by Mina Carter
“That’s it, little faery. Come for me.” His whisper was a dark temptation against her ear. “I want to feel you come all over my fingers. Then I’m gonna fuck you, long and hard, until you scream my name.”
The crude words tipped her over the edge and dropped her into shattering pleasure. It rippled through her body like a spreading blaze. Every nerve ending fired as her pussy clamped down around his fingers. He didn’t stop, kept stroking her to prolong the waves of pleasure that coursed through her.
Eyes clamped shut, she clutched at his leathers to ground herself and rode the storm of sensation. She’d come, and come hard before, but nothing like this. She’d never felt anything like this. Never felt pleasure so complete it almost hurt and made her desperate for more.
More of him. An elf. She opened her eyes and looked up into his cruelly handsome face. Desire darkened his hooded eyes, his jaw clenched as he stroked her one last time and slipped his hand from between her legs.
“Make yourself presentable,” he growled. “We’re about to get company.”
Chapter Three
Fucking hells.
Bane gritted his teeth as the swirl of dark energy he’d felt drew closer. He recognized the feel of Briac’s power as easily as he’d recognize his own father’s. They’d grown up together, picked up a sword within minutes of each other…and Briac had a habit of stealing any woman Bane took an interest in.
His body raging with lust, he grabbed Tamryn and shoved her behind him as the tall, broad-shouldered figure of the elven king took shape from the darkness. Behind him were his ever-present troll bodyguards, hulking brutes the lot of them.
Gnalt, the biggest bastard of the lot, gave him a glare that Bane ignored. It had nothing at all to do with the current situation and everything to do with the black eye the troll was currently sporting. A present from Bane during yesterday’s sparring match.
But Gnalt wasn’t Bane’s problem, so he switched his attention to Briac. The king was far too cunning and aware of myriad politics and petty power games among his warriors. Bane was sure he’d orchestrated half the feuds that were currently raging. Better to have his warriors fighting among themselves than casting eyes on the throne.
Bane didn’t do feuds, nor did he want the throne. A rotted lump of carved wood, it seemed possession of the damn thing, through birthright or right of conquest, only took a warrior off the battlefield where he belonged and thrust him into a world where words were cheap and everyone lied. There was a good reason Bane wasn’t into politics. Killing your opposition for lying was frowned upon, even in the elven court.
Briac, though…Briac he’d make an exception for. The only reason they hadn’t seriously come to blows yet was because Bane’s father had made him promise on his deathbed not to kill the little weasel. At least until the pain in the ass had sired a son to take the crown.
“Well, hello, hello. What do we have here?” Briac smiled, his quicksilver eyes warming as he spotted the slender woman half hidden behind Bane.
“Nothing you need to be worried about.”
Bane sidestepped to block Briac’s view. A glance over his shoulder made him groan inwardly. Tamryn’s hair was tousled, an artful tumble of curls around her pretty heart-shaped face that invited a man to run his hands through it. Big violet eyes were wide and wary over a button nose and bee-stung lips swollen from his kisses completed the look. She was a siren enough to tempt any man, and elves weren’t known for their restraint.
“Just an enemy scout I’m questioning.”
Briac’s eyebrow shot up. “We’re calling it questioning now? I thought we just called it f—”
“Questioning,” Bane growled, hand already on his sword hilt. It was suicide to challenge the king in front of his lapdogs, but anger overruled any and all common sense. He glared at the line of trolls, bristling like one of their attack dogs as he silently dared any of them to say anything. Briac chuckled.
“Very well, questioning it is. Bitch queen has deployed dragons, so we’re moving back. Join us when you’re finished…questioning.”
“As you command.” Now walk on, kingling, get the fuck out of here.
Unreleased lust ran rampant through Bane’s body as he watched the trickster king and his entourage depart, blending into the darkness as silently as they’d arrived.
“Trolls. Fucking filthy animals.”
He spat on the ground in the direction they’d left and then turned back to Tamryn. She looked off into the darkness after the departing group.
“Was that…?”
“Briac the Bloodthirsty, yes,” he snapped, jealousy filling him that she was thinking about another man. “Around here we generally call him Briac the bloody annoying. Come on, unless you want to be here when some of those trolls double back for a taste of faery flesh.”
Fear flashed in her eyes and she stepped a little closer to him at his words. The tiny movement, as though she trusted him to protect her, fed his male pride. Pity she was wrong. He had no interest in protecting her for anything other than his own purposes. Reaching out, he imprisoned her wrist in a manacle of firm fingers, then pulled her up against his solid body.
“You don’t need to be scared of them, little one.”
He stroked a thumb along her full lower lip. Her breath huffed against his skin and her eyes darkened at the touch, and became pools of violet he could drown in. Leaning down as though to kiss her, he paused a fraction from her lips to whisper a warning.
“You need to be scared of me.”
You need to be scared of me.
The words swirled around inside Tamryn’s head as he dragged her back through the forest the way they’d come. How he knew which way to go was beyond her. Everything looked the same, the trees crowding in around them with eager whispers, their branches reaching out long fingers to pluck at her hair and clothes. She gasped, moving faster to stay closer behind her fearsome-looking captor. None of the enchanted trees dared touch him, their questing branches falling away as he turned at her sound.
