And then Elathan kissed her. His lips weren’t gentle, but claimed hers boldly, like the warrior he was. The prince didn’t ask for anything. He simply conquered her, took what was his. At first he pressed his lips to her mouth and ravished her almost brutally, still gripping her hair so she couldn’t escape even if she wanted. He dominated her completely, showing her that she belonged to him now. When he drew her even closer to his body, she could feel the furious beating of his strong heart, and the heat radiating from his skin.
She felt strangely weak in his arms, like a helpless prey. After a while, he opened her lips with his mouth and began to seductively explore her, tasting her sweetness with his tongue. It was amazing how wonderful his tongue felt, soft like velvet, though also slightly rougher than a human man’s did. Igraine sighed and melted into his arms, holding onto him for dear life while he kissed her wildly, again and again, delving deep into her mouth, mating with her tongue, then drawing back again, just to tease her. His kiss couldn’t be compared to any other she experienced before, so incredibly reckless, so wonderfully exotic was it. The way he tasted was sweet and sensuous, but undeniably male. Elathan’s seductive scent was all around her. She wished to wrap it around herself like a cloak, savoring his presence. Her whole world seemed to vanish, and he alone was left to fill the emptiness in her soul.
His lips touched her more softly now and then, nipping at hers, teasing her. Elathan’s hands were everywhere on her, exploring her body, marking her as his own. He caressed the back of her neck until she relaxed in his arms. Then, his fingers moved down her spine, very slowly, until they came to rest on her buttocks. He put his other hand down there, too, and grabbed her hips to press her tightly into his hard manhood. So far, she had known this expression only from romance novels, but he was throbbing with desire for her. Unable to resist, Igraine moaned and instinctively rubbed herself against his body. Elathan stiffened with passion and bit her neck for punishment, just hard enough to cause her a slight, exquisite pain. Never had she assumed that so much uncontrolled passion lay behind the prince’s cool, restrained demeanor.
Elathan continued to bite her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before he repeated the action with her upper lip. Igraine began to tremble violently. His lips and tongue did things to her she never could have imagined before. Igraine’s fingers went through his beautiful hair that cascaded over her hand like liquid gold. As she grabbed a handful of it and pulled, a shudder ran through Elathan’s body. He lost all control and kissed her like a wild animal, licking and biting her mouth while his strong warrior’s hands were everywhere on her body, grabbing her, sliding up and down her back. The elf crushed her against his muscular chest so hard she moaned into his mouth, desperately wanting to become a part of him.
Suddenly he scooped her up in his arms while he kept kissing her, again and again. Igraine was shocked that he could carry her so effortlessly. Quickly crossing the room, he carefully laid her down on the heavy wooden table at the wall. The mug and water bowl hit the earth with a loud crashing sound. Before Igraine knew what happened to her, strong fingers found their way into the neckline of her dress and ripped it in two parts with a single movement. She gasped, mortified. In bed she had been wearing nothing underneath, which now left her stark naked before him. Feeling self-conscious about her body, she hoped that he couldn't see too well in the dark, after all. He pulled his soft black shirt over his head and carelessly dropped it on the cave floor and was left wearing only his loose trousers.
Igraine didn’t have enough time to wonder what would happen next. In the blink of an eye, he covered her body fully with his own, obviously enjoying the feeling of her naked flesh against his. She loved to feel all of him, smooth skin over hard, heavy muscles. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her nipples tightening and aching for his touch. The heat of his skin threatened to burn her alive. The fact that he was a different species made the experience even more exciting, although she didn't care what he was as long as he kept kissing her like that. She cursed the darkness, wishing she could see this magnificent male in full sunlight. Sighing, she used her hands to explore his body instead, reached around his lean waist to touch the broad back she had secretly admired during their pole fight. Her fingers traced every muscle, every scar that had been left as a reminder of battles he once fought.
Elathan kissed her neck wildly, his mouth wandering deeper and deeper while he marked her skin with tiny bites of his sharp teeth. His hair fell around them like a silken curtain, caressing her arms and shoulders. When his hands finally moved to her breasts, he groaned deep in his throat while he enjoyed their full softness. There was no doubt that the prince was boldly claiming his new property. She was a slave, inferior to this immortal being. Maybe someday soon, there would be a chance to flee from this strange underground realm. But right at this moment, Igraine felt nothing but pure, intense joy. She wanted to belong to him, give herself up to the overwhelming pleasure he was causing inside her. Never in her whole life had she felt so ecstatic, so alive.
When he lowered his head and started to graze her breasts with his teeth, she screamed softly, arching her back under him. He buried his face in the cleft between, deeply inhaling her scent that was so intensive there. Then she felt his lips lightly touching one nipple, stroking, kissing, light as a feather. She pushed herself up against his mouth, wanting more. Softly laughing, he leisurely continued his sweet torture. Unable to stand it anymore, she let a moan of frustration escape her lips.
The prince circled her with his tongue before he suddenly sucked her into his mouth so hard that it almost hurt, then all at once released her and caressed her with his lips again. Igraine wriggled under him, demanding more. But Elathan left no doubt that he was the one in control. He played her like an instrument as he pleased, no matter how urgently her body begged him to spread her thighs and succumb to her needs. Very slowly he repeated his little game with her other breast.
