Bound to the Prince (21 page)

This was ridiculous. He was no youngster at
the king’s court anymore, seeing a beautiful female and thinking
himself to be ‘in love’ with her. Surely it had been caused by his
shock when he found her drifting in the water, nearly dead, so soon
after he had sworn to protect her.

He had only let Igraine out of his sight for
a few moments, and she had so easily managed to run into three of
the most dangerous creatures inhabiting the forest - the water
nymphs -who didn’t cope very well with female competition,
especially when it came to him. Well, there had been a few very
enjoyable encounters with them, but it had been centuries ago. It
lay in their nature to be possessive, and he hadn’t minded until
they had tried to kill what was his. He drew back his lips into a
sneer. He would show no mercy with the surviving two nymphs if they
ever dared to cross his way again.

Igraine overcame her lethargy and began to
believe that he was real. “Elathan,” she breathed. “I thought you
were dead.” Tears still streaming over her face, she reached out to
him and touched his high forehead, feeling his scars before she
traced the length of his straight, aristocratic nose. Her
fingertips paused on his lips, feeling his warm breath that
quickened when she put a finger into his mouth to meet the tip of
his tongue. He bit her softly, so she retrieved her finger, but he
caught her hand in his and raised her palm to his lips, kissing it.
Then his tongue started to draw little circles there, a touch so
intimate she felt it running down to the most sensitive spot at the
juncture of her thighs, making her ache for him.

“Alive,” she said, closing her eyes as he
continued with his erotic game on her hand, his tongue flickering
over the sensitive inside of her wrist where her pulse was racing.
“It was only a dream. You are alive.”

“I am, woman,” he murmured as he kissed and
licked his way up along the delicate flesh of her inner arm. “And I
will prove it to you.”

Without warning her, he grabbed her around
the waist and sat up, leaning his back against the wooden wall of
the chamber. He placed her right on his lap so she straddled him.
His hands pushed up her thin chemise over her hips so her hot,
throbbing flesh brushed against his groin, hardly tamed by the
light elven fabric of his trousers. He covered her seductive
backside with both his hands and pressed her hard against him so
she felt his enormous arousal, showing her that this particular elf
was very much alive. Igraine moaned while he wrapped a handful of
her hair around his fist and pulled her head back.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and she opened her
eyes, devouring the glorious sight of him in the gloomy
chamber.

“My prince,” she whispered.

“I do not know what your nightmare was about,
but I can feel your fear, Igraine. Your dream is gone now. I am
here with you, and I forbid you to think about it anymore.”

“I can’t,” she answered softly. “It was too
real. I can still see it before my eyes.”

“Then share it with me.” He placed his hand
on the back of her neck and pulled her to him, touching her
forehead with his. Her pain shook him to the core while he explored
her thoughts, reliving what she had seen in her dream. His own
death, while she held him in her arms, drenched in his blood,
comforting him. If I were to die, I wanted to be with no one else
but her, a voice in his head whispered before he could stop it.

Her imagination was astonishing for a human;
he had never known a mortal woman with her visionary abilities. It
was possible that she was gifted with second sight. She even had
seen details not mentioned in his story, so she had found a way to
enter his mind without knowing it. He felt a spark of magic in her,
as if joining their blood had awakened something that had slept
deep inside her soul; some of his powers had clearly devolved to
her. He had not heard of such a strong bond between elf and human
before, and it fascinated him.

Determined to make her forget, he let his
strength flow into her; his mind whispering soothing words in her
head while he took away the pain that tortured her and embraced it,
making it his. Again he felt the depth of their connection. It was
more than the bond between elven master and human slave. So much
more.

Igraine felt her pain melt away, knowing that
the prince now bore it in his heart along with his own, enduring it
for her. Enough, elf, her mind told him. I am stronger than you
think. But he continued, ignoring her. She felt his skin grow
cooler against hers. It seemed that he, too, had to pay a price for
the exceptional bond they shared. A shiver ran down her spine.

