Bound to the Prince (39 page)

His hard, thick arousal rested against her
soft belly. She needed him, his full length inside her wet body,
opening her, plunging deep inside. Spreading her thighs as wide as
she could, she wrapped her legs around his muscular thighs.
Moaning, she wriggled under him until the head of his manhood was
placed against her swollen folds, already slick with wetness. The
contact made him moan while he licked his way up from her breasts
to her neck, tasting her skin. She cried out with pleasure when he
bit her like a mating wolf, a deep growl rising from his chest.

Instead of entering her, the elf suddenly
pressed his brow to hers. The gentle gesture surprised her, but at
the same time it seemed to be familiar.

Say my name, Igraine.
She heard his
voice right inside her mind.

There it was again, that strange name. Why
did he keep calling her "Igraine"? He didn't know her. And she most
definitely hadn't ever met him before.

Stay out of my head
, she thought.

She just wanted him to take her right now,
before she died from unfulfilled desire. Her body arched up against
him. But he didn’t give in to her silent pleas, just repeated his
cruel command inside of her mind.

Say my name. You know it, Igraine.

“No!” she breathed into his ear, playing
around its side with her tongue until she reached the sensitive
tip. Somehow she knew that he enjoyed this very much. He groaned
and rubbed his manhood against her heated flesh. She sensed how
much it cost him to hold back, and she smiled to herself. Her
mysterious stranger wanted to love her as desperately as she needed
him.

Say my name.

He reached down between their bodies and let
his thumb glide over her throbbing, sensitive nub. She came
instantly at the light contact, her explosion so intense that she
was drowned in a sea of darkness for a moment. When she finally
floated back to reality, she knew. She knew his name.

“Elathan,” she whispered, molding her body
against his.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. With a
single mighty thrust, he entered her. Fully embedded to the hilt,
he stopped for a moment, closing his eyes. Not only their bodies
seemed to be connected, but their souls as well, for their thoughts
spoke to each other. She thought she could remember more now, but
when she tried, the raging pain inside her head started anew. This
time, he felt it and sheltered her, sending her a fiery shot of
energy that brought back more memories, one after another.
Groaning, he began to move deep inside her female core. He grabbed
her hips so she couldn't control the rhythm of their lovemaking.
Slowly pulling back, he waited until she moaned with frustration,
sighing his name. Only then he drove himself forward again, moving
deep within her.

A scene flashed before Igraine's eyes.
His
naked body between her thighs, pressing her against a tree in a
lovely clearing.
Elathan shoved himself into her body once
more, moving deep within her, and she remembered.
His face in
the soft light of a fire while he spoke to her, his eyes directed
to a faraway place, another time.
He moved faster, the
delicious hardness of his cock stretching her inner walls. She
moaned into his hair and repeated the name that came from her lips
like a song now, filling her soul with joy.

Elathan. Elathan.

He threw back his head, moonlight hair
falling over his shoulders as he laughed, the sound so wonderful it
made her tremble. His beauty was beyond words, terrifying. His
thrusts became deeper every time she called him by his name, as if
the word carried a magic of its own. He rewarded her by riding her
harder, knowing exactly what her body yearned for. Constantly
repeating his name, her voice was hoarse with raw desire as she
moved against him, her passion equal to his.

He laughed huskily. “Insatiable wench.”

Memory after memory welled up in her, filled
her with happiness or grief, but she embraced all of them. In a
corner of her mind she realized that he was giving her his
strength, keeping the pain at bay to make her recall everything
that had been lost to her.

“I remember now, beloved,” she whispered
while their bodies moved in perfect unison. He cupped her soft
backside with his large hands and pushed her up against him, going
deeper, faster. His mouth was everywhere on her skin, marking her,
devouring her alive. The hardened peaks of her breasts rubbed
against his hot, wet skin. The heavens poured rain down on their
entangled bodies, but they didn't care. All she felt was his
overwhelming, boundless joy to hear her say his name.

His happiness warmed her soul, his desire
made her come alive. He took her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue
imitated the love play in which their bodies were engaged, sliding
in and out. They were burning, their love a flame in the night, in
the rain that couldn't quench the magic fire engulfing them.
Between kisses, he told her how much he missed her, loved her, that
he wanted to make her his queen. He promised her anything her heart
desired if she only came back home with him. Her own words were
less poetic, but she told him that she loved him, in her own and
his language, and she kept whispering his name. She cried, but she
felt his tears mingling with hers. They tasted salty on her lips
while he kissed her as no other woman had ever been kissed before,
his passion and love beyond anything a human could feel.

