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.
But no man had really wanted her before; desired her so much that he found it hard to breathe when she was near; longing for her when she wasn’t around. Sex with Stephen had been quite good most of the time, but never like what she had shared with Elathan last night. Towards the end of their relationship, they hadn’t made love anymore. Before going to sleep, Stephen would just place a kiss on her cheek and turn away from her, leaving her lonely and miserable on her side of the bed. Now she knew that he had been finding his satisfaction elsewhere, long before he ended their engagement.
Igraine knew that no matter what she did, she just didn’t attract love. So she would enjoy every second of the time she had been given by a merciful God to spend with Elathan. Or Goddess, she thought. If a higher power had decided to throw her into the arms of this beautiful elven warrior, then maybe God was a woman, after all!
She had no doubt that the prince would eventually tire of her; even if they had shared their blood. It wouldn’t be long until the attraction of this new sexual experience would wear off, and Elathan would seek his pleasure with other females, human or elf, but all of them more beautiful than her. He had sworn to protect her; his honor would not allow him to do otherwise but keep his word. But her fate would be unbearably cruel. Even if he didn’t want her anymore, she was bound to him forever, forced to be near him, yearning for him but unable to touch him.
When she moved, soft leaves rustled under her, but she also felt something soft on her back. It was a dark red blanket, made of the same fabric as her clothes, light like a feather but warm and comfortable on the skin. She assumed that Elathan had covered her with the blanket before he left, and that it had slid off her when she turned in her sleep. She asked herself if it was his saddle cloth, but it didn’t smell like horse at all. His wonderful scent still clung to it, mingled with the earthy, slightly musky fragrance of their lovemaking. Sighing, she buried her face in the blanket, inhaling deeply to keep his essence in her nostrils as long as possible.
The clothes he had torn off her body still lay nearby on the ground, his beautiful armor dropped carelessly beside them. Small shivers of pleasure ran down her back when she thought about what had occurred between them last night. Suddenly she couldn’t just lie there and wait for his return. She had to find him.
Igraine wrapped the blanket close around her body, thankful for the warmth it gave her. Then she slowly stood up, still feeling a bit dizzy. The light on the clearing was gloomy, indicating that night would soon fall. Obviously she'd been so exhausted that she had slept all day. Her stomach was rumbling, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since the day before. When she looked around, she found a small pile of fruit, nuts and berries he had left for her on a few young leaves, along with a slim silver flask filled with fresh water. She went down on her knees and devoured everything, not having realized until that moment how hungry she was.
She had just finished eating when a rustle in the trees made her jump up. Quickly she grabbed her sword from the forest floor and raised it, ready to attack whatever came out of the shadows of the wood.
A deep chuckle greeted her. “Interesting position to start a fight, human.” Elathan stepped out of the shelter of the trees, carrying a dead boar over his shoulder. He looked stunning without his usual armor, wearing only the soft, wide-sleeved shirt that was nearly open to his waist. She couldn't help staring at the alluring hollow at his throat and suddenly wished to kiss him there. His skin was gleaming, moist from the physical exertion of the hunt. The smile on his lips was devilishly naughty as he looked her up and down, apparently satisfied with the sight of her.
Igraine lowered her gaze and gasped. She had held the fabric together over her breast with her free hand, but further down her body, the smooth fabric had parted and revealed everything to the prince’s eyes. Quickly she lay down her sword and covered herself, a sudden heat rushing into her cheeks.
“I see that you have already eaten. But I am sure that you still have an appetite for something more … substantial.” Grinning, he swung the heavy boar forward over his shoulder and let it fall to the ground right before her feet, golden leaves flying up and all around. Igraine saw that an elven arrow still stuck in the dead animal’s heart.
“Show-off,” she murmured to herself. She wanted to say that she was a vegetarian - which she wasn’t -, but the joke died on her lips as the elf came dangerously near to her. His powerful presence seemed to confuse her senses. She wasn’t able to think clearly whenever he was so close. “Where have you been?” she breathed, trying to ease the tension.
“Before I engaged myself in hunting, I paid a visit to my old friends, the Will o' the Wisps,” he said, and there was no trace of humor left in his voice. “I think in your world they are called ‘fairy lights’. I had a little chat with them. They’ll never try to harm what is mine again, I can assure you.” With a sharp intake of breath, Igraine remembered how the little fairies had enchanted her, pretending to show her the way out of the forest. Instead, they had lured her into a deadly bog.