She had the sudden urge to revive him, wanted
to feel alive herself again. Abruptly, she lifted her head,
breaking the mental connection between them. Before he could
command her to do otherwise, she quickly bit into the side of his
neck, grinning triumphantly when the elven warrior winced,
surprised by her, a lowly human. Then she remembered something, and
she moved her hands to his waist.

The elf took a sharp breath when she started
to tickle him, trying to escape her tormenting little fingers. But
she continued mercilessly, liking the sound of his deep chuckle.
When she started to rub her nails over his ribs, he began to laugh
aloud, the cheerful sound of his voice rumbling through the room.
She didn’t know that the trees outside rustled slightly with their
leaves. Even they were astonished by the sound of their master’s
laughter, which hadn’t been heard in this wood for centuries. It
was an expression of sheer joy, and Igraine loved it, tickling him
more earnestly now. He grabbed her arms and bent them behind her
back, holding her wrists together with his large hands so she
couldn’t reach him anymore.

For the first time she noticed that he was
leaning against a solid wooden wall. “Where are we?” she asked
breathlessly.

“I thought you’d never ask, wench. This is
our new tree-house. I made it for you,” he remarked dryly.

A wide smile spread across her face, when she
understood the meaning of his words. For you, he had said. I made
it for you. She wanted to question him about it, but then he looked
down into her face to scold her for the disrespectful manner with
which she’d treated a prince. When their eyes met, all laughter and
mocking was gone. The elf’s eyes turned darker, looking like liquid
fire now. Slowly he lowered his head and rubbed his face against
her neck, as if he wanted to leave his scent on her, to mark her as
his own. Then his dark lips took possession of her mouth and played
with her for a while, suckling and biting softly but not touching
her with his tongue. Igraine struggled to free her arms. She wanted
to touch him, feel the hard muscles under his marble skin. But the
prince grasped her wrists with only one hand now; leaving her
helpless while his other hand opened his belt and impatiently
ripped the trousers from his body. Her breath came in ragged gasps
when she felt his hot, rigid flesh against her damp folds, ready to
enter her.

As his mouth wandered deeper, leaving a
searing trail over her neck and throat, she turned her head
slightly and placed a soft, feather-light kiss on his ear. Elathan
paused and went rigid against her, a shiver running through his
tall body. Igraine wondered about his reaction, then continued to
explore his ear with her lips, gently tugging on the lobe, biting
it just a bit.
A deep groan answered her, and sharp elven teeth grazed her
shoulder in protest. His breathing seemed to be heavier now. The
elf rubbed his proud shaft against the moist, slippery cleft
between her thighs. Slowly he pulled down the chemise over her
upper arms and exposed her breasts while she licked her way up to
the pointed tip of his ear. Once there, she kissed this interesting
part of his anatomy before she sucked it between her lips,
encircling it with her tongue. He shuddered visibly.

She felt him release her wrists before he
captured her breasts in both hands to encircle their hardened tips
with his tongue, devouring her as if she was a delicious treat. As
she began to trace the contours of his ear with her tongue, he
inhaled sharply and bit hard into her shoulder now. His body
trembled under her touch, and she felt the hard pulse of his
arousal at her swollen nether lips, probing to thrust into her. She
moved very slightly to the side, not allowing him to enter. You
seem to like this very much, elf, Igraine thought, delighted by her
new discovery. He tilted his head to the side so she could reach
him more easily. Igraine moaned softly into his ear before she
caressed it with her tongue, so lightly she only tickled him.

His frustrated moan pleased her, so she
returned to suckling on the sensitive tip as long as she was able
to concentrate on it, for his fingers slid under the hem of her
thin shift and found the heat between her legs, slipping easily
between her folds. He found her already dripping wet for him and
gently stroked her tight rosebud until she moaned again. Smiling,
he entered her with his fingers, first one, then the second,
mimicking the movement of his member where she needed him most.
Aching for more, she pushed herself down on his hand, but it wasn’t
enough.

“Do you have a wish your prince could grant
you, Igraine?” he asked mockingly, but his hoarse voice betrayed
his own desire for her.

Now it was Igraine who grabbed the prince’s
hair, pulling his head roughly back. His eyes glowed like embers
now, challenging her to resist him.

