Bound to the Prince Page 13

  One moment she stood there, the next she was enclosed in his embrace. He pulled her roughly, almost violently to him, and his mouth covered hers hungrily. The touch of his tongue, boldly seeking entrance and plunging between her lips, sent a sudden wave of heat through her belly. It accumulated in the place between her thighs. It didn't take long before she felt the honeyed wetness gathering between her sensitive folds, opening her like a flower for him.

  Groaning, he threw away the blanket that covered her body. His large hands grabbed her softly rounded buttocks and lifted her up to him. Effortlessly, he wrapped her legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss while he took a few long steps forward. He tore off his clothes with one hand while he walked, then crushed her against a tree.

  Igraine moaned into his mouth when her naked back hit the trunk so hard the air was knocked out of her lungs. With a single swift movement of his hips, his thick, hard shaft entered her until his whole length was buried in her warm, wet flesh. She cried out in surprise, unable to decide if she felt pleasure or pain.

  Instinctively, she placed her palms against his muscular chest to push him away, but he sank his teeth deep into the side of her neck like a wolf, keeping her in place so she could not escape their mating. He lifted her even higher, supporting her with his strong arms, and pinned her to the tree, helplessly impaled on his rock-hard manhood that stretched and widened her. The sensation made her tremble with lust.

  Then the prince began to thrust into her, not gently this time, but with long, hard strokes, hitting her innermost core with deadly precision. He had placed her at just the right angle, so his flat stomach rubbed against her throbbing little pearl every time he moved in and out. She closed her eyes and lay her head against the rough bark of the tree, surrendering to his passion that took her away with him. The elf pounded into her mercilessly while covering her with small love bites, his tongue leaving a hot trail on her neck where his teeth hadn’t marked her.

  Igraine abandoned herself to the whirl of sensation, yielding to the searing need to become one with him. When she felt her climax rising, her body vibrating with liquid fire, the strange draining feeling claimed her again, leaving her weaker with every move of their lovemaking. But Elathan was prepared this time. Closing his eyes, he touched her forehead with his. “No, Igraine,” he commanded into her mind, fury in his voice. “Do not even think about it. Look into my eyes.”

  Igraine lifted her eyes to his face, revealing her pure, vulnerable soul to him. She saw his face, raw with passion, but his golden eyes betrayed him, too, showing her something beyond lust or desire. He couldn’t deny the pain, the loneliness that held his heart in its icy grip after ages of living in eternal darkness.

  Suddenly, she wanted to make him her own, as well. She wanted him to belong to her, with every single part of his seductive body and his beautiful old soul. Her hands wandered down over his broad back and grabbed his tight buttocks, his muscles flexing under her touch while he thrust into her. She squeezed him shortly, urging him to go deeper, and he did. Then she began to push herself down on him hard, gliding along his shaft, meeting his movements. Now she was the one in control. The elf seemed to like it, for he uttered a satisfied growl and increased his own pace.

  The moment he began to move his hips in circles while thrusting was when she came, crying out loud with sheer ecstasy. Her whole body shook so violently that she had to hold on to him with all her remaining strength. When Elathan felt her inner muscles contract around him, he went over the edge with her, giving in to his desire at last. He lost himself in her sweet embrace completely, all the while whispering endearments in his elven tongue into her ear. Although she couldn't understand his words, he told her how beautiful she was, how much she pleased him. Maybe he had said even more, but he couldn’t remember afterwards.

  After a long while, he pulled away and lifted her limp body onto his arms, carrying her back to the middle of the clearing. He wrapped her up in the blanket before he gently lay her down on the leaf-covered ground. Igraine watched him as he went to the middle of the clearing, where he had already piled up firewood this morning. She just couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

  Clad only in his glorious hair that was flowing down his back like a silvery waterfall, the elf looked like a wild, untamed creature. He walked beneath the giant trees with a natural grace that showed her he belonged to this forest. She had never seen him so much at ease with himself. His every movement revealed the pure joy of just being here. These woods were his home.

