Bound to the Prince (16 page)

When he felt that she was ready, he placed a
soft kiss on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Gliding up her
body, he positioned himself on top of her, gently urging her to
spread her legs. “Open for me, Igraine,” he commanded, his voice
soft like velvet.

She stiffened when she felt his whole length,
feeling frightened for the first time. Heavens, he was huge, larger
than any human man she had ever known. The elf was fully aroused
now, even thicker and longer than the times they had been together
intimately before. He leisurely rubbed his shaft along her moist
folds, lubricating himself. When finally she felt him pressing
against her, demanding entrance, she panicked, fearing he would
tear her apart. She wriggled her hips in a half-hearted attempt to
escape.

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 joining 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.