World of Warcraft: Anamnesis
The door shut behind Varian a little harder than intended, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Light, people are trying to drive me insane, Varian snarled inwardly as he paced his room while taking off his armor, letting the parts fall to the floor haphazardly.
If it isn’t the nobles, it’s my advisors. If it’s not my advisors, then it’s the wars in Northrend and Outland demanding more than I have to give. And if it’s not those, it’s the thrice-damned Horde.
The reminder of the Horde made him snarl quietly aloud. The root of all my problems-and more than just political.
He wasn’t sure what had prompted it, except that Garrosh had crossed some line during an argument, and it felt like the next thing he knew he was having some of the best sex of his life.
He shuddered at the reminder and could already feel heat pooling in his groin.
Hate him, Varian growled inwardly.
His body didn’t seem to care, though, if the shivers that crawled down his spine and made his breath hitch were any indication.
A hand found its way to his head and he sighed quietly. Stop it, Varian. You’re not that desperate.
He had stripped to wearing the cotton shirt and breeches that protected his skin from chaffing due to his armor, and growled quietly, unhappy at the erection that he could already see forming.
Hate him, he reminded himself as he ran a hand through his hair, but the annoyed gesture only served to remind him of how the Mag’har’s fingers had tangled in it as he pressed against Varian in all the wrong ways that felt far too good.
He shook his head in frustration. Doing any kind of work would only serve to make him bored, which would probably just make the recollections all that more potent.
Not like they weren’t already potent enough. He had plans for the orc if they ever met in that capacity again.
Varian blinked. Do I want to meet him like that again?
He had loved his wife. She had been a soothing presence that tempered his temper, had been something soft and gentle and beautiful in his rough and violent lifestyle. He had enjoyed having sex with her, but he had to remember to be gentle, to be careful, considering he was larger than she and had only a vague idea of his own strength.
Still, sex had been sex and there was no way he was going to turn it down-especially on the occasions she came onto him.
However, there was no comparison to how gloriously warped it had felt to be with Garrosh and it had nothing to do with how long it had been since he had a companion.
He choked down a moan as his body reminded him what it felt like to be in the Mag’har and his skin prickled.
I think so, Varian admitted to his disgusted chagrin.
His erection was no longer remotely ignorable and he huffed in frustration even as he struggled not to squirm.
It had been a long time since he had pleasured himself. Privacy was a precious commodity as a king, considering that people were hyper-aware of his safety, especially considering how eventful his life had been.
I should lighten security on Anduin once he hits his teenage years-it would be cruel to do otherwise, he thought absently as his fingers brushed against the bulge in his pants.
He let out a long, shivering breath as his eyes turned to his bed. It would be comfortable, and the pillows would let him muffle anything that managed to escape his throat. It still felt desperate, but from how he had unconsciously begun to massage his groin, he decided that giving into hormones he thought he had long conquered (he was nearing middle-age, no-one should be able to turn him on so badly) wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
He discarded his shirt as he walked and once he reached his bed he removed his pants, freeing his erection. He forced himself to choke down a groan as he laid down on his back, a hand working it was slowly down his abdomen running across muscles that were trembling in anticipation, much to his disgust.
He tilted his head back and let out a long, nearly-silent sigh as he took himself in hand, a shudder working its way down his body as he began to pump himself.
Oh, Light, it was easy to conjure the memories of that one time he had been with Garrosh. He dragged the fingers of his free hand across his chest, putting just the right amount of pressure, enough to shadow the bruising ferocity of how the Mag’har’s blunt fingers traveled across his body.
His eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed hard as he remembered the taste of the orc’s blood, at how it was more earthen than his own, which mingled with it from where he had bit the inside of his cheek from hitting the ground a little too hard and at an odd angle.
His breath hitched as he recalled all the hateful whispers he had said, at how the orc had trembled and submitted beneath the litany of all the vile insults that Varian threw at him.
He could still feel how much warmer the orc’s skin was than his, at how sensitive it was despite of how rough it felt.
His hand spasmed around his cock as his body reminded him of what it felt like to be buried in the Mag’har’s body-the delicious tightness, his balls slapping against the male’s ass.
It was wrong, to have felt so good.
He fought down a moan as the sensation of having the orc in him floated to his consciousness. It shouldn’t have been as wonderful as it had been, to have Garrosh pinning him, physically forcing him into submission. He could recall exactly what it had been like to have the male pressing against him, covering him, claiming him.
He shuddered and bit the knuckle of his free hand to keep himself from voicing a lusty groan, a shiver running down his spine that made his hips buck slightly.
To see him again, to fuck him again…
He forced his breathing even, controlling his natural reaction to gasp as his ministrations sped up, his body shuddering under the remembered sensation of the orc pounding into him, of how it had hurt, but how that had only made the wrongness so much righter.
He came violently, his body arching under the release, his breath hitching as his orgasm washed over him, consuming his senses.
He knew that if there weren’t people nearby his breathing would be nowhere near as steady as he was making it.
His eyes opened to stare sullenly up at the ceiling before he sat up and looked at his cum-slick hand. He laughed quietly, bitterly.
You better be suffering too, scum, because if you aren’t, I’ll find a way to make you.