Chapter 14: Bound
Darkness surrounded her. It was a comforting, merciful darkness, making her blind so she couldn’t see his empty eyes, staring lifelessly over her shoulder while she held him. Still entangled in her dream, she realized that his weight was gone now, and she didn’t feel him leaning heavily on her body anymore. She had lost him.
Igraine sensed that she was lying on a soft surface, but when she tried to sit up something hindered her, forcing her to stay down. She began to struggle against the unknown presence that held her imprisoned, crying helplessly like a child while the pain washed over her like a wave. But then she felt the warmth of the strong arms that were holding her pinned to the ground, pulling her backwards until she lay molded to a large male body. A deep low voice murmured soothing words into her ear. Although she didn’t understand their meaning, they calmed her, and she lay still at least, sobbing.
“Wake up, Igraine,” Elathan said. Hugging her close, he turned her gently in his arms until she faced him. “I am here. Look at me.” He felt her unbearable pain, her fear, but didn’t know the reason. A simple nightmare would never cause this amount of distress.
Reluctantly she opened her eyes, unable to say if she was still dreaming. It was impossible. He had just died in her arms, she had been with him until the end. But it was his voice, his scent, his body, so warm and alive. “Come back to me, mo ghrá.”
My love. He had used the endearment without thinking about it. But why? She was only a human slave, even if they had shared their blood. They were as close as elf and human could ever get. Usually a royal prince chose a female amongst his elven peers. He should not even think about her unless he needed her body to satisfy his carnal needs. Suddenly he remembered his words when he had found her half-dead in the pond, murmuring that he loved her.
This was ridiculous. He was no youngster at the king’s court anymore, seeing a beautiful female and thinking himself to be ‘in love’ with her. Surely it had been caused by his shock when he found her drifting in the water, nearly dead, so soon after he had sworn to protect her.
He had only let Igraine out of his sight for a few moments, and she had so easily managed to run into three of the most dangerous creatures inhabiting the forest - the water nymphs -who didn’t cope very well with female competition, especially when it came to him. Well, there had been a few very enjoyable encounters with them, but it had been centuries ago. It lay in their nature to be possessive, and he hadn’t minded until they had tried to kill what was his. He drew back his lips into a sneer. He would show no mercy with the surviving two nymphs if they ever dared to cross his way again.
Igraine overcame her lethargy and began to believe that he was real. “Elathan,” she breathed. “I thought you were dead.” Tears still streaming over her face, she reached out to him and touched his high forehead, feeling his scars before she traced the length of his straight, aristocratic nose. Her fingertips paused on his lips, feeling his warm breath that quickened when she put a finger into his mouth to meet the tip of his tongue. He bit her softly, so she retrieved her finger, but he caught her hand in his and raised her palm to his lips, kissing it. Then his tongue started to draw little circles there, a touch so intimate she felt it running down to the most sensitive spot at the juncture of her thighs, making her ache for him.
“Alive,” she said, closing her eyes as he continued with his erotic game on her hand, his tongue flickering over the sensitive inside of her wrist where her pulse was racing. “It was only a dream. You are alive.”
“I am, woman,” he murmured as he kissed and licked his way up along the delicate flesh of her inner arm. “And I will prove it to you.”
Without warning her, he grabbed her around the waist and sat up, leaning his back against the wooden wall of the chamber. He placed her right on his lap so she straddled him. His hands pushed up her thin chemise over her hips so her hot, throbbing flesh brushed against his groin, hardly tamed by the light elven fabric of his trousers. He covered her seductive backside with both his hands and pressed her hard against him so she felt his enormous arousal, showing her that this particular elf was very much alive. Igraine moaned while he wrapped a handful of her hair around his fist and pulled her head back.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and she opened her eyes, devouring the glorious sight of him in the gloomy chamber.
“My prince,” she whispered.
“I do not know what your nightmare was about, but I can feel your fear, Igraine. Your dream is gone now. I am here with you, and I forbid you to think about it anymore.”
“I can’t,” she answered softly. “It was too real. I can still see it before my eyes.”
“Then share it with me.” He placed his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her to him, touching her forehead with his. Her pain shook him to the core while he explored her thoughts, reliving what she had seen in her dream. His own death, while she held him in her arms, drenched in his blood, comforting him. If I were to die, I wanted to be with no one else but her, a voice in his head whispered before he could stop it.
Her imagination was astonishing for a human; he had never known a mortal woman with her visionary abilities. It was possible that she was gifted with second sight. She even had seen details not mentioned in his story, so she had found a way to enter his mind without knowing it. He felt a spark of magic in her, as if joining their blood had awakened something that had slept deep inside her soul; some of his powers had clearly devolved to her. He had not heard of such a strong bond between elf and human before, and it fascinated him.
Determined to make her forget, he let his strength flow into her; his mind whispering soothing words in her head while he took away the pain that tortured her and embraced it, making it his. Again he felt the depth of their connection. It was more than the bond between elven master and human slave. So much more.