My love is eternal,
he whispered in
her mind.
I am yours forever, mo ghrá.

A few more slamming thrusts, then she
convulsed in a chain of spasms, more powerful than anything she had
ever experienced before. As she buried her face in his neck,
carried away by wave after wave of pure rapture, he found his
shattering release, thrusting into her like a wild beast until he
lay still, at last.

When she finally came to her senses again,
she took his face into her hands and looked up into his face,
smiling. “My love,” she whispered. “Elathan.”

He didn't answer, and she searched his eyes
to see their expression. Her heart grew cold. She saw raw lust in
their golden depths, freshly satisfied and already reawakening.
Apart from this, his eyes were wide open, and he seemed to be lost,
bewildered. Hearing his name on her lips made him look at her
questioningly. During their lovemaking, he had given her all his
strength, not asking anything in return. Now this place had taken
his own memories away. This time, she was a stranger to him.

“God help me,” she said, grabbing his
shoulders to shake him. “You forgot who I am. It’s me, Elathan.
Igraine.”

But the prince’s eyes were empty, and he
broke the contact of their bodies, drawing away. While he stood up
and towered over her, looking at their surroundings as if seeing
them for the very first time, she stayed on the leaf-covered
ground, alone and naked. A terrible feeling of solitude and
desperation hit her, and she realized that it might be too
late.

She couldn't even imagine how horrible it
would be to spend eternity on this island with him, looking into
his lifeless eyes. This fate seemed to be too cruel, now that he
had made her remember him, who she was herself and everything they
had shared in the short time given to them. Only now she understood
how much he had risked by coming after her to this island, and now
he had paid the price. Sobbing, she rose from the ground. Panic
held her in its icy grip, and she quickly picked up their clothes,
tugging them under her arm as she ran after him.

He had already left her. The prince stood at
the shore in all his naked glory, not caring about anything at all.
His magic fire that had burned so brightly only moments ago was
gone. He didn't seem to feel the receding rain on his skin, nor the
sand under his feet. Doubtless, he didn’t even remember his own
name anymore. He did not move, but simply stared into the wavering
mist that enclosed the island. She ran to him and gently placed a
hand on his arm, hoping he wouldn’t shrink back from her touch.
“Come, beloved. We have to go now, or it will be too late.”

When he didn’t move, she turned him around to
face her. “Elathan,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Don’t you
remember? I’m Igraine. Your slave, your mate, your queen, whatever
you want me to be. You came to save me. Now it’s my turn to save
you, my Prince. Come with me.”

After a long moment, something flickered in
his eyes. Igraine firmly grabbed his hand, and he followed her as
she dragged him to the elven ship that awaited them, magically
drifting on the treacherously calm water. All the way she kept
talking to him to make him stay with her, fearing that he'd release
her hand. She called him a stupid elf for following her to the
lands of the dead and risking his own soul for her, then reminded
him of their time in the caves, and of their home in the Enchanted
Forest. She told him that even if she might agree to live with him
in the palace as his queen and bear his children, she'd insist on
returning to the woods for some time every year, to a place where
he wouldn’t belong to anybody but her.

After they had left the island, it took
Elathan another hour and many of Igraine's kisses before he
remembered everything. A smile lit up his face when he finally took
her in his arms and looked down into her eyes, his golden gaze
glowing with love.

“We made it,” he said, disbelievingly. “I
thought you were lost to me forever.”

“How could you ever lose me, Sire?” Igraine
answered, caressing his face. “You ordered me to stay with you so
many times. I had no choice but to obey your command. After all, I
am bound to a prince.”

He fell down to his knees before her and took
her hand, placing a hot kiss in her palm. “On the contrary, sweet
Igraine. It is the prince who is bound, and I’ll gladly spend an
eternity serving you.”

Then he started to undress her, and as his
lips seared a path down Igraine's body, she knew that he had
already begun to fulfill his promise.

* * * * *

Dear reader,

Thank you for reading "Bound to the
Prince".

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and fun stuff -

http://deborahcourt.blogspot.com

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and other goodies.

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Yours truly,

Deborah Court

Coming soon!

Read Calatin's story - in the second book of
Deborah Court's
Elven Warrior Trilogy
.