Knights of Black Swan, Books 7-9 (Knights of Black Swan Box Set Book 3)

by Victoria Danann

  “Elora,” I gently pulled her back to me where she belonged, “you must have faith that we’re well matched. I’ll no’ ask you to do anything you do no’ want. Ever. If you never want to set foot in my brother’s house, then we will no’. If circumstances put kingship in my path and you ask me to pass on the crown, I’d be glad for it because, truly, ‘tis the last thing I want.”

  Elora tilted her head to the side. “You have that choice?” She studied my face. “Liam told me you used to run away.”

  “Aye. Understand this. The only person who can force me to do anything is you.”

  “Really?”

  I was thinkin’ perhaps she sounded a bit too intrigued by the possibilities. But no matter. There was nothin’ I would deny her.

  She stepped back into close contact with my body as I enveloped her in my arms. Buryin’ her face in my neck I heard her drag in a sniff of my smell and I laughed softly, knowin’ she was utterly and completely mine. Her body moved closer to mine, meltin’ against me in the perfect fit of a true mate.

  “So you will no’ be needin’ a ride to the town then.”

  I knew the answer o’ course, but could no’ resist the pleasure of feelin’ smug. She raised her chin and opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she intended to say was muffled by a consumin’ kiss ever so much more potent than memory.

  I growled in approval when she responded by tanglin’ her tongue with mine, her breath comin’ ever faster. My hand found its way beneath her sweater, straight to a nipple standin’ at attention just beggin’ to be touched.

  I scowled when she pulled away sayin’, “Just a minute.”

  I saw the flush on her face, the shine in her eyes, and knew she was ready for me. So ‘twas most confusin’ when she left the business of love makin’ to go fishin’ ‘round in her backpack.

  In less than a minute, she said, “Here they are!” and waved three strips of neon-bright condoms in the air. “Heart Throbs. Guaranteed feminine satisfaction.”

  My ego was reelin’ as I tried to imagine why she thought I would no’ take care of her needs. “And you do no’ think I can guarantee feminine satisfaction?”

  She laughed. “I know you can, but we need protection. I mean, I guess we got lucky last time, but…”

  ‘Twas excitin’ that she had come prepared and ‘twas further evidence that she had already reached a conclusion of the inevitability of us, before she’d arrived. ‘Tis also flatterin’ to any male when his lover chooses extra large, even when it is the only possible option.

  I was elated by the fact that she’d thought about us in an intimate way and I hated to bring her excitement to a sober end, but ‘twas clear she did no’ understand we did no’ need protection from pregnancy. There would be no pregnancy in our future.

  That thought must have been reflected on my face because she looked both serious and deflated. “What is it, Ram?” she asked.

  It has been my experience that there’s no’ really a way to soften hard truths. Like pullin’ off a bandaid, ‘tis best to simply be out with it. So I said, “Elora, my darlin’, elves and humans are rarely matched by the Fates. When it does occur, there is no procreation.”

  “We won’t have children?”

  I shook my head no.

  She sunk down onto the couch behind her. I realized that I had come to terms with no’ havin’ elflings, but had no’ considered that it might be a hard thing for her as well. I pulled the ottoman in front of her and sat down, once again puttin’ my hands on her knees. I found it impossible to no’ be touchin’ her now that I had carte blanche to do so.

  She searched my eyes. “So that’s why you said having children wasn’t important.”

  At first I did no’ recall havin’ said that, but it did come back to me. “Our day in Manhattan. Aye. I said 'tis no’ important. And I meant it.”

  “You’re not disappointed?”

  “Disappointed! My darlin’ girl, I’m the farthest thing from that. I consider myself to be the luckiest elf in the world.” I hoped she heard it for the truth ‘twas. I took her hand, kissed her knuckles without takin’ my eyes from hers, and said, “Besides, there are little ones who are left alone in the world through no fault of their own. We could be their mum and da. Make them ours.”

  I saw her eyes mist over just before she reached over to trace the scar that ran down my face. No one would be callin’ me ‘pretty boy’ again anytime soon.

