Bound to the Prince

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Bound to the Prince Page 19

by Deborah Court


  Having reached the pool formed by the mighty waterfall, he gently lay her down at the water's edge. “Wake up, mo ghrá!” he murmured, caressing her hair. When she didn't move, he stretched out beside her in the soft grass and touched her forehead with his, entering her mind. She searched for her in the darkness, but there was nothing. His heart beat quicker with the sudden fear to lose her forever.

  But as he blindly reached out into the emptiness, calling her again and again, he noticed the soft voice of her beautiful soul answering, weak but unmistakable. A surge of relief washed over him. He had not lost her. There she was, hidden in a far corner of her mind, closed up by a mental wall she had erected herself. Obviously she was trying to shield herself against something that frightened her, but he was not sure what it was.

  The answer came to him in an instant. Knowledge. Aon had revealed something to her, but whether about her past or future, the prince couldn’t tell. Igraine held that part of herself safely enclosed, to keep herself from thinking … knowing. Elathan didn't want to penetrate her defense by force, otherwise he would hurt her even more. But whatever it was, it had terrified her so much that she preferred being unconscious to facing her newfound realization.

  Damn the dragon’s son and his prophecies, Elathan thought. Come, Igraine, he called out to her. Come back to me.

  No, he heard her faint answer. I don’t want to see. I just want to sleep for a while, not knowing. Please, my Prince, hold me and let me sleep.

  Igraine. He let his voice grow stronger and louder until it echoed in her mind, making her unable to ignore him. You will not sleep now. Not like this, when you can drift so far away that I might not be able to find you anymore. I will let you rest when you are back with me. Do not heed what the unicorn told you. I always believed myself to be the master of my own destiny, despite all prophecies. The future is yet unwritten. You will make your own choices, Igraine. But not now. As your prince and protector, I command you to come back to me.

  He felt her resistance, but he continued, well knowing that she had not the strength to defy him. Come back. I need you, sweet Igraine. You are mine.

  When he sensed her struggle to forget her fear and return, he noticed that he had not convinced her by giving her an order. It was his confession that he needed her that seemed to have changed her mind. Her eyelids began to flutter, then relaxed as she drifted into slumber once more. He cursed softly. She still lay far too lifeless in his arms. He had to try something else. What she needed was a good reason to come back, something that was palpable. And she needed it right now, before she retreated into her secret place of shelter again. Elathan was not sure if he would still reach her if she decided to flee even deeper into unconsciousness.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” the prince said before he pulled her in his arms and kissed her lingeringly. He was positive that she felt all of it, even if her eyes were still closed and she didn't move. Her blood was united with his. Whether she liked it or not, her body would always react to his touch. It would make her feel alive again.

  Besides, he had to admit that he could not resist her allure any longer.

  Her warmth. Her joyful, heartfelt laughter, filling his heart with a peace he had never known before. The green depths of her eyes, darkened with passion every time he took her, entering her sweet, welcoming body. It was like coming home. The way she looked at him when he angered her, eyes blazing, proud and fearless like a warrior goddess in all her furious glory. Her soft skin, so sensitive to his touch. Her hair, shimmering dark against his skin when he let his fingers slide through her tresses. But it was how she smelled that drove him crazy whenever she was near.

  He kissed her lips very tenderly at first, barely grazing them. They felt like velvety rose petals that were almost too delicate to his touch. Still he sucked her lush lower lip into his mouth, tasting her like a delicious treat, biting just a bit. It pleased him when her lips looked swollen from his kisses. He traced her with the tip of his tongue, slowly and carelessly as if he had all the time in the world. Then he continued with her upper lip, nibbling and suckling some more before his kiss deepened. She did not move, but her heart beat faster. Yet she responded to him. He felt her quickened pulse under his fingers while he caressed her throat. Slowly, his fingers wandered further down, slipping under the neckline of her gown.

