When you go faster, it makes you go higher. When you go higher, you slow down. When you slow down, it makes you go lower. When you go lower, you speed up.
For a concrete example, consider a Hohmann transfer orbit, a simple and efficient way to get from one orbit to another. You start off in a low, fast circular orbit (say, the orbit of Earth around the Sun) and want to get into a higher, slower circular orbit (say, Mars around the Sun).
First, from your low orbit, you fire your engines to increase your speed (we’ll approximate this process as instantaneous). This changes your orbit from the original circular orbit, to an elliptical orbit. The closest point of the ellipse to the Sun is tangent to your original orbit, and the furthest point is tangent to the orbit you’re trying to get to.
Then, you go halfway around this ellipse, to the furthest point. During this time, you’re not firing your engines at all: You’re just in a freefall orbit, with Mr. Newton in the driver’s seat. Because you’re going uphill all this time, you’re slowing down.
When you reach the furthest point of the elliptical orbit, you fire your engines again, to speed up again. This changes your orbit again: The high point of your orbit stays the same, but you’re moving the low point up to match it, so you’re again in a circular orbit, further out from your original orbit. And even though, both times you fired your rocket, it was to speed you up, that’s more than made up for by the slowing down during the long coasting phase in between, so your final orbit ends up being slower than your original one.