Anger flared across his face as he saw the movement. He barked an order in a language she didn’t understand, glaring at the blackened branches. They quailed under his look, shivering and trying to wrap around each other as though to escape his furious look.
Fear and excitement warred within her, making her stumble as they moved again, plowing through the darkness. Fear that those trolls would come back—there were stories of exactly what trolls did to the faeries they’d captured—and excitement because she hoped that at least half the stories of what Bane did to his captives were true.
He shouldered his way through a last set of branches to reveal the small camp she’d woken up in. Yanking her around, he threw her onto his bed furs and loomed over her. The size and breadth of him took her breath away as she looked up. The heat that had been dampened by the arrival of the king and his brutal bodyguards flared into full life as she took in every inch of him.
He was tall, easily as tall as the trolls, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and what she would have called horsemen’s thighs if she’d suspected he’d ever been anywhere near a horse. As far as she knew, the only thing a horse was called in the Elven army was “dinner”.
His feet planted, his face was a mask of concentration as he muttered under his breath. She opened her mouth to ask if he’d finally lost his mind when she felt the buildup of power in the clearing.
Unlike her magic, which was linked to the earth and the seasons, this was chaotic and untamed. Wild magic in the rawest of forms. It swirled around the trees, circling the clearing and the man standing at the center. He called it to him, demanding that it obey in a voice of power and authority. She shivered as it crawled over her skin, caressing her with a sensuous bite as it answered Bane’s call.
A call she felt herself. Faeries were creatures of magic, as susceptible to the call of power as wild magic itself. All she wanted to do was follow it, crawling on her hands and knees to his feet to rub her face against his thigh a
nd obey his every command.
What the fuck was wrong with her?
She bit her lip, using the sharp distraction to stay where she was as Bane set wards around the small camp. Her body was on fire. Need clawed at her, racing through her veins. Her nipples were tight, drawing a simmering line of desire down her body to her aching cunt as she squirmed on his bed furs. She knew what was going to happen. He hadn’t dragged her back to his camp for a nice chat over a cup of tea.
She was going to get fucked. By a big, brutal elven warrior. Her lips pressed together to contain her moan. She might want it, she might need it more than her next breath, but she’d be damned if he’d make her beg for it.
A soundless clap of power sealed the wards and he looked down. His eyes blazed with dark lust as his gaze wandered over her body.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful.”
He dropped to his knees and grabbed her ankles. The muscles in his arms bunched as he spread her legs and pulled her bodily toward him. She struggled, but it made no difference. His hands were manacles of steel on her ankles. She slithered across the furs until he ended up between her spread thighs.
“Yeah? You’re an elf, what would you know about beauty?”
She knew she was gabbling, but she couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. As small a fight as back chatting was, she still had to do it. Anything other than be a victim and take it. Even if she did want it.
His big hands swept down the outsides of her spread thighs as he leaned over her. The bulk of his large, heavily muscled body blocked some of the light from the fire, his face cast into darkness. His eyes glittered in the blackness.
“I know it when I see it.”
Bracing himself over her on one arm, he looped the fingers of his free hand into the lacings that ran down the front of her tunic. With a savage jerk, he tore through the thin cords that held it together. She gasped as the tunic parted and cold air washed over her exposed flesh.
“Like dragons, we lust after beauty…covet it. We want to possess it. Taste it. Own it.”
His voice grew lower, husky. Each word tugged at Tamryn, the ache within her pulsing in resonance with his deep voice. Oh hells yeah, if they were talking about the sensual type of tasting, she was all in.
He pushed the fabric farther apart. Slender of form, without the big bust of her sidhe cousins, she didn’t wear anything beneath. She sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed the underside of her breast, then cupped the small mound. His hand was large and warm, roughened with calluses that made her shiver.
“So delicate and pretty.”
His words were soft against her skin as he leaned down to pepper kisses over the slope of her shoulder before working his way down. She made a small sound of need and pleading, torn from deep within her.
He growled in response, the deep rumble emanating from deep within his chest as he gathered her to him. His supporting arm under her neck pillowed her head, while his free hand pulled her thigh up over his hip. Rolling his hips, he pressed against her, his cock rubbing against her clit.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he rubbed against her sinuously. Hard male body over her and the sensuous feel of soft fur beneath…sensory heavens. His lips trailed down her breast to close on a nipple. He sucked and liquid heat shot through her body.
Working her nipple, he sucked and nipped until she was writhing beneath him. Then he swirled his tongue around her nipple, soothing the small hurts, and she was lost. Gods, the things the man could do with his mouth should be illegal.
She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, then up his neck and over his head. The short stubble of his hair was like velvet under her hands as she held him against her. He had a full head of hair, so why he cropped it to the scalp, she didn’t know and didn’t care. Not when it felt so good to touch.
