Page 20 of Tristan
He’s also mine.
It’s a sudden feeling that grips me, courses through me. It must be the Elven magic. I feel like he’s my possession as much as I am his.He might hold the leash and all the authority between us, but he’s mine too, and I’ll make sure he knows it.
He collapses on top of me. He’s panting; I’m panting, and I wish he’d get off me. The weight of him grounds me and keeps me in the present so I can’t fly away in my mind. We stay like that for some time until my silent wish is answered. He rolls off of me taking his cock with him. We both lie on our backs and stare at the ceiling. I feel a comfort between us like we’ve known each other a hundred years, yet I don’t remember a day. My feelings of hatred aren’t gone, they’re full force, except now I feel I can tell him.
“I hate you.”
I expect the creature from before to return, but he doesn’t. Instead, I hear Corrik’s soft voice, the one he used earlier, drift regretfully over to me.
“I know.” His cuffed hand finds my cuffed hand, and he squeezes and rubs his thumb over my wedding ring. We lay like that for the Gods only know how long. Come is leaking from my ass, come is splattered all over my stomach. I should feel dirty, but I don’t. I’m not going to bother to ask him to get up with me to clean. I’m going to close my eyes, fall asleep and worry about it in the morning. It’s come, not toxic waste.
He doesn’t agree that we should fall asleep like this. He stirs beside me, then he’s tracing over my body with a warm, wet cloth, using all the care in the world.
“Corrik, where on Earth?” First, there’s handy lubricant and now warm towels? How convenient.
Corrik waggles his eyebrows trying too hard to be impish when he’s clearly still pensive.
“Someone thought we’d need these. Most likely someone from my side of the family,” he says.
Of course—bloody, kinky, Elves.
He takes care as he cleans me, but there’s no more quarter smiles from my Elven prince—he’s still thinking about whatever it is he’s been thinking about since the end of our mating. When he’s finishedcleaning us both, he returns to his position beside me and resumes his silence. Now I’m going to find it impossible to sleep. I wish he would’ve left me alone. That way I could continue thinking about what a domineering ass he is, but now I’m confused.He cares enough to take care of me—if I didn’t matter to him, he would’ve just left me, right?
He rolls over on his side to face me so he’s over top of me, while I stare at the ceiling. His fingers trace the small bruises on my hips where his fingers gripped me tightly.
Their existence seems to calm him—he visibly relaxes. “Close your eyes, Tristan,” he orders.
I don’t want to, but I also don’t want to provoke him again for his sake. He seems more affected by it than I am. He continues to trace the marks on my hips, and he knows that though my eyes are closed, I’m not asleep. His voice sings in my ear, a haunting Elvish lullaby. I can’t understand a lick of it, but the melody is calming. Calming enough for me to drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER 6
Like a guard dog, I jump up out of bed the moment I hear the latch from the bedroom door click open and just as quickly as I jump up, I’m pulled back down. I’m still handcuffed to a large Elf and somehow through the night I’ve ended up spooned against him. I blush hotly as I think of the night before. It wasn’t all petals and honey, but it was still bloody fantastic. I wince as the light of the early dawn shines through the window and into my eyes. Corrik jumps when I pull on him. The person assaulting our door enters; it’s Uncle Fera—what is he doing here?
“Well, well nephew. What a prize you’ve acquired. Will I get to borrow him? Sometime in the near future perhaps?”
Still sleepy, it takes me a moment to process his words and realize I’m indecent.Have these Elves never heard of privacy?I’m not skittish about being naked in front of people but being naked in this intimate a fashion with my partner is of a different nature. Corrik pulls me into him and growls at his uncle as he hastily covers me with a blanket.
“He’s not going to be shared. Remove the cuffs and be gone,” he says.
Fera smiles, unaffected by his nephew’s grunting. As Fera moves closer, I draw back into Corrik on instinct—an interesting contradiction—but his words are worrisome. Is that what Elves do? Pass their mates around?For once I’m glad of Corrik’s inherent possessiveness.
“Look Corrik, all of those worries for nothing. It seems he doesn’t want to be free of you just yet.”
As I scuttle back against Corrik, the irony is not lost upon me. I’m depending on Corrik—the man I’ve resented for a year—to protect me from dangers unknown: his uncle. This is ridiculous. I’m son of the Markaytian warlord, not some frightened little bunny. I stare at Uncle Fera with a dare in my eyes.Try to have a turn with me and your cock will find its way to the bottom of the ocean.He laughs at me. I know I’m no threat to him, and it’s clear he thinks I’m cute. Yuck. At least he finally pulls the chain holding the key over his neck and unlocks the cuffs.
“You have a lovely cock,” he compliments as casually as one would comment on the weather in Markaytia. I expect Corrik to come to my aid again, but instead he smiles as much as Corrik smiles, in agreement, like I’m a prize-winning hog. I’ll skewer the both of them—just wait till I get my hands on a sword because I will despite Corrik’s restrictions. Fera pauses, a mixture of shock and happiness blooms on his face.
“I see you’ve already marked him—very good.”
Is that a thing?
Corrik changes the subject. “When should we be ready, Uncle? I’m anxious to get home.” To getmehome, he means—I can read between the lines. And I can also see he’s working hard to hide something from me. He’s terrible at it. I don’t think he’s let anyone else in on what he intends to keep from me. His parents and now his uncle almost give him away.
“We shall enjoy breakfast with our Kathir’s family and then we’ll depart. Is that soon enough for you, Nephew?”
Corrik nods and his uncle leaves. Alone and uncuffed from one another, I’m finally able to push myself away from the great war Elf.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He pushes up casually onto an elbow. I try to decipher his mood; it doesn’t look good. Is he still upset over the way things went last night? Why brood over it? It’s not like much can be done about it unless he’s a time travelling Elf? I doubt it.
