The moment of peace afforded me time to admire the ornate metalwork on the side of the tub. The bronze was embossed with a forest scene full of animals frolicking merrily and a hooded figure standing beside a large oak whose branches wrapped around the tub. Returning, each slave emptied steaming water into the washtub before retiring to the couch where the brunette and the auburn-haired woman had turned their amorous efforts toward Catrin. She squealed in delight as they held her down and one slipped between her thighs, pressing her mouth to the half-elf’s sex. Two more attended her nipples, one at each, suckling and nipping the tender flesh. There were enough slaves remaining to stand around bored while others prepared the bath. Standing in the damp warmth of the tent, I shifted nervously from foot to foot. I wanted to sit on Aneurin’s lap, but something told me everything I did would end up whispered back into Yorwrath’s ear.
Many believed that if you thought of a devil or demon, they would appear, and at that moment, as Yorwrath entered the tent carrying a cask, I was almost a believer myself.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Smirking, Yorwrath removed his bandanna, before taking a seat next to his brother. Oh, this will be good. He’s speaking common, I wonder what he wants me to hear. Without the crude cloth over his forehead, even with his gauntness, there was a boyishness there that they shared. It was odd to see it in Yorwrath’s eyes.
The women ushered me into the steaming bath. I could smell something heavy and earthy underneath the scent of roses wafting from the water. The scent made me hesitate for a handful of moments before I sank into the warmth.
“What do you want, Yorwrath?” Aneurin growled, his attention darting to his brother for a moment before returning to me.
“This is my collection you’re visiting. I wanted to see the sights.” He chuckled darkly as Catrin’s moans filled the room. “Lovely tits, I’m glad I was right about them. Usually, the large ones don’t seem as large out of a bodice, but not those beauties. They actually look bigger with that tiny waist…and those hips. Why is it that you get everything nice?”
Two women knelt beside the tub with a cloth and a cake of soap each. There was no sensation like being washed. It was so calming and relaxing that I melted in a sleepy haze as they caressed my body with the sweet-smelling soap. Yorwrath approached the side of the tub and held a goblet out to me.
“Drink,” he commanded. His voice seemed to echo, and the world went fish-eye. There was something in the bath. “Drink,” he repeated impatiently. I took the goblet from his hand and sipped the liquor. My gaze settled on Aneurin, who was taking a swig from the cask. I lost time. I couldn’t recall Yorwrath pouring the wine at all.
“I’d have gone willingly, sheepfuckers!” I snarled after I finished the bitter wine and tossed the cup across the room. Yorwrath laughed. The sound was distorted. I tried to keep my lids open and focus, but I couldn’t. The liquor and the herbs in the tub made concentrating impossible, and nothing looked or sounded as it should. I grabbed the side of the tub, but I couldn’t feel my fingers. All I felt was a dull pressure and the vibration of my fingers skidding across the polished bronze.
I blinked. “When I sober u—”Awe, fuck. I stopped speaking when I realized it was dark, and I wasn’t in the tent with its white silk anymore.
I stood naked at the start of a path of red roses as the moon shone full and bright overhead. Fuck me, it happened again. Elves lined the path two and three deep. Some of the men openly leered and stroked themselves as I passed. Censers hung from the trees, burning what I knew to be those potent herbs. With each step, everything seemed to matter less and less, and the impending claiming seemed to be all that mattered. My mind practically emptied of everything except for thoughts of sex, and by the time I opened the tent flap every breeze made me aware of the fact that my cleft was bare and slick with my own wetness. Still, the awareness that I would be touched in ways that would render my arousal impossible to hide almost brought me out of my haze. Almost.
The incense burning in the censers prevented me from escaping the euphoria that seemed to seep into my very being. There was no tarting it up; I was high as the treetops, and I knew it. Waiting for me in the tent, aside from more of that thick smoke, was Islwyn. He was idly nursing a chalice of wine, which he held out to me when I approached. I took the wine without a word and sipped the cool liquid, staring at him as though I were seeing him for the first time.
