Bound to the Prince Page 12

  Elathan raised his head and looked at her, desire burning like a hot flame in his eyes. His strong hands moved to her hips and held her firmly in place, remaining just where he was. She buried her face against his neck, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Elathan,” she breathed, “I want you, but I don’t know if I can … You’re too large for me.”

  Tenderly, he touched her cheek and made her look into his face. Then he closed his eyes and lay his forehead against hers. His beautiful hair fell down, covering both of them. She gasped when she heard his deep, rich voice in her mind. His words seemed to caress her soul, calming her. “Have no fear,” he told her. “We were made for each other. I know you can take me. You are mine now, for all time. Surrender to me, Igraine.”

  Elathan did not move until he heard her answering “yes” in his mind, her thoughts clouded by her uncontrollable urge to have him inside her, no matter how much she feared the pain. Then, very slowly, he began to enter her.

  It took a moment before her tight flesh gave way to his pressure, allowing the tip of his manhood to slide into her body. He groaned deeply, but held perfectly still, allowing her to adjust to his size. She threw back her head, panting and moaning with lust while she adapted to him. She felt no pain, only the incredible sensation of stretching for him. The elf waited patiently, not moving at all. After a while, she grabbed his wide shoulders and pulled him closer, silently urging him to go deeper. The prince rewarded her with a smile so naughty that her heart stood still for a moment. Then he took her in his strong arms, lifting her up to him so her whole body was cradled against his. Holding her with one arm, he reached back with his free hand and grabbed her long legs, one after the other, and wrapped them around his waist.

  Igraine closed her eyes and leaned back in his close embrace, longing to be possessed by him completely. She moved her hips to let him in, but the prince prolonged the moment, pretending to retract himself from her body until she bit his shoulder, demanding that he stayed with her.

  Finally he pushed himself forward, ever so slowly. She cried out when she felt his thick, hard shaft parting her sensitive flesh, filling her until she felt she couldn’t take an inch more. The pressure was exquisite, not more than a slight pain that heightened her desire. She didn’t care anymore if he ripped her apart, as long as he finished what he had started.

  Instead of going deeper, Elathan began to move his hips in slow circles, using his manhood to widen her even more, intensifying her feeling of being stretched. Her delicious tightness was almost too much for him to bear. Heavily panting, he groaned like a wild animal, biting every part of her skin in his reach with his sharp elven teeth until her neck and upper arm were covered with little red marks. He struggled to regain his control for a while before he delved deeper.

  Just when she thought she could take no more of him, he pushed himself forward, gliding into her wet depths like a hand into a glove. She clung to him desperately, crying out with lust when he filled her to the brim. The prince moaned with pleasure and moved his hips to rub her swollen pearl, making her body shiver violently.

  They remained in this position, savoring the sensation. Igraine felt her inner muscles give way, softening to the elf’s immense size. Only then did she realize that he was fully embedded in her, pulsating with desire for her. A molten heat spread out from deep within her body, consuming her alive. His hardness widened her even more, claiming her completely so that there was no other feeling left. Her heart filled with pride. So he had been right, she really could take him. They were made for each other. Tears of joy spilled down her cheeks. For the first time in her life she felt whole.

  The elf had tilted his head to the side, searching her face with the intense gaze of his golden eyes. Her tears seemed to surprise him. It reminded her of the fact that the magnificent creature impaling her with his throbbing flesh was not human, but Fae, so unbearably beautiful but dangerous at the same time. No matter how strong he was, whatever magic he was capable of, in this moment they were one. He was hers now, and he wanted her with the same desperate desire she felt for him.

  Suddenly she wanted to tease him a bit, to wield power over him, even if only for this moment of pleasure. Slowly, she lowered her hips and pulled back from him, wishing to see how much he wanted her. The elf growled angrily, reaching for her waist to stop her, but she moved back until only the tip of his shaft was buried inside her slick channel. The sudden emptiness nearly killed her, but it made Elathan furious, his eyes glowing up with unfulfilled desire.