By now she was hot and dripping wet, ready to take him. She rubbed against the hardness of his manhood, wishing nothing more than to have him inside of her. When she reached for his trousers, he stopped her, grabbing her wrist.
“Beg me,” he said, breathing heavily in the darkness.
Igraine moaned, shamelessly opening her legs for him. His hand traveled deeper, over her belly, right down to the place where she needed him so much. She screamed when he touched her gently, opening the soft swollen lips with his long fingers, stroking, exploring. He found the little pearl hidden between the wet folds and caressed it ever so slowly, making her heart stop for a moment before she began to shake violently. Then he let one finger slide into her, probing her. Igraine lifted herself up from the table to meet his hand. Elathan chuckled deeply. “You are ready for me,” he said. “Beg me, wench, and I might give you what you need.”
Igraine didn’t give a damn about her pride right now. “Please,” she breathed desperately, “please…“ She nearly spoke out his name, but became aware that he had forbidden it. “Master. Take me.”
Elathan moved so quickly she couldn’t sense him coming to her. His trousers suddenly gone, he pressed his hard shaft to her moist, aching womanhood. Igraine threw her head back, sighing with pleasure when she felt him pulsating against her wetness. And he was huge, probably too much for her body to take. But she didn’t care if he ripped her apart, as long as he loved her right now.
She waited for him to enter her. To her surprise, the elf took hold of her hips with both hands and pushed her down on the hard table so she couldn’t lift her lower body to meet him. Slowly rubbing his arousal up and down between her silken folds, he caressed her tiny pearl every time he moved until both of them groaned with desire. Igraine buried her face into his neck, kissing and licking the delicious notch she had tasted before at the base of his throat. It made him ride her even faster, playing her body with expert knowledge until she ran her nails down his back, whimpering for more. Tears of frustration streamed over her face. The only thing she wan
ted was to have him inside her body, filling her painful emptiness.
But he continued mercilessly, sliding up and down, up and down again, always stopping at the brink of her release. Just when Igraine thought she could take no more, tiny stars exploded behind her eyes. Crying out, she was lifted up into the heavens, flying, before she slowly drifted back into reality. Elathan held her tight in his arms, whispering soothing words in his elven tongue to her. She hardly noticed that the prince had not found his own relief. Her entire body was still shaking with aftershocks, trembling violently.
Elathan picked up her limp, naked body and carried her back through the cave to her bed, gently laying her down. Igraine was so exhausted that she drifted into sleep almost instantly. The last thing she heard was Elathan’s deep voice speaking to her.
“Sleep well, human. On the morrow you will continue your training, but you'll also learn how to serve your prince properly. You will be allowed to enter my chambers for the first time. I want you to bathe me.”
Chapter 6: The Prince by the Lake
The next morning brought not only a very hard training for Igraine, but an even harder one for Elathan. As the prince introduced Igraine into the basics of sword fighting, it was nearly unbearable for him to hold back. He simply wanted to grab her and pin her against the wall with his body. The mere thought of entering her, thrusting into her welcoming depths made him harden with desire. To keep himself distracted, Elathan had already spent several hours in another cave, running and jumping, whirling his sword and spear around until he knelt on the floor, totally exhausted.
His muscular chest gleamed with sweat while he breathed heavily, trying to regain some strength. When he bowed his head and closed his eyes, his moist long hair fell forward over his face and shoulders until it nearly touched the floor. He groaned as he realized that even the hardest physical exercise had not succeeded in diverting his thoughts from the human. Igraine. He whispered her name, testing how it sounded on his tongue. It felt like a sensual sigh.
Damn. What had she done to him? He hadn’t been able to stay away from her. Every night he was lying awake in his huge four-poster bed, oversensitive to the soft caress of the black silken sheets on his heated skin. He couldn’t help but think about the angry, rebellious look on her face when she had attacked him, or about the fact that she wanted him to take her. Oh yes, she’d tried to hide it from him, but she just couldn’t hold back the passion he saw in her eyes. They were such a lovely, deep green that he thought of his forest in the spring, when young leaves grew on the newly-revived trees.
Somebody, probably a human lover, had hurt her so badly he sometimes could feel her intense pain. It tugged at his heart. He didn’t want to feel this, especially not for a filthy human. Especially not for this particular human with her voluptuous body and soft wavy hair that fell like a dark cloud over her shoulders when she moved. To be honest, she wasn't even filthy. Her fresh, sweet scent drove him crazy with need. But she didn’t consider herself beautiful. Were the men of her world dumb and blind? How could the one that had hurt her have ever considered letting such a precious jewel go?
Elathan had intentionally brought her clothes that were a little too tight for her, so he could secretly admire her curves. He wondered if she had noticed, but her body had changed, becoming stronger every day. It was not only caused by the spartan food and hard training, but also by the ancient magic that permeated these underground caverns. Since the mortal woman had ceased to despise herself, her body had begun to change, adapting to the way she thought of herself while her soul gradually healed.
