Page 54 of Enchanting the Elf
Lazy eyes open languidly, and Florence stares at me with fully dilated pupils, a hunger in her eyes that matches my own.
“Give me more,” Florence breathes and licks her lips.
I reposition myself so I’m kneeling, and Florence’s eyes move to the evidence of my arousal outlined against my leg. I should have listened to her and worn more comfortable pants because this cannot be good for blood flow. It won’t deter me though.
Doing something I have longed to do since I met her, I trace the cupid’s bow of her upper lip with the index finger of my mage hand.
Voice husky with desire, I say, “These lips.” I am unable to form a more complex sentence as all my brain power has been redirected to my cock.
Florence’s lips part and she moves her head slowly, sultry gaze fixed on mine while I keep the mage hand absolutely still, letting her trace her own lips with my magic.
I am really enjoying this side of Florence—a bolder side, freer to act and take what she wants. I wish she would demand more from me, both now and in our everyday lives.
Emboldened by Florence’s easy reception of my touch, I skim a single digit down from her lips, over her chin, down her elegant neck, her chest, and pause when I reach the material of her dress, right above her cleavage.
My breathing is labored and fire licks at my skin with the crackling tension between us.
With a voice full of heat, Florence demands, “Don’t stop now.” Then she quickly adds in a more sober tone, “Unless you want to, of course.”
My heartbeat picks up, pounding a steady rhythm, spurring me on.
“I don’t want to stop. May I remove your dress, Florence?” I rasp out.
“I think it’s safe to say my answer is yes to anything you want to do right now,” Florence says as she arches her back toward me.
Unable to resist any longer, I hook a phantom finger over her dress and pull it down until a breast pops free.
I groan at the sight, my mouth watering with a desire to taste her.
My gaze flicks up to Florence’s, and I swallow down all the filthy things I want to say. There’s something so fragile in this heated moment between us and I don’t want to break it. Keeping my focus on her eyes, I drag my mage finger around the underside of her exposed breast and move across to her other one to lower the material there so both are free to the elements.
“Pure perfection,” I whisper in reverence as I stare at her laid out before me. Her breasts are small and pert, with rosy nipples jutting forward, begging to be played with, tugged on, sucked.
If I were an artist, out of all the sights in the world, this would be the one I want to capture, immortalizing it for my viewing pleasure whenever I please.
Florence leans back on her arms, her long golden hair hanging free behind her, head thrown back but eyes trained on me. With her back bowed like this, her body looks like a delicious feast offered especially for me. I want to sink my teeth into every inch of her, taste her, devour her.
The purple of Florence’s dress, the white of the blanket, the green of the grass, and the first hints of yellow in some of the trees form the most exquisite palette that will be imprinted on my brain for the rest of time. I wonder if I could ask her to make me a piece of art so I won’t forget any of this.
“Touch me, Adelbert.” There’s a light demand in Florence’s tone, though her need and arousal press against me, commanding me to keep going. I have no intention of fighting my desire today.
“Like this?” I ask and cup one of Florence’s breasts, gently kneading the flesh with my magic. I marvel at how much I can feel and do with her. My power is so much stronger in this moment than I have felt in my life.
Feeling confident that I can do more, I move my thumb and forefinger and pluck a nipple.
Florence whimpers and I do it again. I roll her nipple between my fingers and tug on it, testing her reactions to see how much pressure she prefers. With my barriers down, I feel free to explore her body, knowing how much she is enjoying each touch.
With one particular pinch on her other nipple, Florence makes the most luscious mewling sound, causing precum to leak out of my cock, quite possibly leaving a wet spot on my pants. Though, in no way am I removing my gaze from the magnificent woman in front of me to check on something so inconsequential.
I bite down on my lip to keep myself present and in control so I don’t do something irresponsible like reach for Florence with my physical hands. I have such a strong desire to learn every inch of her body, to bring her pleasure, but I don’t want to overstep.
Are these thoughts because of the bond, because I want to explore my magic, or because of Florence?
This is hardly the time to get hung up on such thoughts, so I leave the option open for her to choose.
My voice comes out gravelly when I ask, “Do you want to stop here or keep going?”
“One thing you need to know about me, Adelbert, is that I don’t like edging. So if you are not planning on making me come right now, then you better be okay with me doing it myself.”