Normally Islwyn was beautiful, exceedingly beautiful. But with the added effects of the herbs, he was ethereal. His pale, flawless skin seemed almost to glow with some inner light, and those lovely blond curls were like tendrils of the finest gold. His irises were no longer simply blue, they had multicolored rings within them. One the color of the heart of flame nearest his pupil, the next a thick ring the same shade as the most brilliant of aquamarines, and then lastly the outer edge which was as dark as the depths of the sea. His mouth was a flawless full cupid’s bow the perfect shade of blushing pink.
Without the haze of judgment, I could appreciate Islwyn’s beauty better, and I didn’t mind as he rose to kiss me. The taste of that liquor was strong on his tongue as it thrust into my mouth. I moaned against him as he caressed my shoulders, sliding his hands to cup my breasts. His embrace was gentle, almost like the women’s had been earlier. His touch was delicate and tender, as though I was something he was afraid of breaking. Every brush of his hand was a whisper of a caress, as his thumbs gently grazed my nipples and he continued the kiss, which stifled my moans. Never before had someone been so gentle with me, and the sensations that those featherlight touches evoked made me painfully aware of how sensitive my body was. One of those strong hands left my breasts to skitter down my stomach. My hips twisted with a life of their own as though they knew what his aim was.
My lust had devoured me whole. All I cared about were those fingers sliding over my flat belly and inching ever closer to my bare, dripping-wet cleft. I could feel my pulse there between my thighs, beating a thudding, demanding rhythm as he finally reached his destination. With two fingers he traced over my slicked nether lips, and I continued to wag my hips, ever greedy for more. He stopped the kiss and stared into my face as he barely grazed the all too sensitive flesh at the top of my cleft with his thumb. My body twisted, and the moan that broke from my lips was quickly consumed by Islwyn’s mouth on mine once again.
This wasn’t what I expected. I expected something cold, something almost harsh, like a punishment. He was careful with his fingers as he stroked between my folds, but he never once penetrated me. However, he seemed to do everything but, and I felt the pleasure within me rise and my body grow tense. His kisses trailed to my throat, and he rested his forehead against my cheek for a few moments. He took his hands from my body and dropped to his knees in front of me. His gaze locked onto mine all the while, he stuck out that blushing pink tongue and licked along the delicate line of my cleft with that same maddeningly light caress of a touch. He took me right to the edge and then paused as my body began to tremble. He halfway rose from kneeling and pressed his cheek to my stomach. Those golden tresses felt softer than silk against my bare skin.
“Addas,” he whispered after a moment. His voice was shaky and barely audible. “Addas,” he repeated louder, before standing and covering his face.
With all the liquor and that incense, I had forgotten what was going on. Dropping his hands, he forced a small smile. “You have to go to Yorwrath now.” My mouth fell open, and I almost said something stupid like “I don’t want to.” Instead, I nodded slowly and continued my way along the spiral path. I could see Aneurin seated in the middle of the room. His shadow was projected on a white canvas sheet like a screen that created false walls. Pausing for a moment, I watched him as he sipped from a goblet. My chest was heaving, and my heartbeat felt incredibly quick. It took every bit of self-control I had, not to push the false wall down and join him.
When I saw Yorwrath, I stopped walking. He was sitting in a rough wooden chair drinking from a winesk
in and yet he seemed intimidating. I didn’t have the same revelation I’d had when I looked at Islwyn. No, even while intoxicated Yorwrath still looked like something dangerous. The bandanna was off and hung from the back of the chair, and for a moment, it almost looked like it dripped with blood. The rumor was that the Redcaps kept their bandannas that color by dipping them in the blood of their victims. All the ardor was zapped right from me with one look from him with his irises burning red in the dim firelight. As dangerous as he looked, however, there was still a sadness that lingered in his eyes that I hadn’t glimpsed before.