  Igraine visibly shivered when he moved his hand over the soft mound of her breast. His thumb and forefinger captured her sensitive peak and twitched it gently until she hardened for him. He continued with her other breast, stroking her up and down very slowly. This time he used his palm to rub over her nipple in tiny circles, slowly increasing the pressure. The prince smiled, noticing how quick the little rosebud tightened this time. His little minx seemed to like this very much. He had to keep that in mind for later. Maybe he could try this on other parts of her body, too.

  The dress was in his way, so he grabbed the hem of her skirt and shoved it slowly upwards over her hips, groaning when he saw the seductive dark triangle between her thighs. He pushed it higher until he had her lying naked in front of him. The crimson fabric gathered above her full breasts, now exposed to his view and touch. Satisfied, he lowered his head to take the wonderful fruit of passion with his mouth, raising them up and together with his hands to devour her. He covered her with kisses before he licked her tight nipples one after another, circling them with his tongue. When he sucked her deep into the moist warmth of his mouth, he heard it.

  Igraine moaned. It was a very soft sound, but it didn't escape his elven ears. He raised his head to look at her face, but she still slept.

  “Oh, you enjoy this very much, little human, don’t you?” he said, covering her neck with hot kisses. The elf quickly discarded his own clothes. Then he placed his naked body fully on top of her, lifting his weight up on his strong arms while he began to rub his whole length up and down her belly. He kissed her gently before he spread her thighs with his own. “Open for me, sweet Igraine,” he murmured. Reaching down with his hand, he opened her and began to caress the swollen little center of her desire, pleased when he felt the wetness there.

  “You are ready for me,” he said, stroking her gently until he heard another moan. But he still hesitated to take her. Her body had already agreed to join with him; she burned with desire for him. Yet he wasn't sure if she really wanted him right now, when she was still hurt from the encounter with the unicorn. He pressed his forehead to her and quickly entered her mind. Do you want me to take you, Igraine? He reached out into the darkness, uncertain if he would find her. Let me love you. Let me take away your pain.

  Yes, elf. What are you waiting for? Her desperate answer hit him with its force, and he knew that she had almost succeeded in tearing down the wall that separated her from him. Help me, she added weakly.

  The prince didn't need more encouragement. He rubbed his hard male heat along her moist folds before he entered her, delving deep until he was fully embedded in her wonderful warmth. The pleasure of joining was so strong that he almost spent himself on the spot, but he held still for a moment, heavily breathing at her neck until he had regained his self-control. He felt little tremors running through her body, and her inner walls seemed to hug him closer.

  Relieved, he laughed out loud and pressed her close to his chest, feeling the strong, fast beating of her heart while he began to move. He began slowly, but with every thrust he felt life entering Igraine’s body, reviving her with his own strength and magic. But instead of weakening him, it only increased his pleasure. The feeling of becoming one with her was almost more than he could take. Groaning, he lifted her legs over his shoulders so he could enter her more deeply than he ever had before, moving harder with every stroke until he heard her moans again, sounding like lustful sobs now.

  Igraine awakened more with each of the elf’s sensual movements. Her muscles tightened, and she began to lift her hips upward to meet him, adjusting to his hard, primal rhythm. He pounded into her again and again, driving life into
her until he felt her arms around his body, embracing him while they rocked against each other. One final thrust, and he could not hold himself back any longer and poured himself into her, finding release in glorious waves of splendor. When he groaned with incredible satisfaction, her voice mingled with his as she reached the final peak with him, convulsing around his manhood with uncontrollable, shuddering contractions.

  Breathing heavily, the prince lifted his head and looked into her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were slightly opened. He heard her soft sigh and knew that she was with him.

  Elathan grinned. “Was that finally sufficient to wake you up, Igraine? I thought you would sleep forever. If you continue neglecting your duties, woman, I will have to find another slave of pleasure.”