  The prince stretched out his hand, and a magic flame burst out of his palm, igniting the fire.

  Then he turned back to Igraine, who stared at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving.

  “Now I’m really hungry,” he said simply.

  Chapter 12: Water Lilies

  Igraine wandered idly along the wooded path, clutching the warm blanket around her naked body. Somehow the elven fabric managed to keep her comfortably warm from head to toe, although it looked very light and delicate. Not wishing to watch while Elathan skinned and disemboweled the dead boar, she had told him she needed a few moments of privacy. He had agreed, yet warned her not to go too far alone. “But I will always know where you are,” he had added, his amber eyes searching her face.

  He seemed to have changed since they came to this forest, dark and sinister as before but also contemplative, as if he was wondering about something. She asked herself what it was that occupied his thoughts. But he was also calmer, almost jovial – she even saw a slight smile playing on his lips from time to time. Back in the caves, he had always been alert, his body tense as if he expected an unknown enemy to attack him from out of the shadows.

  Igraine could still smell the scent of their lovemaking, his wonderfully male essence on her skin. Suddenly she had to smile. Although she loved his scent that still lingered on her body, she urgently needed a bath. Well, she wasn’t a vision of delight, covered with bruises and smeared with blood after the fight with the centaur, and she didn’t even want to imagine how her hair looked. She drew her fingers through it, feeling the dried blood and leaves that clung there.

  “What wouldn't I give for a long, hot shower!” she murmured to herself. Somehow, the forest seemed to have noticed her wish and decided to answer, for she suddenly heard the gurgling sound of water nearby. She left the path and followed it, making her way through dense undergrowth until she discovered a shadowy glade, adorned with white blossoming elder bushes. Some of them had grown to the size of small trees. Their smell was so strong it made her feel dizzy, and she staggered for a moment.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed a thicker branch of a bush, trying to regain her balance. Maybe the strenuous hunt and being loved by a passionate, demanding elf had been too much for her, after all. When she felt better and dared to open her eyes again, she gasped in wonder.

  The glade looked like a place only known from fairy tales, with a pond surrounded by reed grass and soft green moss. Little star-shaped flowers in different shades of purple grew everywhere; the calm surface of the water was nearly completely covered with blooming pink and white water lilies, their alluring scent mingling with the stronger one of the elder blossoms. The sight was so beautiful that she stood at the edge of the pool before she even noticed that her feet had moved towards it.

  The blanket slid down her shoulder and fell to the ground. Slowly she entered the pool, shivering when the cool water played around her feet. But it felt refreshing at the same time and soothed the aching muscles of her calves. She waded deeper into the pond, easing through the water lilies, brushing the leaves gently aside with her hands. After a few steps she detected that the pool was much deeper than she thought, for her feet could hardly reach the ground anymore. Igraine held her breath and dived down. Drifting weightlessly in the water was wonderful. Coming up again, she rubbed her skin as hard as she could, trying to wash off the blood and dirt as thoroughly as possible. After that, she proceeded with her hair, scrubbing her head with her fi
ngertips until her scalp hurt, but in the end it seemed to be clean enough.

  She sighed when she thought of Elathan’s luxurious assortment of soaps he kept in his cave by the lake. Smiling, she plucked one of the water lilies and started to rub the delicate petals over her face, neck and shoulders, then over her breasts, hoping the sweet scent would still cling to her body when she returned to him.

  Sinful thoughts occupied her mind. Closing her eyes, she threw back her head and remembered the hot trail his lips and tongue had left on her skin, the perfect feeling of his hardness entering her, moving, thrusting deep … A soft moan escaped her lips, and her hand glided over the sensitive side of her neck, slowly wandering down to one of her breasts, cupping her aching flesh, all the while wishing it were his long, sensitive fingers that touched her instead of her own.

  So lost was she in her dreams that she didn’t notice when the water started to move around her. At first, she didn’t feel the touch of small hands that caressed her hair, her back and sides, so light it could have been the lily flower that had fallen out of her hand, floating on the water’s surface beside her. Soft kisses rained on her face, no more but the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings on her cheeks.