Although she was a tall woman, he towered over her and made her feel delicate. She loved the thought of his strong body protecting her. He stood so near that she could have easily reached his neck with her lips, tasting him there. Instead, she lifted her chin and, looking up, dared to meet his amber gaze. The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes startled her. She could feel the heat of his body, his strength, drawing her to him like a magnet. They seemed to be frozen in time while they were standing so close together and looked into each other’s eyes. The only thing she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and the frantic beating of her heart. A delightful shiver ran through her as she moved nearer to him, drawn to his strong body like a magnet.
One moment she stood there, the next she was enclosed in his embrace. He pulled her roughly, almost violently to him, and his mouth covered hers hungrily. The touch of his tongue, boldly seeking entrance and plunging between her lips, sent a sudden wave of heat through her belly. It accumulated in the place between her thighs. It didn't take long before she felt the honeyed wetness gathering between her sensitive folds, opening her like a flower for him.
Groaning, he threw away the blanket that covered her body. His large hands grabbed her softly rounded buttocks and lifted her up to him. Effortlessly, he wrapped her legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss while he took a few long steps forward. He tore off his clothes with one hand while he walked, then crushed her against a tree.
Igraine moaned into his mouth when her naked back hit the trunk so hard the air was knocked out of her lungs. With a single swift movement of his hips, his thick, hard shaft entered her until his whole length was buried in her warm, wet flesh. She cried out in surprise, unable to decide if she felt pleasure or pain.
Instinctively, she placed her palms against his muscular chest to push him away, but he sank his teeth deep into the side of her neck like a wolf, keeping her in place so she could not escape their mating. He lifted her even higher, supporting her with his strong arms, and pinned her to the tree, helplessly impaled on his rock-hard manhood that stretched and widened her. The sensation made her tremble with lust.
Then the prince began to thrust into her, not gently this time, but with long, hard strokes, hitting her innermost core with deadly precision. He had placed her at just the right angle, so his flat stomach rubbed against her throbbing little pearl every time he moved in and out. She closed her eyes and lay her head against the rough bark of the tree, surrendering to his passion that took her away with him. The elf pounded into her mercilessly while covering her with small love bites, his tongue leaving a hot trail on her neck where his teeth hadn’t marked her.
Igraine abandoned herself to the whirl of sensation, yielding to the searing need to become one with him. When she felt her climax rising, her body vibrating with liquid fire, the strange draining feeling claimed her again, leaving her weaker with every move of their lovemaking. But Elathan was prepared this time. Closing his eyes, he touched her forehead with his. “No, Igraine,” he commanded into her mind, fury in his voice. “Do not even think about it. Look into my eyes.”
Igraine lifted her eyes to his face, revealing her pure, vulnerable soul to him. She saw his face, raw with passion, but his golden eyes betrayed him, too, showing her something beyond lust or desire. He couldn’t deny the pain, the loneliness that held his heart in its icy grip after ages of living in eternal darkness.
Suddenly, she wanted to make him her own, as well. She wanted him to belong to her, with every single part of his seductive body and his beautiful old soul. Her hands wandered down over his broad back and grabbed his tight buttocks, his muscles flexing under her touch while he thrust into her. She squeezed him shortly, urging him to go deeper, and he did. Then she began to push herself down on him hard, gliding along his shaft, meeting his movements. Now she was the one in control. The elf seemed to like it, for he uttered a satisfied growl and increased his own pace.
The moment he began to move his hips in circles while thrusting was when she came, crying out loud with sheer ecstasy. Her whole body shook so violently that she had to hold on to him with all her remaining strength. When Elathan felt her inner muscles contract around him, he went over the edge with her, giving in to his desire at last. He lost himself in her sweet embrace completely, all the while whispering endearments in his elven tongue into her ear. Although she couldn't understand his words, he told her how beautiful she was, how much she pleased him. Maybe he had said even more, but he couldn’t remember afterwards.
After a long while, he pulled away and lifted her limp body onto his arms, carrying her back to the middle of the clearing. He wrapped her up in the blanket before he gently lay her down on the leaf-covered ground. Igraine watched him as he went to the middle of the clearing, where he had already piled up firewood this morning. She just couldn't tear her eyes away from him.
Clad only in his glorious hair that was flowing down his back like a silvery waterfall, the elf looked like a wild, untamed creature. He walked beneath the giant trees with a natural grace that showed her he belonged to this forest. She had never seen him so much at ease with himself. His every movement revealed the pure joy of just being here. These woods were his home.
The prince stretched out his hand, and a magic flame burst out of his palm, igniting the fire.
Then he turned back to Igraine, who stared at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving.
“Now I’m really hungry,” he said simply.