  She smiled and said, “Adopt.”

  “Aye. Adopt.”

  “There’s really nothing about you that isn’t wonderful, is there?”

  I tried to think of a way to answer that question with humility, but decided that ‘twas more important that my mate be pleased with her male. So I smiled and said, “No. There’s no’.” I pulled her to her feet again, pressed her close, and grew serious. What I wanted most in that moment was to impress upon her that we had a future to look forward to. “We’ll be happy, Elora. I swear it.”

  I believed she’d know I do no’ take swearin’ lightly. I would let nothin’ stand in the way of givin’ her what she needed to be happy.

  “And there’s another benefit to bein’ elf and human.”

  “What is it?”

  “I do no’ think I could remain erect while wearin’ the tart pink or the fiery orange.”

  “But lime yellow works for you?” She laughed. “Well, I guess that gives us some time to get to know each other, just the two of us.”

  “All the better to have my way with you, my dear.” I deliberately referenced that story about the wolf and nuzzled her neck, feelin’ the shivers go down her body. I hoped we were done with conversation for the time bein’, but no’ quite.

  “The night I was drugged you said you wanted the first time to be… not like that.”

  “Aye. I did say that.” I was twirlin’ the pearl buttons on her sweater.

  “So show me what you had in mind.”

  “Can no’.”

  “Why no’?” She teased mimickin’ my accent.

  “Because, all those nights I was lyin’ in my bed alone thinkin’ about bein’ with you, what I pictured was a slow burn savorin’ of every inch of this heavenly body. But these past days, I thought you were lost to me… seemed more like years in hel than days. I do no’ think I’m good for anything right now but hard and fast.” I pulled her close, walkin’ her backwards. “I need you to wrap yourself around me and hold on tight while I pound into you, balls flyin’, both of us knowin’ beyond question that you are mine.”

  Her lips parted as her eyes moved from my eyes to my mouth and back again. “That,” she swallowed, “sounds good, too.”

  It took little time to divest ourselves of clothing and be as we were meant to be, gloriously naked and fallin’ onto my bed together. Feelin’ her bare skin, next to mine… Knowin’ she was in complete control of her faculties and choosin’ me was by far the most erotic thing that had ever happened to me.

  I was desperate for every touch, every one of her little gasps and sexy sounds. The more intense was my desire for her, the more she responded.

  She did no’ beg, but I could see the word ‘please’ in her eyes. I plunged into her and ravished her with a ferocity that I did no’ know I had in me.

  The short winter day was givin’ way to darkness. I raised myself up to look into her eyes in the dim light. Never saw anything as beautiful as the woman lyin’ with me, lookin’ like ‘twas where she belonged.

  I knew the answer, but asked just to hear her put the words in the air to forever float around the world. “Are ye mine then?”

  “Completely.”

  I could no’ have fantasized a more perfect answer nor a more perfect mate.

  Feelin’ the night chill begin to set in, I rose and closed the shutters before settin’ about rekindlin’ the fire and startin’ a second smaller fire in the kitchen. ‘Twas my secret hope that she would like the cottage and want to return there with me from time to time, so I wanted to be s
ure she was comfortable.

  As I was makin’ adjustments to the way the fire was banked, I had the idea of havin’ dinner there on the floor, near the hearth. I’d seen something similar in romantic movies I’d watched as “homework”.

  I pulled cushions from the sofa to make a soft place to sit and assembled roast chicken, bread, cheese, and ale on a tray. Since I had no’ eaten anything Moira had sent for me, there was plenty.

  “What are we doing?” she said.

  “Havin’ dinner by the fire. Come.”

  She pulled the fur throw around her as she rose and walked on bare feet to join me, smilin’, her hair a glorious mess of color and tousle.

  As she sat, I pulled a bit of chicken away and held it toward her lips. She latched on with her teeth, takin’ it from my hand, and I found that feedin’ her in that way satisfied me to the marrow. It also seemed to interest my cock, no’ that most things she did were no’ interestin’ to the fucker.

