrets about dis bet. It’s up to you to decide if’n you feel de same.”

Zarang waited, perhaps a little impatiently, for her reply. His mood had been jerked around all afternoon and into the evening, and he wanted some resolution to the stone of doubt that seemed to have settled in his stomach. In the cool air, he resisted the desire to chafe his arms, unwilling to disturb the stillness for something so trivial.

The spell broke when he heard her pick up her knapsack. “I’ll stay.” Her voice was unsteady, but sounded a little relieved.

“You sure?” Zarang’s gut ached with pent-up frustration that demanded satisfaction, but he wanted to be sure that this was what they both wanted.

“I’m sure.” That was more like the confident Jaera he knew, the one that had nearly driven him mad the night before.

“Den let’s get out of dis chill.” His hand settled with broad familiarity at the small of her back, and she felt the tension in her body drain. She leaned against him as they walked back to his hut, relishing both his presence and his warmth. At the door, Jaera gave her panther the command to guard and watched him curl up on the doorstep. Zarang couldn’t help but grin.

“You t’ink we might be gettin’ interrupted?”

“I want to make sure we don’t,” Jaera replied.

Zarang took a moment after setting down the lamp to pull the thin scrim over the window, affording them some privacy, but left the window open. Jaera unbuckled her sword belt, wrapping it around the weapon and resting it next to her knapsack. They found themselves facing each other, their hands empty and pretenses gone.

Jaera had spent countless uncomfortable evenings trying to be intimate with other lovers, and had hardly ever felt as if she was in the same room with them. Here she was in the home of a man who had placed his trust in her, far more than any elf had ever done. She was utterly overcome with how intimate they had become already, how the very air seemed to be of him and from him, heady with desire and yearning.

She stepped forward and slid her hand under the edge of his shirt, and he willingly lifted his arms, maintaining eye contact with her until the garment obscured his vision. She tugged at it gently, and he raised his hands to ease the collar over his tusks. Jaera smiled and took his shirt, straightening it before draping it over a wooden beam above her head.

Zarang pulled at the sides of Jaera’s shirt, untucking it from her breeches. A little sand fell out, scattering on the floor, and they smiled in unison. Emboldened by this reminder of the afternoon, Zarang pulled her against him suddenly, inhaling as he felt her weight against his body. His fingers roamed over her back, slowly pulling her shirt up as his fingers groped and encircled her curves. Jaera obediently lifted her arms and Zarang pulled the shirt over her head, making an appreciative noise at the way her freed breasts came to rest.

Jaera stepped forward and Zarang welcomed the crush of her skin against his, smoothing his hands over her nude back and down into her loosened breeches, curving his hands over her buttocks and giving them a needful squeeze as he hauled her up against him. A satisfied giggle escaped her, and Jaera pushed at his chest. “Let me finish what I started this afternoon.”

“Finish what you started?” Zarang chuckled. “I don’ t’ink you was de one dat started it,” he teased.

“Then let me start something,” Jaera replied, an impish set to her lips.

“What a pushy elf you are,” Zarang laughed, before standing back and gesturing to himself with a confident smile. “Whatchu gon’ do to me, woman?”

His answer came in the form of Jaera’s hand sliding down over his stomach, unbuckling his belt and sliding her hand in his pants to stroke his swelling length. “I seem to remember someone mentioning troll meat,” she said, relishing the look of raw lust that passed over Zarang’s face, “So I thought I might start by acquiring a taste for it.”

Zarang was utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze, the directness of her desire. With a small breath to relieve the sudden surge of blood that pounded in his ears, his hands opened the front of his pants and eased his heated flesh out into the cool night air, leaving his pants in a pile on the floor. He reclined on his bed, his arms folded behind his head as he watched her.

Jaera’s skin tingled warmly at the sight of his naked body; a spreading wetness between her legs made her whimper with readiness. There was so much she wanted from him, and she wondered if one night would be enough. She captured his eyes, keeping them locked with hers as she unlaced her breeches and peeled them away from her skin. They crumpled on the floor as she stepped out of them and crawled between Zarang’s knees.

She tucked her dark hair behind one ear as she kissed up one of his legs, punctuating a few of the pecks with small nips, and smiling to herself as he shifted to allow her better access. She happily obliged, dragging her fingers from underneath his scrotum to the base of his shaft and listening to him suck in a breath as she teased him with her warm breath before veering over to his other thigh, continuing her nuzzling exploration of his lower half.

“Jaera, dat’s too much,” Zarang managed, his words half-gone with his hunger for her.

“What’s too much?” and she filled her mouth with one of his testicles, swirling her tongue around it and listening with satisfaction to his strangled cry. His chest rose and fell deeply as he groaned; his legs drew up and he lifted his hips toward her mouth. Jaera released him, listening for his shaky exhalation of relief, and then sucked his other testicle into her mouth, closing her eyes as his arms snapped to his side, fingers curling into her hair.

Zarang thought he was going to explode. He had never had any troll-woman do things like this to him. His balls were already tightening, lifting as she stroked him; she hadn’t even touched his straining erection.

He couldn’t help a chuckle as she leaned back from his crotch. She had been keeping her hands busy; he saw her fingers glistening with wetness as she reached forward to grab him, spreading her slickness over his purpling cock. Zarang closed his eyes as she threaded her fist on to him, responding by thrusting himself up into her fingers.

Jaera watched his hips move, squeezing as he moved up and releasing as he withdrew. Just as he let loose a deep rumble of pleasure, she leaned down, tonguing the slit on the end of his dick.

“Ah, Gods! What in de hell are you tryin’ to do to me, Jaera?”

She stopped, feigning a look of surprise, her tongue smoothing the underside of his glans, looking up at his face.