Igraine felt her pain melt away, knowing that the prince now bore it in his heart along with his own, enduring it for her. Enough, elf, her mind told him. I am stronger than you think. But he continued, ignoring her. She felt his skin grow cooler against hers. It seemed that he, too, had to pay a price for the exceptional bond they shared. A shiver ran down her spine.
She had the sudden urge to revive him, wanted to feel alive herself again. Abruptly, she lifted her head, breaking the mental connection between them. Before he could command her to do otherwise, she quickly bit into the side of his neck, grinning triumphantly when the elven warrior winced, surprised by her, a lowly human. Then she remembered something, and she moved her hands to his waist.
The elf took a sharp breath when she started to tickle him, trying to escape her tormenting little fingers. But she continued mercilessly, liking the sound of his deep chuckle. When she started to rub her nails over his ribs, he began to laugh aloud, the cheerful sound of his voice rumbling through the room. She didn’t know that the trees outside rustled slightly with their leaves. Even they were astonished by the sound of their master’s laughter, which hadn’t been heard in this wood for centuries. It was an expression of sheer joy, and Igraine loved it, tickling him more earnestly now. He grabbed her arms and bent them behind her back, holding her wrists together with his large hands so she couldn’t reach him anymore.
For the first time she noticed that he was leaning against a solid wooden wall. “Where are we?” she asked breathlessly.
“I thought you’d never ask, wench. This is our new tree-house. I made it for you,” he remarked dryly.
A wide smile spread across her face, when she understood the meaning of his words. For you, he had said. I made it for you. She wanted to question him about it, but then he looked down into her face to scold her for the disrespectful manner with which she’d treated a prince. When their eyes met, all laughter and mocking was gone. The elf’s eyes turned darker, looking like liquid fire now. Slowly he lowered his head and rubbed his face against her neck, as if he wanted to leave his scent on her, to mark her as his own. Then his dark lips took possession of her mouth and played with her for a while, suckling and biting softly but not touching her with his tongue. Igraine struggled to free her arms. She wanted to touch him, feel the hard muscles under his marble skin. But the prince grasped her wrists with only one hand now; leaving her helpless while his other hand opened his belt and impatiently ripped the trousers from his body. Her breath came in ragged gasps when she felt his hot, rigid flesh against her damp folds, ready to enter her.
As his mouth wandered deeper, leaving a searing trail over her neck and throat, she turned her head slightly and placed a soft, feather-light kiss on his ear. Elathan paused and went rigid against her, a shiver running through his tall body. Igraine wondered about his reaction, then continued to explore his ear with her lips, gently tugging on the lobe, biting it just a bit.
A deep groan answered her, and sharp elven teeth grazed her shoulder in protest. His breathing seemed to be heavier now. The elf rubbed his proud shaft against the moist, slippery cleft between her thighs. Slowly he pulled down the chemise over her upper arms and exposed her breasts while she licked her way up to the pointed tip of his ear. Once there, she kissed this interesting part of his anatomy before she sucked it between her lips, encircling it with her tongue. He shuddered visibly.
She felt him release her wrists before he captured her breasts in both hands to encircle their hardened tips with his tongue, devouring her as if she was a delicious treat. As she began to trace the contours of his ear with her tongue, he inhaled sharply and bit hard into her shoulder now. His body trembled under her touch, and she felt the hard pulse of his arousal at her swollen nether lips, probing to thrust into her. She moved very slightly to the side, not allowing him to enter. You seem to like this very much, elf, Igraine thought, delighted by her new discovery. He tilted his head to the side so she could reach him more easily. Igraine moaned softly into his ear before she caressed it with her tongue, so lightly she only tickled him.
His frustrated moan pleased her, so she returned to suckling on the sensitive tip as long as she was able to concentrate on it, for his fingers slid under the hem of her thin shift and found the heat between her legs, slipping easily between her folds. He found her already dripping wet for him and gently stroked her tight rosebud until she moaned again. Smiling, he entered her with his fingers, first one, then the second, mimicking the movement of his member where she needed him most. Aching for more, she pushed herself down on his hand, but it wasn’t enough.
“Do you have a wish your prince could grant you, Igraine?” he asked mockingly, but his hoarse voice betrayed his own desire for her.
Now it was Igraine who grabbed the prince’s hair, pulling his head roughly back. His eyes glowed like embers now, challenging her to resist him.
“Take me,” she said. It was a command, not a question.
“I think I did not understand you quite clearly,” the prince answered.
“I want you to enter me, elf. I need you for my pleasure, deep inside me.” She reached down with her free hand and took hold of his hot flesh, making him groan when she placed him at her wet entrance. “Do you understand me now?”