  He had enough. Grabbing her wrists with one strong hand, he bent her arms back behind her head, imprisoning her. Then he rested his full weight on her body, so she couldn’t move anymore. He pushed himself into her once again, plunging deep, filling her until he was buried to the hilt. Igraine cried out his name, spread her thighs wider to take him, relishing the sweet pain. She moaned with frustration when he tortured her by pulling back, leaving a strange draining feeling inside her.

  Elathan stopped just an inch away from gliding out of her. “To whom do you belong, Igraine?” he said hoarsely. “Tell me.”

  “I’m yours,” she whispered. She tried to push herself down on his shaft, but his hand held her wrists in place so she could not move.

  “Say my name. Beg me,” the elf said mercilessly.

  “Elathan, please," she sobbed breathlessly, “I need to feel you inside me.”

  He flexed his muscles like a tiger crouching ready to leap on his prey, then shoved himself up into her body fiercely, making her cry out with lust and pain. He filled her up to the hilt before he retracted, going all the way out before he pushed forward again, enjoying her lustful sobs that begged him for more.

  The sensation of her hot, tight flesh surrounding him was so sweet that he was not able to restrain himself any longer. He went deeper and deeper before pulling back, wishing nothing more but thrust into her once more until he hit the solid wall of flesh again. Feeling her pleasure was increasing his own desire more than anything he had experienced before; sliding into her moist channel, feeling her muscles tense around him nearly overwhelmed him. He knew that his elven desire was too much to endure for a mortal mind and body, knew he had to protect her as long as he had the strength to control himself. If he wasn’t careful, she would die here in his arms, worn out by the sheer pleasure of their mating.

  Igraine felt that draining sensation she had felt before growing stronger with every mighty thrust. It felt as if she was willingly giving up all her strength to feed Elathan’s seemingly insatiable desire, reviving him. It was as if she was dying happily, life slowly flowing out of her body. She felt her whole being vanish as she became a part of him, unable to describe the ravenous hunger that had her in its grip like a helpless victim. When she felt the spark of life leave her body, she was just happy to be near him, giving him pleasure.

  It was Elathan who held her close to him and pulled her back just when the black abyss tried to devour her. Again, he lowered his forehead to hers and entered her mind, sharing his strength with her. “Breathe, Igraine,” he commanded in her thoughts, his strong will not allowing her to leave. “Breathe with me. You are mine now. Don’t leave me.”

  After a moment of silence Igraine opened her eyes and looked at him, gasping for air. He captured her with his lion's eyes, forcing her to meet his gaze while he began to move inside her, slowly at first. He ordered her to breathe in once more while his length stroked her inner core, moving up until he was deeply embedded in her soft flesh. There he held still for the blink of an eye before he pulled out again, only to claim her once more. All the time he held her close to his chest, made her feel the steady beating of his heart. “Breathe,” he whispered again and again while he was moving hard and fast into her now, enjoying the sweet sound of her voice while she begged him to take her. She was writhing beneath him, uncontrollably sobbing. Alive. So alive. It filled his heart with joy.

  With one last, mighty thrust he catapulted them both over the edge, his deep voice jo
ining hers when she cried out. Her silken flesh violently contracted around him while his hot seed filled her, leaving his body along with his soul. It didn’t fly up to the heavens, but joined with hers, feeling her shuddering release. Then came the moment when her heart and mind reached out to him, longing to become one. She embraced his inner self, all that he was and ever had been.

  All at once a terrible pain took hold of his heart, and along with it came the knowledge how very nearly he had lost her. The thought of her lifeless body in his arms was more than his tortured soul could bear, and he felt an unexpected wetness on his face.

  Igraine felt his pain as if it was her own, more intense than anything a human could experience. He pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight it hurt. Igraine didn't care and hugged him back, silently crying. He buried his face in the softness of her hair to hide the tears that were staining his cheeks, but she had already seen them, colored red like his blood. She turned her face to him and kissed his tears away, one after another, silently assuring him that she was still with him, and very much alive.