  A pearly female laughter sounded close to her ear, and whispers filled the air. “She had him. I can smell him on her skin.”

  “I taste him on her face,” another voice said, sweet and high, almost like a child’s.

  “And I still feel his heat where he took her,” a third voice piped, while slender fingers trailed over her thigh, brushing slightly over the soft mound between her legs.

  Slowly, Igraine opened her eyes and looked directly into the deep, blue-green gaze of a woman. Her mind didn’t seem to function normally. She should have been frightened to death, yet she wasn’t. It was hard to think clearly, as if her thoughts were lost in a thick cloud that filled her head. Suddenly she felt sleepy and longed to return to the water's edge, just to take a little nap. Still she couldn’t resist watching the beautiful creature before her.

  It was a young woman - very young indeed, for she seemed to have just blossomed into womanhood. She was completely naked, with small soft breasts and a lithe, slender body, her skin so white that is was nearly translucent. Igraine could see a delicate net of bluish veins at the girl’s neck, even the blood pulsating near to her throat. Green tendrils of water plants were entangled in her long, auburn hair that reached down to her waist and was plastered to her wet body like a natural piece of clothing. But the girl’s eyes betrayed her outer appearance. They seemed to belong to a much older being, not innocent but glowing with wisdom and malice.

  A light touch at her shoulder made Igraine turn around. There were two other women, one on each side of her, who looked exactly like the first one. Their soft white arms encircled Igraine closely, as if they wanted to embrace her. But she could still feel how strong they were, more than mere girls should be. They were holding her imprisoned, and there was nothing she could do against it. When she struggled to free her arms, they only clung tighter to her body, making it impossible for her to move at all.

  The first girl smiled sweetly, revealing white teeth that seemed to be sharp with tiny fangs. Perfect for tearing apart the flesh of fish and little water animals, Igraine realized without knowing from where the thought had come. When she took a closer look at the woman’s neck, she saw gills behind her ears, barely visible because their color exactly matched the pale skin. She lifted a hand to caress Igraine’s cheek, and there were even tiny webs between her fingers.

  Mermaid, a voice whispered inside Igraine’s head. But the girl had perfectly human legs, so she must be something else … A water nymph, Igraine thought in wonder, so fascinated that she didn’t realize the deadly danger she was in.

  “Little sister,” the nymph said, her voice as caressing as the touch of her hand on Igraine’s cheek. “Come with us. You will forget everything that ails you, bathing in the sweet warm waters of oblivion forever. No fear, no pain, I promise. We will care for you, young one, I and my sisters. We’ll comb your beautiful hair and braid it before we lay you down on a bed of flowers at the water’s edge. The prince will find you there when he comes for you. He'll never see you fade as you grow old and weak, his desire eternal and undying. The beautiful image of your pale, still body will be engraved in his mind forever, and he'll keep it in his heart always. You will be … immortal.” The last word was but a whisper into Igraine’s ear, sending little shivers down her spine.

  Igraine felt the creatures' magic all around her, coaxing her to let go of her life without fighting against them. Just for the blink of an eye, she wondered how it would feel to sink into their white arms, allowing them to draw her down into the deep waters of the pond. But she managed to shake her head. The first nymph who had spoken hissed and narrowed her eyes.

  “No,” Igraine whispered. “I can’t. Elathan … he needs me.”

  Suddenly, the nymph’s beautiful face was contorted with hatred and fury. She drew back her lips over her sharp teeth, making her expression look almost reptilian.

  “He needs you? A human?” she shrieked, her voice not sweet but high and shrill now. Igraine felt the fingers of the nymph’s sisters dig deep into her flesh as they began to pull her down, towards the bottom of the pond.

  “He doesn’t need you,” one of the other two added, very close to Igraine’s ear. “We had him long before you were born, all three of us. He could never find pleasure in the arms of a mortal woman after being with a nymph,” she remarked cruelly.

