Page 48 of Of Blood & Bone: The Young Queen

I long to touch him, to pull his naked flesh against me, but he holds me in place and continues to feast upon me. All I can do is look upon him as he takes pleasure from my body, and the sight alone causes an inferno of need within me and I ache so badly for his touch between my legs it hurts.

Then he takes both my hands in one of his and places them over my head. He places his free hand under my skirt and dips it into my underwear and runs a long, firm finger upwards, from where I have yet again become wet for him, to the throbbing bud at the apex of my womanhood. I cry out in desperate need and feel him smile against my breast. Then he takes its swollen tip between his teeth and flicks his tongue over it with merciless precision. At the same time his finger rubs over the swollen bud between my legs and the effect is mindblowing.

I struggle to free my hands as I feel the need to touch him and anchor myself to his form as I fear I’m going to fly away but he refuses to release them.

“Trust me, Elinor,” he groans against my skin as he keeps applying his delicious touch to the pulse points of need on my body. Faster and faster he goes, his tongue and finger moving in perfect symphony and I cry out to the sky, pressing my back against the rock for support and bucking my pelvis against his groin in an ancient rhythm I seem to instinctively know.

“That’s it, Elinor,” he urges, “let go.”

The feeling of his deep voice vibrating through my breast is the tipping point and just when I think I can’t take any more of the pressure building in me, something gives, and a wave of pleasure washes over me. It’s followed by multiple waves of pleasure so intense I feel a sob of emotion escape from my lips.

The prince quickly covers them with his own. “There, there, Elinor,” he whispers into my mouth, “come back to me.”

I open my eyes to find him staring into them. He smiles. “You’re so beautiful, and the depths of your passion is spellbinding.”

I smile back. “You certainly know how to kindle the flames of my passion.”

He kisses me again, long and slow, and I feel as if my bones could melt into him. Then I become aware of something pressing into my stomach. I break the kiss and look down and there, in all its naked glory is his manhood, not the sausage-like appendage from before, but more resembling a baton, a rather big baton.

“Oh,” I gasp in surprise.

He smiles. “Don’t be alarmed, that’s what a man looks like when he desires a woman. It’s perfectly natural.”

“But it looks painful,” I observe.

He laughs. “Hmmm...well I don’t know if I’d go as far as using the word painful, but it's certainly uncomfortable.”

I reach out my hand to touch it, but quickly pull it back as I’m unsure if my touch will cause him further discomfort.

“It's fine,” he says, “you can touch it if you like,” and if I'm not mistaken there's a hidden plea in his voice.

I reach out again and this time place my fingertips on its tip. A groan escapes his lips and I look up into his face to make sure I'm not doing him any harm.

“I'm fine,” he reassures me, but nevertheless there is a pained expression upon his face. I curl my fingers around his manhood and, taking my other hand, I place it at the base near his balls and caress him.

I feel a jolt go through his body like a lightning bolt and a deep moan escapes from his mouth as he places both his hands on either side of me against the rock.

“Does my touch bring you pleasure?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes.” His voice is husky with desire and need.

“Then show me how I can pleasure you more. How can I bring you release?”

He places his hand over mine, applies a light pressure and then proceeds to move it up and down, along the length of him. After a few strokes I sense a rhythm and move to it. His hand falls away.

“That’s it, you’ve got it,” he pants into my ear as he places his hands back on the rock. I continue making firm strokes and am astounded at the response in him. He grips the rock and groans and soon he is thrusting into my hand. I slow for a second, not sure what is happening and if he is trying to escape my touch.

“Don’t stop!” he commands. “By all the gods in all the heavens, Elinor, please don’t stop.”

I resume my stroking of his manhood and his thrusts pick up in pace. I squeeze a little tighter, trying to hold onto him and he cries out.

“Faster,” he rasps against the bare flesh of my shoulder and I increase the speed of my strokes.

He thrusts, moans and groans against me, his breathing shallow and fast. I stroke him, all the time increasing my speed, and I can feel a pressure building in him. His body is up against mine and his nipple is within kissing distance so I place my lips against it and kiss it. This causes him to jerk violently and for some reason I find this thrills me. I kiss his nipple again and this time I suck on it like he sucked on me. He jerks again and this time his thrusts take on a new fervency and then he is jerking almost uncontrollably and he throws his head back and lets out a roar to the sky.

I feel a warm sticky substance running over my fingers and look down to see his seed pouring forth from his manhood. I can’t quite believe how much of it there is! His manhood pulses between my fingers and it seems his body is consumedwith waves of pleasure. Still his seed keeps coming and I can’t help wondering if Ellerban men produce more of it than their Ardvallan counterparts.

Finally, he falls against me, his body spent, and it seems he needs the rock to give him support. He cups my face in his hand and stares into my eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers before placing a gentle kiss upon my lips.

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