  When I was sure she’d had her fill of our hand to mouth repast, I began to pull the sable throw away from her body. Her hands jerked up to cover the still-red marks where deep wounds were healed over, but no’ faded.

  Knowin’ that she was self-conscious because of marks received in the line of duty, specifically huntin’ down the vampire that had scarred me and left me for dead, my heart clenched in my chest like a vice grip. I could no’ stand the thought of her feelin’ shame about her body. No’ with me.

  I made no issue of it then, but filed it away in my heart as a sort of to do list of how I would find ways, at the right time and in the right place, to assure her that she was worshipped exactly as she was, that I would no’ change a hair on her head.

  I laid the fur over the cushions so that it made a small bed for one person or two people very close to one another.

  “Now let’s see about the savorin’,” I smiled as I urged her to lie with me.

  I had determined that I would be painstakin’ in showin’ my mate that she was adored in every way. I took my time learnin’ her body and mind, explorin’ what touches would ignite her passion, how hard, how soft, how fast, how slow. All the tiny catches of breath, the low murmurs and moans, the pressure she applied when she clutched at me in reponse, I catalogued in my mind so that I might become the perfect mate for her. I learned what every squeal, giggle, gasp, cry, shout, growl, moan, murmur, and purr meant and I reveled in every sound elicited. But none was as good to the ears as her mantra. “Ah, Ram. You feel so good.”

  Education had never been so good and she made it easy, bein’ exceptionally expressive physically and emotionally, and no’ shy about lettin’ me know the difference between good and ecstasy. I spent extra time where the evidence of her wounds remained. I bathed those places in little kisses, licks, and nuzzles until there could be no doubt in her mind that I loved all of her.

  She returned the favor by ministerin’ to my own scars in seriously sensual ways and found out that an elf’s ears are sensitive to the ministrations of a mate. When she licked her way ‘round my ears, she delighted in my shivers, sayin’. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since the night I discovered that elves are real in your world.”

  “Our world,” I corrected.

  “I guess so,” she replied as if she had no’ completely committed to the idea.

  When the fire needed tendin’, I urged her to climb back in bed and warm herself beneath the covers. I put a green log on the coals with a smatterin’ of kindlin’ wood and threw myself onto the bed next to Elora.

  She was quiet, but that was okay because I had the sense about me that she was content. I lay on top of the covers starin’ at the ceilin’ and, for some reason, blurted out, “I’ve no’ had a woman in my bed before. Ever. Just wanted you to know.”

  In light of the fact that I’d never shared the cottage with anyone, ‘twas surprisin’ that it felt so natural. Comfortable.

  “You mean this bed?”

  I turned to look at her so that we were mere inches apart. “I mean any bed designated as mine whether permanent or temporary. No' hotel or tent or Romanian fortress.”

  She leaned up on one elbow so that she was lookin’ down on me.

  “Was there someone in a Romanian fortress who wanted to crawl in bed with you?”

  I ran my hand slowly down her bare arm. “You tell me.”

  “You’ll never know,” she said playfully as she reached down and lightly drug her fingers up my thigh until she held my balls in her hand. Literally and figuratively.

  She apparently got the reaction she wanted, because she began to massage in earnest in ways that would be sophisticated for a sex worker.

  “And just where did you learn that, Little Miss Innocence?“

  “On the plane to Edinburgh,” she said with a casual toss of her head. “Vogue Magazine. “’The Lost Art of the Handjob’.” She smiled wickedly. “Like it?”

  “Astoundin'.” She had my rapt attention right up until my dick spurted like the Epcot Fountain of Nations.

  Elora was lookin’ at my male bits with a wide-eyed fascination that as much as said she’d never seen an ejaculation before. It occurred to me that she probably had no’. Her reaction was a little comical, but also special. I found I liked bein’ her first ‘handjob’.

  “Let’s do it again,” she gushed with an excitement that would have been contagious at a later time.

  I laughed, pullin’ her hand away from my cock, a thing I could never have pictured a few hours earlier.

  “I’ll be happy to oblige with a repeat performance, but my balls need a little break to manufacture more juice for your viewin’ pleasure.”