“Take me,” she said. It was a command, not a
question.

“I think I did not understand you quite
clearly,” the prince answered.

“I want you to enter me, elf. I need you for
my pleasure, deep inside me.” She reached down with her free hand
and took hold of his hot flesh, making him groan when she placed
him at her wet entrance. “Do you understand me now?”

Elathan never answered. He plunged into her
so hard she screamed, taking her completely with one single stroke.
His large hands grabbed her hips and arranged her on his lap so he
could go even deeper, wrapping her legs around his hips so she sat
fully on his manhood, unable to move while he took her with mighty,
deep thrusts.

He slid his fingers into the dark mass of
curls at both sides of her temples, forcing her to look into his
eyes while he filled her to the hilt, moving up and down
mercilessly. “Oh, I understand exactly what you need, Igraine,” his
dark voice mocked her. “But can you take even more? Or is it
already too much for you, weak human?”

“More," Igraine replied stubbornly, not ready
to give up her pride. “Is this all you can do, elf?”

I really shouldn’t have said that.
The
thought flickered through her mind when she saw his eyes narrow to
slits, giving him the look of a predator who had just decided to go
for the kill. His smile was arousing and frightening at the same
time. “Never dare a prince, Igraine,” he said. Abruptly he pulled
himself out of her, leaving her with a painful feeling of
emptiness. He stretched out his hand and touched the living wooden
wall behind his back, murmuring something in his elven tongue.

Igraine gasped when she saw the two long
branches growing out of the wall, reaching down to her. They moved
around her wrists like tentacles, pulling her arms apart and high
up over her head, shackling her without a hope of escape. She was
his helpless victim now.

The elf moved the wood with his magic until
he had her in a position most desirable for him. She was hanging in
the air right over his hips so he could enter her with ease if he
stood before her, while her upper body was bent back so her breasts
were lifted invitingly to his mouth. “Oh yes,” he murmured,
watching her with a wicked grin. “I am very pleased.” Elathan
inspected her from head to toe, then raised a critical brow. “No.
There is still something that doesn’t find my favor.”

Igraine cried out with surprise when his
hands slid into the neck line of her chemise, ripping it in two
parts with one single movement. It fell to the floor in shreds.
“Damn, I will get you a new one, woman,” he said before she could
throw a regretful look at it. “Now, you will learn what it means to
be fully taken by an elf. I will not hold back this time. You
wanted it that way.”

Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed
her legs and placed them around his lean waist. Supporting her
buttocks with his large hands, he moved the tip of his throbbing
shaft towards her swollen sex, rubbing it along her damp folds,
teasing her a little until she arched her hips to take him in.

When she looked down she gasped, seeing his
huge erection pushing against her entrance. He lifted her on his
hands towards his hips because he wanted her to watch, forbidding
her to look away with a dark glance. She couldn’t avert her eyes
even if she had wanted. It was an incredible sight, the heavily
muscled warrior rising over her like a dark angel, his glorious
hair spilling over his shoulders while he tossed back his head, his
amber eyes darkened with desire.

As he slowly, slowly pressed into her hot
wetness, Igraine couldn’t hold back the primal groan that escaped
her lips. Watching his manhood as it entered her body was almost
more than she could endure. He pushed himself deep into her,
touching her womb, savoring the tight feeling before he pulled back
again.

It took him but one single, strong thrust and
she came with a scream, her satin flesh convulsing around him
violently. When he smiled, his face held an expression of male
triumph and sheer pleasure, making him move into her depths again.
He rocked against her without leaving her the time to recover, so
she climaxed a second time, growing limp in his arms.

When the prince felt the strong embrace of
her inner muscles again, he lost the self-restraint he had managed
to hold upright all the time. He buried his face between her sweet
breasts, covering them all over with small love bites until she was
unmistakably his, enjoying her sounds of lustful pain, just the
right amount to arouse without hurting her. At the same time he
slid in and out, stretching her with his thick hardness. Oh, how he
loved her agonized gasps, her husky voice as she called out his
name, pleading, demanding more.