  Igraine opened her beautiful green eyes and silently looked at him for a moment. When he heard her sweet, irresistible laughter, an overwhelming feeling of relief washed over him. At the same time he felt like spanking her for the sorrow she had caused him, and not for the first time. But in his heart he knew that it was much more than sorrow he had felt.

  Igraine, however, found a way to distract him before he could become too angry with her.

  “I am not sure if I'm already awake,” she said. “To be honest, I still feel quite sleepy after this. Maybe you should try it again. But this time, my Prince, a little more effort will be required.”

  Chapter 18: Calatin

  They didn't know it was their last night of blissful peace, lying in each other’s arms in the intimacy of their house in the old tree.

  The prince had refused to love Igraine once more although she begged him, claiming that she needed her strength to recover from the events of the day. When he had called Ahearn, the steed had returned, stomping excitedly when he saw his beloved master and his lady.

  Igraine couldn't tell how long the ride back had taken. She had slept like a child in Elathan’s arms, while he kept her safely in the saddle before him. This time, it was the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion, and it gave her rest and peace of mind. She wouldn't fight against her destiny anymore. Instead, she had decided to embrace it. Elathan had made her come back, he needed her. And she would be at his side until her heart stopped beating, even if her time on earth was more limited than she had expected. For now she just enjoyed the moment, leaning against his strong body, her head at his neck. Surrounded by his comforting warmth, she happily breathed in his wonderful male fragrance that had become so familiar to her. “Sleep now, my love,” he said with a tender kiss on her hair, wrapping his strong arm around her waist before he urged the horse into a fast gallop. “We are going home.”

  It felt like home indeed when they came back to the clearing. Elathan magically lit the fire and left her there. She was cuddled up in his blanket, leaned comfortably against a tree. “Stay here. I mean it,” he said slowly to emphasize his words before he disappeared into the forest. After a while he came back, with another boar he had hunted down slung over his broad shoulders. “You need your strength,” he commanded when she had resisted eating the roasted meat at first, not feeling hungry at all. He also had brought her fresh fruit and nuts, which she preferred, but only gave these to her after she had first taken some large bites of the meat.

  She noticed that the prince seemed to be an excellent cook. He had seasoned the boar with some unknown herbs he had found in the woods, and it tasted delicious. This elf has some unexpected qualities, she thought, smiling to herself. “I will let the fairies bake bread for you in the morning,” he said, nibbling on his roasted boar leg. “Oh, and new undergarments for you too, I forgot. I’d better let them make several of these ridiculous thin shreds of fabric. They are quite useless, anyway.”

  “I happen to like wearing a chemise,” Igraine said, smiling. “And it would be very kind of you if you let me undress first before you want to love me next time, Sire.”

  “Hmm. I do not know if I can promise that, but I will give it a try, woman.” When he watched her with a rakish grin, her heart beat faster. “Though I have to admit that my patience has been wearing thin lately. I seem to be unable to resist your allure, my slave of pleasure.”

  Igraine didn't show him her disappointment that he still used this expression. After all that had occurred between them, she had almost forgotten what she was to him - a slave. She knew that her position was a place of honor among his people, more than any human woman could ever hope to achieve in his world. Yet she wanted to be so much more to him. But how could she?

  He was an elf, and even royalty among his race. His people despised her own race, thinking them the inferior species. Maybe they were right. Humanity had learned to understand some of the laws of nature and had used them to exploit the earth, leaving destruction and death behind wherever they went. Elathan had told her how it used to be long ago, when the world was still young. His people had once inherited the forests, rivers, the mountains and the sea, coexisting peacefully with the humans who had preferred to stay on open land, tilling their fields. But the mortals’ hunger for power, always wanting more, had forced the Fae to retreat more and more until they hid deep in their beloved woods or in the bowels of the earth, protected by magic. Over the centuries man believed them to be imaginary, born of myths and legends, not real creatures who lived and breathed.