  Elathan rolled on his back, pulling her on top of him so she wouldn’t have to lie on the cold ground. He held her close in his arms and placed one of his long legs over hers. Never in her whole life had she felt so warm and content, and completely protected. The prince planted a tender kiss on her lips before falling asleep instantly, their bodies still joined. Igraine smiled against his skin because he was still with her, his desire undiminished as he drifted deeper into his slumber. She cradled her head into the curve of his neck and closed her own eyes, finally at peace with herself.

  Chapter 11: The Lover

  He was gone when she awoke.

  At first she noticed only the cold, empty feeling. She was no longer being filled by him, as she had been when they had fallen asleep. Igraine stretched her back, moaning softly when she felt some pain. A frail human body didn’t seem to be made for a race through an enchanted forest and a deadly bog, hunted by a very determined elf. When she opened her eyes and looked down at herself, she detected countless bruises caused by her fight with the centaur; her neck and upper body were covered with deep red marks suspiciously reminding her of sharp elven teeth.

  Her nether regions felt swollen and sore from their mating. She hadn't yet adapted to the elf's formidable size, but the way he made love to her had been incredible. Igraine smiled. It seemed that she had a lover now, and a very passionate one. She had noticed how much it had cost him to hold back last night when her strength had faded, leaving her ready to die in his arms. It had been tempting just to let it happen. Feeling him inside her, the overwhelming ecstasy of the moment had left her nothing more to wish for. Life just couldn’t get better, so it had crossed her mind to let go, only for the blink of an eye. But he had forced her to stay with him, his old magic flowing through her soul, imprisoning her so she couldn’t leave.

  Then, the prince had cried, the red tears on his white cheeks looking like small streams of blood.

  She still couldn’t understand it, so she guessed it was part of the deep emotional bond they shared now. Maybe he had felt her inner turmoil; lust and desire so strong that it ripped her apart, too much for her human mind to bear. But it was not possible that he actually cried for her. What did he feel for her apart from his carnal needs? She was nothing more than a slave to him; albeit an honored slave, something precious he possessed and cared for. Obviously, the exotic feeling of bedding a human aroused him. He was so eager to explore her body, like a child with a new toy. But he also had made clear that she was his slave. Considering this, she simply couldn't hope ever to be more to him than a servant, a concubine. She was only a mortal woman, after all.

  Igraine smiled sadly. She had lost her illusions about love long ago. She had always been the one shedding the tears, even if she was capable of loving a man with all her heart and soul. It just seemed that she wasn’t the type of woman men adored, the type they went crazy for, risking anything just to have her. Maybe being nice and funny was a mistake, but she couldn’t change the way she was. Sure enough, the men in her life had enjoyed her company, had liked her for her sweet character and admired her for her intelligence and wit.

  But no man had really wanted her before; desired her so much that he found it hard to breathe when she was near; longing for her when she wasn’t around. Sex with Stephen had been quite good most of the time, but never like what she had shared with Elathan last night. Towards the end of their relationship, they hadn’t made love anymore. Before going to sleep, Stephen would just place a kiss on her cheek and turn away from her, leaving her lonely and miserable on her side of the bed. Now she knew that he had been finding his satisfaction elsewhere, long before he ended their engagement.

  Igraine knew that no matter what she did, she just didn’t attract love. So she would enjoy every second of the time she had been given by a merciful God to spend with Elathan. Or Goddess, she thought. If a higher power had decided to throw her into the arms of this beautiful elven warrior, then maybe God was a woman, after all!

  She had no doubt that the prince would eventually tire of her; even if they had shared their blood. It wouldn’t be long until the attraction of this new sexual experience would wear off, and Elathan would seek his pleasure with other females, human or elf, but all of them more beautiful than her. He had sworn to protect her; his honor would not allow him to do otherwise but keep his word. But her fate would be unbearably cruel. Even if he didn’t want her anymore, she was bound to him forever, forced to be near him, yearning for him but unable to touch him.