Arching her back, she offered herself up to him in a willing sacrifice. She needed this, wanted it…wanted him…
“Damn, you taste good…”
His words were murmured against her skin as he moved down her stomach. Automatically, she sucked in a breath. She wasn’t vain, but she knew she was in good shape. All of the Queen’s Scouts were—a result of being on the move and having to snag meals on the trot.
He kissed and licked down the valley of her breasts, between the ribs and onto her softly rounded belly. His lips left a lingering trail over her skin, until he was stopped by the waistband of her leathers.
“These have to go.”
His hands smoothed over the leather across her hips, and for a second she thought he was about to start kissing it. Which was all well and good, lots of men she knew had a leather fetish…but she could think of far better uses for his lips.
“Oothraal…”
His word was a whisper, but she felt the spell attached to it and squeaked as her leathers disappeared. Instead of feeling his hands on her hips through the leathers, they were on her skin.
“Better,” he murmured as he leaned down to carry on kissing over her stomach. Surprise and sudden heat backdrafted through her body. She was half naked under him, her legs spread wide by his broad shoulders. Open and vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to her. Cool air teased at her exposed lower lips, the contrast with his hot mouth just above her mons making her shiver in sensual delight.
Her hands still on his head, she urged him lower. Her pussy clenched as he took the hint and moved down, flicking his tongue over the neatly trimmed strip of pubic hair. Nerves spread to the breaking point, she lifted her hands to twine them in the furs around her.
Her clit was a tight bundle of anticipation as his mouth hovered over her. She shifted her hips, displaying herself for him in an age-old feminine movement.
She didn’t have to wait long. He growled and his hands clamped around her hips to hold her still. His hot breath washed over her pussy lips, then he parted them with a bold sweep of his tongue.
A cry of pleasure escaped her lips before she could stop it. Before she’d realized what she was doing, she had her hands back on his head again, running her fingers over the velvet-like stubble and urging him on. He didn’t need any urging. A low guttural moan escaped her. She’d been eaten out before, but never as expertly as this.
Splaying a large hand over her stomach, he circled her clit, then dipped down to rim the entrance to her cunt with his tongue. Her ability to think went up in the same flames that consumed her. He licked and nibbled, playing her body with an ease and skill his brutish appearance belied. The tightness in her core spread to the rest of her body, driven tighter by the rasp of his tongue as he ran it from slit to clit.
He drew the tight bud into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it in rapid movements. Without warning, he plunged a long, thick finger deep inside her. The release that had been hovering crashed over her, stealing her breath and her ability to resist him.
Moaning, she rode wave after wave of pleasure, aided by his fingers stroking deep inside her. Elongating her release by stroking against the sweet spot buried deep inside her with each shudder and clench around his finger. She panted and moaned through her release, growing quiet as the waves of bliss simmered down. He pulled his fingers from her and she pouted, her eyes closed as she tried to get her composure back.
She hadn’t just done that, had she? Allowed an elf to bring her to a shattering release so complete she wasn’t sure she’d ever be whole again.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes snapped open at the order to find him looming over her. His eyes glittered with a feral light, lust and darkness fighting for dominance. His leather and mail were gone, presumably the same way as her leathers.
She caught her breath at his male beauty. Broad, muscled shoulders were covered in satin skin that showed the marks of a warrior’s life. One scar looped almost decoratively around a pierced nipple and disappeared down onto his stomach. She bit back a whimper, the need to follow that silvery trail with her lips and tongue almost overwhelming.
Strong fingers captured
her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “Keep looking at me. I want you to know what…who is taking you. So there are no arguments later.”
She swallowed, unnerved and excited by the intensity of his gaze. Despite the fact that she’d just come harder than she ever had before, liquid heat slipped from her pussy at the thought of being filled with his long, thick cock.
Thought became need. She needed to touch him, feel the length and breadth of him in her hands. Need became action. She tried to reach down between them, only to find her hands swiftly captured and pinned above her head.
“Wha—”
“No,” he snarled, lust tightening his expression. “No touching. This isn’t some romantic tryst where we find out about each other and hold hands in the moonlight. I want you, so I’m going to take you. Fuck you. And you’re going to watch me do it.”
Dark excitement hummed through her veins as he pushed her thighs apart and settled between them. She gasped as the broad head of his cock pressed against the entrance to her cunt. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Would he slide in slowly, making her take his cock inch by slow inch, or surge into her in one go?
“Look at me!”
He shoved, cock breeching her smaller body in one savage push, his groan drowning out her soft keen of pleasure. She was slick with excitement, so wet from the pleasure he’d already brought her that he managed to seat himself almost to the hilt. Hands tight on her wrists, he grunted in determination and drove the rest of the way into her in a series of short, sharp thrusts.
Biting her lip, she kept her eyes on his, unable to look away. He was big, bigger than any lover she’d had before. The thick girth of his cock parted her, pressing tight almost to the point of pain. Buried to the root, he paused for a moment, a strange light in his eyes as he stroked her hair back from her face with his free hand.
“Breathe. It’ll feel good in a moment,” he offered gruffly, shifting his supporting hand to between hers over her head, no longer holding them. She started to move, but his warning glare had her putting her hands right back where he’d placed them.