  But now that she finally knew her destiny, it could have been worse than to die for the prince she loved. For the first time in her life, her soul was completely at peace. It was so good to live just for the moment. No worries about the future, no regrets for what she said or did - just for the things for which she now wouldn’t have enough time left. But for now, being with him was all she needed to be happy.

  Later, when they had retreated to the shelter of their home in the trees, for the first time the prince had shown signs of exhaustion himself. While he lay down on their makeshift bed, he pulled her to his side and held her so close she could hardly breathe, quickly falling asleep after he had placed a loving kiss on her hair. Igraine lay awake for a while, her head snuggled comfortably to his chest. The sound of his strong heart beating inside his chest comforted her, and finally she closed her eyes, smiling to herself.

  * * * * *

  They awoke the next morning to a strange wetness dropping on their faces. Elathan was awake in an instant, jumping to his feet with his sword drawn. Igraine sat up, rubbing her eyes while she tried to understand where the water came from. How could it rain through the roof when the chamber was built inside a massive tree trunk? But then she lifted her eyes and saw that it didn’t just rain through some hole in the ceiling. The water poured down like a waterfall, running down the walls and covering the floor. Cursing, Elathan took her hand and pulled her to her feet before she drowned. Already knee-deep in the icy water, they waded to the door, opened it and climbed on the wooden platform outside. There they grabbed a thick branch while the chamber overflowed and water gushed out all around them, down the side of the tree.

  When it was over, Igraine smoothed back her wet hair, feeling like a drowned rat. When she turned to the side, she had to suppress a giggle because her noble prince had lost a good portion of his grandeur. His shimmering mane was plastered to his head, the wetness dripping even from the tips of his pointed ears. His clothing clung to his muscular body like a second skin, a sight that was most welcome to her eyes. She was only human, after all.

  The prince would have maintained a certain amount of dignity if he had not shifted his weight to his other foot, causing a squeaking sound. It seemed that his boots were filled with water, too. Igraine couldn’t deny the absurdity of the situation any longer. She felt a fit of hysterical laughter rising inside her chest, hardly able to restrain herself while she covered her mouth with her hand. Elathan ignored her muffled noises. His predatory eyes were fixed on a point on the floor, deathly anger flaming up inside their golden depths. “Magic,” he murmured. “Who else could have the audacity for this foolish prank? Trying to drown his own prince. I should have known i
t was him.”

  Igraine was so astonished by his words that she forgot to laugh. “Him?” she said breathlessly. “You mean, someone did this deliberately? But who …” Her gaze followed Elathan’s.

  “Calatin.” Elathan’s raised voice startled her. There was a stranger standing in safe distance of the tree, just far enough to prevent his polished boots from being ruined by the water. So far, Elathan had been the most stunning male she'd ever laid eyes on. But the beauty of this man made her want to shield her eyes. No, not a man. He was an elf, his pointed ears clearly visible between the thin braids of his long red hair which shone like a copper shield in the bright morning sun. He wore light chainmail armor made of shimmering silver, with a fine grey tunic and trousers underneath. She simply couldn't help staring into his almond-shaped eyes, green as emeralds, which were currently, wandering up and down her body with an openly admiring expression. Igraine gasped when it occurred to her that right now, Elathan wasn’t the only one dressed in wet clothes. With the light behind her, the thin fabric of her gown doubtless left very few parts of her to the imagination.

  “I am relieved that you finally have left the comfort of your cozy little nest up there, my Lord,” the elf named Calatin said calmly. His insolent smile made his perfect face look definitely rakish. Igraine mused that elven maidens threw themselves at his feet when he smiled at them like this. “Obviously your warrior days are gone, Sire. Methinks you have spent too many centuries alone in your caves, sulking over your destiny. Your sleep was so sound that you wouldn't have heard a horde of trolls climbing up your tree, so I had to use a little magic to get you out of there. But I never would have expected to see such beauty in the morning light,” he added gallantly, bowing before Igraine.

 

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