“Don’cha give me dat innocent face. I can tell by de way you’re makin’ my blood boil dat you know good and well what you’re doin’.” Zarang sat up, taking her hands from around his length and putting her upright so that she was face to face with him, her hips poised over his. “But now it’s time.”

Her coy game called, Jaera was at something of a loss until Zarang lifted his hips to brush her labia with the head of his penis. Her head fell back and she tilted her hips in an attempt to capture him and draw him into her. Zarang smirked and instead cupped her mons with his hand, sliding his thick first digit along her cleft, coating his finger with her slick arousal.

“Zarang,” she murmured, one hand steadying herself on his shoulder. His finger was sliding further between her folds, stroking the length of her inner labia, but he avoided tucking his finger inside her. It was driving her up the wall.

“What?” he answered, hardly seeming concerned with her growing frustration.

“Don’t just… pet me like that,” she whined. Zarang tried to put on an innocent face, but it didn’t work as well. He loved seeing her eager body move toward him, moving her hips in a spastic rhythm as she tried to buck her hips against his hand. He obliged her by sliding just inside her, fucking her with his finger and pressing up into her swollen flesh, a wicked look of pleasure curving his face as she whimpered for more.

“Jaera,” he crooned, even as her face screwed up into expressions of panting pleasure.

Jaera was absolutely out of her mind with how he was touching her and wringing ecstasy from her muscles. Her name sounded like a question, but she couldn’t formulate a response in her current state; she was too overcome, too flooded with sensation to think. Zarang moved her body as easily if she was a doll; she bent against him, shaking as she neared orgasm. She heard his deep voice whispering in her ear, his left tusk firm against her head and his breath hot in her hair. “Say my name, Jaera.”

It broke from her in a long, wailing sob as she reached for her climax. “Zarang! Please, just please!”

“Gooood,” he purred, and in one smooth motion slid his finger out of her and pressed her down onto his cock, relishing the way she sobbed when he sank into her, feeling the strong compressions of her muscles as she came. He pumped his hips into her, watching her quake and shiver as he pressed home.

She rocked herself against him as her orgasm receded, her arms draped over his shoulders.

“Zarang?”

“Yes?”

She groaned as she leaned forward to embrace him. He felt her clenching around him. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he replied, as if she had not asked a question at all.

“We’re not done, are we?”

Zarang chortled at the note of disappointment in her voice. “No, Jaera. We’re not done.” He lifted her by her hips, watching her eyes roll back a little as he slid free of her. “Turn around,” he directed, and he marveled at the sexy curve of her back, the play of shadow and lamplight across her ass. She planted her palms on the cot, her knees on either side of him, and looked over her shoulder at him.

He rose to his knees, holding her hips in place with one hand, and fitting the head of his cock between her labia. She sucked in a breath between clenched teeth as he seated himself inside her.

“Now lean back,” he whispered, watching her body swallow his length.

Jaera felt like she could hardly move, impaled as she was on his shaft. She managed to straighten herself, pressing her back against his chest. His head settled over her left shoulder, and his hands cupped her breasts, seizing her nipples and plucking them until they were almost painfully erect.

“I’m gon’ show you,” he said huskily, “how a troll makes a woman his.” He punctuated his words with a squeeze of her breast and a fingertip flicked across her nipple. His hand slid down her belly, pressing into her mons and then stroking her clit as he began to thrust up into her.

He was moving inside her faster now; she was already beginning to build to orgasm again. He pulled out and then parted her again, sinking deep into her. Jaera bent at the waist, pressing her chest to his bed, slipping one hand between her legs to rub her clit as he rutted into her. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her back on his cock as he pushed forward, slamming himself into her with a grunt.

Zarang slowed his pace and leaned down to smooth her back with his tusks. She gasped and moaned, shivering as he got closer to her neck. He jerked his head quickly, leaving a long red scratch on her back with one tusk, and then made another motion, leaving a similar passion mark with the other tusk. He was pleased with how well she took it, but it only enflamed him further. She was no breakable doll. She was hardy and vital, gorgeous and intelligent, and she was writhing beneath him.


It broke something in him, and he lost his rhythm briefly before regaining it in one final, maddening drive toward release. He heard her cry, saw her face wrench in an expression of nearly unattainable delight, and then his orgasm was on him. He roared as his muscles clenched, trembling in orgasmic ecstasy, his voice wavering as his climax faded and he thrust slower and slower. Her cries had slowed to throaty moans, and his erection was already withering, completely drained by his titanic orgasm. He pushed once more into her before withdrawing and stretching out next to her.

She yawned, a look of satisfaction on her face as she shifted to face him. Zarang pushed a few damp strands of hair from her face. “Are you all right, Jaera?”

She nodded sleepily, opening her mouth to reply, only to find a yawn escaping, and tucked her head under his chin, sliding her legs to drape one of them over his hips. Zarang reached with his foot to grab his pillow at the other end of the bed, tossing it with a quick motion and catching it with a free hand. He nudged her head up, and she lifted it obediently, smiling when she put it back down on the pillow.

xXx

Jaera looked like a natural in the saddle, Zarang thought. The green was already ready to go, scratching furrows in the baked earth with her killing claws. Jaera’s panther waited at the rise on the outskirts of the village, and more than once he heard it give a yawning roar.

“Which way are you headed?”

“To the Felwood, on the other side of Orgrimmar. There are some Legion cultists there that are giving local druids trouble.”

“Druids?”

“The Cenarion Circle.” Jaera held the reins at the ready, smiling at him. “Thank you, Zarang.” She jerked her chin back to his hut. “I left the money for the saddle under the bed.”

Zarang nodded. “Keep ‘er safe.”

Jaera smiled and patted the raptor’s neck. “I will.”

Zarang pinned her with a sly look. “I was talkin’ to de raptor.”

xXx