“Stand there.” He gestured to the space in front of him. I jumped at the coldness of his tone, but I expected it. He blew a hard breath out through his nose as I stood before him. Those ember irises danced over my nude form for a moment as he took another long draft from the skin. Unlike Islwyn, he didn’t offer me what he was drinking. “Spread your legs.” Grumbling the whole while, I did as I was told, but still the tone of his voice made my body tingle. “I think Islwyn went easy on you. I think he touched you like a lover.” Yorwrath smirked up at me. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Did they explain to you what happens if I declare you anaddas after Islwyn has declared you addas?”
“No.”
“Did you think to ask?” That expression of joy finally reached his eyes, but still they were sad.
“No, but I’m sure I can guess. You get to dip your wick, am I right?”
“Mhm.” The sound that rumbled in his throat was full of heat and desire. It was almost confusing.
I cupped his face and trailed my fingers along his jaw. He didn’t move, but he allowed me to tilt his chin up so his gaze met mine. I took a step toward him and pressed my forehead against his. All the boasting, all the talk, and all the horrendous actions were protecting the real Yorwrath. Sad eyes like that didn’t come from nowhere, and sad eyes on a hard man meant he had experienced loss and had the sadness beaten out of him. I pitied him. I was enraptured by Islwyn’s beauty and moved by my pity for Yorwrath. But pity wasn’t enough to welcome his touch. Accompanying the euphoria that the incense provoked and the tingle that the tone of his voice dispersed through my needy sex was a certain nervousness.
A slow breath left his lips, and he angled his mouth to claim mine…and I stepped away from him. He didn’t express his displeasure. Instead, he took a long draft from the skin again and glanced at his hands.
“Come, let me see if that cunny is fit for a Swynwr.” He gestured for me to step closer, and I did, keeping my legs splayed wide for him. He trailed the backs of his hands up my thighs. “Mmm, you are certainly a wet one, aren’t you? Here you stand with your nectar drenching your thighs. How does it feel to know that I know, regardless of what comes out of those lovely lips, that your body is aching for release?” he growled to me. And, though intoxicated, I had enough sense to slap him. “There’s my girl, I was hoping you hadn’t lost any of that fire.”
He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me down over him. He held me captive by my sable tresses, twisting his hand, forcing my cheek against his shoulder. His legs forced my ankles against the legs of the chair, trapping me against his body. Islwyn rounded the corner and froze when he saw me stretched over Yorwrath’s form. I struggled against him, which only brought a purr from his lips, as he slid his free hand down my stomach. I grabbed his wrist and stopped him, digging my nails into his forearm.
“All I have to say is one word, Valentina,” he reminded me, his voice dark and ominous. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to touch me. It was that I didn’t want him to bring me to climax, and I knew he would. And worse, I knew he wanted to.
“Fine.” I sighed with resignation, releasing my grip on him. He continued his hand’s descent, and he closed his palm over my slickened sex like he had the night before. I felt my pulse and breathing quicken once again in response to that expert pressure.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what that lovely dripping slit needs,” Yorwrath practically purred in the softest voice.
The bastard didn’t move his palm, he simply pressed it against me. My hips did all the work on their own. The reaction was automatic.
“That’s it, pretty Dy’ne. Ride me,” he said in a dark, throaty growl. His words melted my brain entirely.
I stared at Islwyn, and he stared at me as I continued my lewd dance in Yorwrath’s lap. I could feel the changes in Yorwrath’s body. His breathing turned to soft pants in my ear as I felt his erection swell under me. Islwyn’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his mouth fell slack as he watched me. What was worse… I wanted him to watch me.
“Mmm, you’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel your little heartbeat against my palm,” Yorwrath whispered with his lips to my ear as I continued to writhe against him. My body glistened with sweat as I contorted, his legs tensing to keep my ankles in place with my sex splayed wide enough for Islwyn to watch as Yorwrath did exactly what he wasn’t supposed to. He slipped two fingers inside me, and I arched back against him with a gasp.
“Yorwrath!” Islwyn barked, and Yorwrath cackled as he withdrew his hand from me.
“Addas.” Yorwrath released me completely, and I turned to the side and bit his ear. He jumped a bit but didn’t make a sound. “Oh, Valentina, I love you too,” he groaned out in a shaky breath. The worst part of it was…those words almost sounded genuine. “Now go fuck my brother.”