Elathan never answered. He plunged into her so hard she screamed, taking her completely with one single stroke. His large hands grabbed her hips and arranged her on his lap so he could go even deeper, wrapping her legs around his hips so she sat fully on his manhood, unable to move while he took her with mighty, deep thrusts.
He slid his fingers into the dark mass of curls at both sides of her temples, forcing her to look into his eyes while he filled her to the hilt, moving up and down mercilessly. “Oh, I understand exactly what you need, Igraine,” his dark voice mocked her. “But can you take even more? Or is it already too much for you, weak human?”
“More," Igraine replied stubbornly, not ready to give up her pride. “Is this all you can do, elf?”
I really shouldn’t have said that. The thought flickered through her mind when she saw his eyes narrow to slits, giving him the look of a predator who had just decided to go for the kill. His smile was arousing and frightening at the same time. “Never dare a prince, Igraine,” he said. Abruptly he pulled himself out of her, leaving her with a painful feeling of emptiness. He stretched out his hand and touched the living wooden wall behind his back, murmuring something in his elven tongue.
Igraine gasped when she saw the two long branches growing out of the wall, reaching down to her. They moved around her wrists like tentacles, pulling her arms apart and high up over her head, shackling her without a hope of escape. She was his helpless victim now.
The elf moved the wood with his magic until he had her in a position most desirable for him. She was hanging in the air right over his hips so he could enter her with ease if he stood before her, while her upper body was bent back so her breasts were lifted invitingly to his mouth. “Oh yes,” he murmured, watching her with a wicked grin. “I am very pleased.” Elathan inspected her from head to toe, then raised a critical brow. “No. There is still something that doesn’t find my favor.”
Igraine cried out with surprise when his hands slid into the neck line of her chemise, ripping it in two parts with one single movement. It fell to the floor in shreds. “Damn, I will get you a new one, woman,” he said before she could throw a regretful look at it. “Now, you will learn what it means to be fully taken by an elf. I will not hold back this time. You wanted it that way.”
Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed her legs and placed them around his lean waist. Supporting her buttocks with his large hands, he moved the tip of his throbbing shaft towards her swollen sex, rubbing it along her damp folds, teasing her a little until she arched her hips to take him in.
When she looked down she gasped, seeing his huge erection pushing against her entrance. He lifted her on his hands towards his hips because he wanted her to watch, forbidding her to look away with a dark glance. She couldn’t avert her eyes even if she had wanted. It was an incredible sight, the heavily muscled warrior rising over her like a dark angel, his glorious hair spilling over his shoulders while he tossed back his head, his amber eyes darkened with desire.
As he slowly, slowly pressed into her hot wetness, Igraine couldn’t hold back the primal groan that escaped her lips. Watching his manhood as it entered her body was almost more than she could endure. He pushed himself deep into her, touching her womb, savoring the tight feeling before he pulled back again.
It took him but one single, strong thrust and she came with a scream, her satin flesh convulsing around him violently. When he smiled, his face held an expression of male triumph and sheer pleasure, making him move into her depths again. He rocked against her without leaving her the time to recover, so she climaxed a second time, growing limp in his arms.
When the prince felt the strong embrace of her inner muscles again, he lost the self-restraint he had managed to hold upright all the time. He buried his face between her sweet breasts, covering them all over with small love bites until she was unmistakably his, enjoying her sounds of lustful pain, just the right amount to arouse without hurting her. At the same time he slid in and out, stretching her with his thick hardness. Oh, how he loved her agonized gasps, her husky voice as she called out his name, pleading, demanding more.
He thrust her so hard and deep he could feel the draining feeling, weakening her like it did the first time he had taken her fully. But he slowed down if it became too much for her, always keeping her at the threshold of incredible lust and total surrender - the wonderful sensation of giving up completely, even if it meant her death. But he would not allow anything to harm her, so he pressed his forehead to hers, giving her his strength, a part of him to hold on whenever she began to fade away.
The feeling of completeness shook them both while they moved against each other, making it impossible to believe they were two separate beings, joined, as they were now in mind as well as in body. The prince pumped into her again and again, unable to think of anything else but the overwhelming wish to lose himself in her body, never to come back. Up and down he went, claiming her mouth with a fierce kiss right before he exploded inside her in a white-hot eruption, riding the wave of sheer ecstasy while he spilled himself into her welcoming depths. When he called her name, ordering her to come with him, she obeyed instantly, her shuddering relief wringing the last sweet drop of pleasure out of his body.
Heavily breathing, Elathan touched the wooden shackles that still held her up, commanding them wordlessly to release her. When she was free, he took his exhausted pleasure slave in his arms and gently lay her down on the silken pillows. Then he sprawled beside her and pulled her into a tight embrace to keep her warm, possessively placing one of his long legs over hers. You are mine, human. He placed a tender kiss on her hair, assuming she was asleep already. But she opened her lovely green eyes one last time, smiling up at him.
“Thank you, Sire.”
Elathan chuckled. “I like it when you say that.”