  When she moved, soft leaves rustled under her, but she also felt something soft on her back. It was a dark red blanket, made of the same fabric as her clothes, light like a feather but warm and comfortable on the skin. She assumed that Elathan had covered her with the blanket before he left, and that it had slid off her when she turned in her sleep. She asked herself if it was his saddle cloth, but it didn’t smell like horse at all. His wonderful scent still clung to it, mingled with the earthy, slightly musky fragrance of their lovemaking. Sighing, she buried her face in the blanket, inhaling deeply to keep his essence in her nostrils as long as possible.

  The clothes he had torn off her body still lay nearby on the ground, his beautiful armor dropped carelessly beside them. Small shivers of pleasure ran down her back when she thought about what had occurred between them last night. Suddenly she couldn’t just lie there and wait for his return. She had to find him.

  Igraine wrapped the blanket close around her body, thankful for the warmth it gave her. Then she slowly stood up, still feeling a bit dizzy. The light on the clearing was gloomy, indicating that night would soon fall. Obviously she'd been so exhausted that she had slept all day. Her stomach was rumbling, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since the day before. When she looked around, she found a small pile of fruit, nuts and berries he had left for her on a few young leaves, along with a slim silver flask filled with fresh water. She went down on her knees and devoured everything, not having realized until that moment how hungry she was.

  She had just finished eating when a rustle in the trees made her jump up. Quickly she grabbed her sword from the forest floor and raised it, ready to attack whatever came out of the shadows of the wood.

  A deep chuckle greeted her. “Interesting position to start a fight, human.” Elathan stepped out of the shelter of the trees, carrying a dead boar over his shoulder. He looked stunning without his usual armor, wearing only the soft, wide-sleeved shirt that was nearly open to his waist. She couldn't help staring at the alluring hollow at his throat and suddenly wished to kiss him there. His skin was gleaming, moist from the physical exertion of the hunt. The smile on his lips was devilishly naughty as he looked her up and down, apparently satisfied with the sight of her.

  Igraine lowered her gaze and gasped. She had held the fabric together over her breast with her free hand, but further down her body, the smooth fabric had parted and revealed everything t
o the prince’s eyes. Quickly she lay down her sword and covered herself, a sudden heat rushing into her cheeks.

  “I see that you have already eaten. But I am sure that you still have an appetite for something more … substantial.” Grinning, he swung the heavy boar forward over his shoulder and let it fall to the ground right before her feet, golden leaves flying up and all around. Igraine saw that an elven arrow still stuck in the dead animal’s heart.

  “Show-off,” she murmured to herself. She wanted to say that she was a vegetarian - which she wasn’t -, but the joke died on her lips as the elf came dangerously near to her. His powerful presence seemed to confuse her senses. She wasn’t able to think clearly whenever he was so close. “Where have you been?” she breathed, trying to ease the tension.

  “Before I engaged myself in hunting, I paid a visit to my old friends, the Will o' the Wisps,” he said, and there was no trace of humor left in his voice. “I think in your world they are called ‘fairy lights’. I had a little chat with them. They’ll never try to harm what is mine again, I can assure you.” With a sharp intake of breath, Igraine remembered how the little fairies had enchanted her, pretending to show her the way out of the forest. Instead, they had lured her into a deadly bog.

  Although she was a tall woman, he towered over her and made her feel delicate. She loved the thought of his strong body protecting her. He stood so near that she could have easily reached his neck with her lips, tasting him there. Instead, she lifted her chin and, looking up, dared to meet his amber gaze. The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes startled her. She could feel the heat of his body, his strength, drawing her to him like a magnet. They seemed to be frozen in time while they were standing so close together and looked into each other’s eyes. The only thing she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and the frantic beating of her heart. A delightful shiver ran through her as she moved nearer to him, drawn to his strong body like a magnet.