Since his youth, a very long time ago, Elathan had been a warrior, and everything he ever touched was hard and cold - the shining steel of his sword, his heavy armor, the walls of these caves he now called his home. In his youth, he had slept on the bare stone floor of his father’s stronghold ever since he had reached the age to be trained as an elven knight. This was deemed to prepare the youngsters for the strenuous times of war lying ahead. They shouldn’t grow up as weaklings. Even the bodies of the elven women throwing themselves at the prince were not soft but slim and flexible, almost too breakable. They fulfilled his carnal needs whenever he wished to be satisfied, but he had never really desired one of them.
Nobody knew that the prince had a secret passion for soft things. He’d loved to roll around in the golden autumn leaves covering the forest floor when he was young, laughing with glee, but only if he was sure that nobody watched him. King Bres would have personally whipped his son to near death had he seen the prince’s undignified behavior. Elathan liked to caress a horse’s velvety nose, to touch rose petals with his lips. He loved to hold out his finger for a butterfly to rest, tickling his skin with its delicate wings.
But all these simple pleasures had been lost for him when he went into exile so long ago. Long before the Devil's Society claimed these caves for themselves, the trolls had carved the chambers out of the womb of the earth. The world was still young and at peace then. Later, the trolls had moved deeper down into the underground tunnels, never to emerge to the surface again. They, too, were tired of fighting the treacherous humans who threatened to destroy their underground realm.
A vibrant trade relationship had been established between trolls and elves. They gave the elves everything they took out of the earth – gold, silver, diamonds, magically enhanced stone to build their strongholds, the secret knowledge of making steel. In return they wanted the lovely things the elves created with their skillful hands, clothes woven from pixie dust so smooth you couldn’t feel them on your body, fine jewellery and pottery, and the small shiny gadgets and trinkets they liked so much. For there was one thing the trolls desired more than everything else - beauty.
So somehow this place, cold and barren as it was, seemed to enhance beauty with its old magic. Elathan could see it clearly happening whenever he looked at Igraine. Not that she needed it, but now she was so stunning that she made him think of a shining star illuminating the night whenever he saw her. She didn’t know that he had entered her chamber every night since she was here, watching her while she slept so peacefully on her bed, curled up on her side like a child. His sharp elven eyes had adjusted to this eternal darkness long ago, so he didn’t need a candle to see her delicate features, closed eyelids with long dark lashes lying against her cheeks, her slightly perky nose and her lush, sensual lips. Now and then he had smoothed a lock from her brow, feeling its softness.
Soft. Damn, she was so soft. He just wanted to lie down with her on the pallet and wrap himself around her warm body while she looked so relaxed in her sleep. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and breathe in her sweet scent, close his eyes and find peace for a while.
Last night, Elathan just had entered her chamber, when to his surprise the woman woke up. He was positive that he had not made a sound, but she somehow seemed to sense his presence. As she stood there in the deep darkness without seeing anything, he clearly saw her fear. But he couldn’t help but admire her courage when she waited so calmly for her invisible enemy to attack.
As he felt his heart beating faster with a strange, disconcerting pride, his feelings suddenly turned to blind rage. It was directed at himself, for being far too much attracted to this woman. After all, she represented the race he was determined to hunt down and destroy whenever he could.
He approached her, frightened her to death when he showed her the contempt and disgust he felt for her kind. For a moment he had considered killing her right on the spot, to rid himself of the dangerous weakness she had awakened in him. Although she was terrified, he realized how aroused she was by his touch, how much she wanted him, how desperately. It was not only sexual desire. Her soul seemed to reach out to him, begging him to make her a part of him.
It had felt incredible to kiss her, as if his heart cried out with joy for the first time in centuries. When he couldn’t help himself from further exploring her body, he had felt like he was her slave now, overwhelmed by the raw lust in her eyes, her
soft moans and cries. The feeling of her wet, naked flesh against his manhood turned him into a reckless animal, rubbing against her until she came for him, holding her close while she writhed beneath him.
Instead of seeking his own release, he quickly left her. If he went any further now, he would not have been gentle. His need for her was so overwhelming that he would have taken her life, along with her willing body. It made him painfully aware of the loneliness that tormented him since he had come here, to this dark and hopeless place. He had fought very long and hard to build up the walls that protected his heart from further pain, and he would not allow a mere mortal to tear them down. Even if it meant killing her.
But for now, he found no reason why he shouldn’t amuse himself with her desirable body until she was ready to take him without dying from exhaustion as a result. And even if she didn’t survive, Elathan would make sure that she enjoyed herself so much that she wouldn’t care about dying at all.
Before leaving after their sword training that day, the prince had told Igraine to come to his chambers later, giving her exact directions. As she went through the dark tunnels, she couldn’t stop the frantic beating of her heart.
Elathan. He wanted her to bathe him.
She looked down at herself, trying to smooth the wrinkles in her dress with her hands. If she only had something decent to wear! Incredible as it was, she seemed to have lost weight again. But she didn’t believe for a second that Elathan might find her attractive, even if he used her to satisfy his body’s needs. She had nothing that could compare with his otherworldly beauty. Although she hadn’t seen other elven men, she was certain that he was unique amongst his kind.
Bound to the Prince Page 6