  “Oh, we know the prince, little human,” the third one continued in a mocking tone. “He took me in every way imaginable. I had him, between my thighs, in my mouth … I will never forget how hard he is, how strong, and how he tasted when he …”

  Igraine had enough. She felt a hot rush of anger racing through her body. At the same time, an overwhelming feeling of jealousy and possessiveness took hold of her. “Stop it!” she cried out. “I don’t care if you had him ages ago, fish women. We shared our blood. He is mine now, and there is nothing you can …”

  A cold hand covered her head and pushed her under water before she had time to hold her breath. Instinctively, she gasped for air instead of closing her mouth. Cold water filled her lungs, and she began to struggle desperately against the nymphs who dragged her down, deeper and deeper, but it was in vain.

  The last thing she saw before the black water swallowed her world were his golden eyes, looking at her with concern when she had left him in the clearing. A sudden knowledge came to her, a feeling so pure, so strong she had never even imagined herself to be capable of it. But it was too late.

  I love him, a clear voice in her mind whispered before darkness embraced her. Then, as the nymphs had promised, all fear and pain was gone, and she sank down into sweet oblivion.

  * * * * *

  To Igraine’s surprise, she was not dead yet.

  She didn't see Elathan when he stormed into the glade like a flash of silvery light, his regal face a grimace of deadly fury. She didn't see him throw his lance into the dark waters of the pond, piercing the heart of the nymph who had her hand on Igraine’s head, mercilessly pushing her down with a cold smile on her delicate features while she openly enjoyed the human’s desperate struggle for breath.

  She didn't hear his voice rolling like thunder over the calm surface of the water, ordering the other two sisters to leave his forest and never return if they didn’t want to suffer the same fate, while the dying nymph’s blood gushed from the wound like a red fountain; a crimson pool forming around her and spreading over the pond. She didn't see the naked fear on their innocent faces before they took their sister, retrieved the spear from her chest and pulled her down into the depths, escaping through some underground water system to another lake or river before Elathan could end their lives, as well.

  And she didn't see him plunge deep into the pool, searching for her as she slowly drifted to the ground, her long hair floating around her he
ad like a cloud. Finally, he grabbed her arms and pulled her out to the water’s edge, where he lay her down on the soft grass. He covered her mouth with his, breathing life into her until she coughed and spat out the water that filled her lungs.

  As Igraine slowly came to her senses, she felt strong arms around her, cradling her to a muscular chest. She felt smooth skin that felt burning hot against her icy cheek, heard the quick pounding of a strong heart. A deep, melodic voice, nearly breaking with emotion, murmured words in an unknown language to her.

  “Ná faigh bás, Igraine. Ná faigh bás,” he said again and again. It sounded like a command, as if the words held a magic spell that could bring her back to life. It wasn’t necessary to know his elven tongue to understand their meaning. Do not die. He pulled her even closer, resting his chin on her head while he chanted those three words like an ancient song, rocking her back and forth like a child. His hair fell forward over his shoulders, caressing her naked body like a lover’s touch.

  The prince noticed the regular beating of her heart and the faint color that had come to her cheeks again. Before he finally fell silent, he said something else. It was but a whisper breathed into her hair, but she heard the words nevertheless. “Tá mé i ngrádh leat.” Although she didn't comprehend what he meant, all of a sudden she felt like her heart would break.

  They both realized that she shivered; he let go of her for a moment to quickly to pull off his shirt and dress her cold, wet body in it. His warmth still clung to it. Igraine sighed when his unique scent surrounded her like a caress, calming her fears. “I need to get you warm,” he said. “Let’s leave this evil place.”

  He swept her up in his arms without waiting for her approval, standing up with ease. Then she watched in awe as the elf stretched out his hand from under her body as if he expected something to be given to him. Suddenly a long root on the ground slowly wound itself around the shaft of his spear and raised it up to him, placing it into his palm. Igraine gasped and looked into his eyes questioningly. “You are a magician,” she said at last.