  “Well, hurry up then! Consider it a Command Performance.”

  I thought back to the day when I told Kay in my suite in Drac Unit that I had no choice but to love everything about her. ‘Twas true, o’ course, but those were just words I’d been taught since childhood. The reality of matin’ went far beyond the mundane limits of description. It was perfection. Pure joie de vivre.

  I loved that she was so responsive to my touch, so demandin’ when excited, so greedy for my cock, and receptive to new experiences. Last, but no’ least, she was affectionate to a fault. And I was contented as an elf can be.

  I rose durin’ the night to put more logs on the fire and poke at it. While I was up, I shoved bites of cheese, chicken, crackers, and apple into my mouth like I’d been a starvin’ man. And I suppose that was true because I had no‘ eaten for a couple of days. When I was full, I climbed back into bed, the same bed that had been cold all my life, but ‘twas now toasty warm with Elora’s elevated temperature. My eyelids grew instantly heavy listenin’ to the sweet, rhythmic lullaby of her breathing. I turned into her, gently spoonin’ so as no’ to wake her, and fell right away into the sleep of the enchanted.

  The next time I roused I knew without openin’ my eyes that ‘twas light outside. Runnin’ my hand across the sheet next to me, eyes still closed, I found the bed was missin’ an extra warm body. My first reaction was an unreasonin’ fear that I had imagined that the Lady Laiken had found her way across the sea and into my bed in my grandfather’s New Forest huntin’ cottage.

  Hearin’ something from behind in the kitchen, I rolled over. What to my wonderin’ eyes then appeared was Elora’s behind as she bent over peerin’ into a lower cabinet. The word JUICY was proudly displayed across her exquisite derriere and I indulged in a silent laugh of delight. The day before had begun in a pit of despair, with plans to write final letters, but it had ended in rapture.

  Without gettin’ up, I said, “I knew those very fine pants would look amazin’ on your gorgeous arse.”

  She turned her head. “You said ‘very fetchin’ britches’. And I said you don’t have permission to talk about my gorgeous ass. But thank you for the present. And the compliment. Happy Yule.”

  I grinned for the pure joy of havin’ my beautiful mate sassin’ me proper first thing in the mornin’.

  “What are you look
in’ for?”

  She stood and turned around. With the JUICY pants, she was wearin’ a white, long sleeve tee with no bra and fuzzy brown slippers with moose heads. I was certain ‘twould no’ be possible for a person to be cuter.

  “Breakfast. I found peanut butter. Which looks and smells really good right now, but it has to be an import. I’m sure they used fuel-powered machinery to make it so it must be contraband.” She narrowed her eyes. “Have you been bad?”

  “I have been bad, but no’ with peanut butter. ‘Tis legal. Will there be enough left for me?”

  “I can’t say. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  At that I got up and strode toward the kitchen allowin’ her to look her fill on the grand sight of a healthy, young elf first thing in the mornin’. When she realized that I and my erection were headed straight toward her, she laughed and moved to the other side of the butcher block island, puttin’ it squarely between the two of us.

  “Oh. No sir,” she said. “I’m hungry. Keep that very fine penis away from me unless it’s covered in peanut butter.”

  Well, no’ bein’ one to dodge a challenge, I was thinkin’ that sounded like a fine idea. And, I might add, one I would no’ have thought of on my own. Probably.

  Seein’ the look on my face, I knew she could tell where my mind had headed. She did no’ have to wait long for confirmation. I reached for the peanut butter jar, pulled a huge dollop away with two fingers and began dressin’ my, what was it she’d said?, very fine penis. Felt surprisin’ly good goin’ on and my cock was distendin’ just thinkin’ there was a possibility of havin’ peanut butter removed by Elora’s tongue. Preferably painstakin’ly slowly.

  I watched her lips part in the most attractive way as I covered every centimeter with peanut goodness. When her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, I swear I felt a drop of precum rise to the tip.

  Suckin’ the excess from my fingers, I held out my arms and said, “Well?”