After releasing his ear, I stood on trembling legs and started walking through the winding canvas false walls. Islwyn trailed behind me, herding me through the censers, which increased in number the closer to the center of the maze I got.
In the middle, Aneurin sat looking anxious on a large wooden chair with an ornate forest scene carved into it. The moment he saw me he smiled, but he didn’t say anything. I almost wondered why… But then I looked around, and we were most certainly not alone. The room was filled with elves. I recognized Pwyll and Grwn, but there were others who didn’t look vaguely familiar. These were the important ones who clearly earned the right to watch me ride their king to completion. Islwyn walked up behind me, followed by Yorwrath, and each said something short in the elven language. Once they finished speaking Islwyn led me to stand before Aneurin.
Lit by the brazier, Aneurin looked like the handsome elf prince from every fairy story ever told to any little girl anywhere. He didn’t have Islwyn’s perfection, but there was something about him that made him surpass the flawless blond. His irises gleamed in the firelight. The brown was the same burning ember shade as his brother’s, and the green almost glowed with every shade ever found in a lively thriving forest canopy. They shimmered with a devious and mischievous light, as his gaze danced over my nude form. His full natural pout was pulled into a smile. I leaned forward to kiss him, and he stopped me with his fingers on my lips. Instead, he guided me to straddle his lap. There were murmurs as the circle of elves closed in on us, and Islwyn threw a fist-sized chunk of incense into the nearby brazier. Aneurin placed my hand over the ties of his trousers, and I sat back over his knees as I impatiently untied the laces and freed his already rigid member. At my lightest touch upon the pink flesh, he groaned, and his hips wagged a bit. Neither of us would last long…he was as eager as I. I looked up at him, and for a moment, my gaze caught his and he smiled at me. With a deep breath, I raised and slowly lowered myself onto his thick length. A soft cry left my lips as I felt him pierce into me. No one else in the world existed for us as I forced myself to take every inch of him. My mouth hung slack, and I was afraid to move once our hips married. In the corner of my eye, I saw Yorwrath smirking at me. My attention snapped to him and the twenty or so others who were standing around leering. My brows furrowed and my lips pursed as I watched all those faces. Someone laughed and said something that drew a chuckle from the others.
“They don’t matter,” Aneurin whispered as he ran his fingers back through my hair, and he stopped when his palms effectively blocked the others from my sight like horse blinders. We smil
ed at each other in our little cocoon of oneness and then he cackled. “Fuck tradition,” he purred as he pulled me to him for a deep kiss. He withdrew his hands from my hair and steadied me on his hips as he stood for a moment, sank to his knees and laid me on the ground.
Indignant noises sounded around us as he thrust into me and I cried out again. I heard them, but I no longer saw the gathered crowd. All I saw was Aneurin above me. I moaned loud and long as after a few seconds of slow thrusts for my sake, his assault on me gained in speed and ferocity. I felt a bit like I was being split in two by him. It was almost like that was his aim as he ate of my mouth, nipping my lips, and devouring every last sound that escaped me. Clawing at him, I ripped the fine fabric of the shirt he wore. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t last long. He guided one of my legs over his shoulder. That deep, intense angle of penetration added that much-needed friction, and three of those punishing thrusts later, I was pushed over the edge and into that hot, searing, white heat. One of my hands clawed at the ground as the other reached up and laced in his hair, tugging it, making him wince. My body quivered beneath him as he forced me to ride out my climax. It felt like my body was tearing itself to bits, as loud, animalistic screams were ripped from my throat as he practically bruised my insides. He cursed softly in his native tongue as my body milked him into ecstasy. His head hung, and he grunted loudly as I felt him explode within me. As exhausted as I was, I still used my hips to roll him over onto his back and slipped my leg from his shoulder. The crowd had long since melted away, and all I cared about was making Aneurin tremble under me as I rode him. He cursed in staccato with every undulation of my hips, as I vigorously jockeyed atop him until he stopped twitching between my folds.
Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1) Page 11