Page 10 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

Etheron

Ibring the human female back to my home.

She kicks and screams the entire way, causing me to smack her a few more times in order to not draw so much attention to us. In my mind though, it excites me. I love the fire this woman has inside of her, burning to reach the surface and scorch the earth around her with her wrath.

I can’t wait to sink my teeth into that soft skin at her neck and claim her.

I set her down once one of my servants opens the door to greet me, eyes widening once they see what I have thrown over my shoulder.

My estate isn’t overly large but it’s certainly roomy—just the way I like it. It gave me enough space to not run into any of my guests if I’m ever forced to host them or my servants who run around making sure everything is clean and food is on my table.

Bending down, I unstrap the cording around the woman’s ankles and tug the bag off of her body. She stumbles, putting a hand up at the sudden bright lights shining in her face. Her beautiful blonde hair is messy and tangled, hiding the side of her face from view.

My fingers itch to reach over and brush it back so that I could feel the soft texture of it over my skin.

“Where… where am I?” she looks around.

“My home.” I hold out the bag to one of my butlers, waiting for them to take it from me before straightening my jacket. “You’ll be staying here from now on.”

A scowl crosses that pretty face of hers, making her look petulant.

Her eyes roaming from my waist up to my chest then neck. I can see the flames burning behind her eyes, knowing exactly what she sees when she looks at me. I know I’m attractive; I’m in the army and have the body to show for it. Plus my face is conventionally handsome.

When her eyes lift to mine, they widen slightly. Her throat bobs, catching my attention immediately.

“What’s your name,” my question comes out more as a demand.

Her shoulders tense. “D…Dalia.”

“Dalia…” I test the name on my tongue, liking how it rolls smoothly off of it. “Hm.”

I turn and wave a few of my servants over who have all gathered at the base of the stairway leading up to the bedrooms. They file over uniformly, lining up in front of me with their heads bowed respectively and their hands tucked in front of their waists.

“Get her upstairs and wash her. And find something for her to wear other than those scraps.”

“Yes, sir.” they echo back to me.

Dalia tenses again when my servants crowd around her, but they lead her away from me with gentle hands and soft words. She turns back to look at me over her shoulder while she ascends the steps, curiosity blooming behind those pretty eyes of hers.

I smirk slowly, not bothering to hide it.

As soon as she is cleaned and dressed properly, I’ll take her to my room and bend her over my bed. I’ll see how well the slave house trained her and if that fierce passion is still blazing within her once I’mthrough.

* * *

By the time my servants come back down to tell me that Dalia is ready, I’ve already eaten and gone through most of the paperwork that I’d been neglecting over the past few days.

I wave my hand at the servants and wait for them to scatter out of my office before tossing the folder of documents and stretching. My body hums with the need to march upstairs and throw open the door to Dalia’s room, but I decide to take my time getting up there.

The anticipation is sometimes a sweeter thrill.

I lock my office behind me and pocket the key. Now that I have a new guest in my house, I’ll need to make sure that all of my valuables are safely secured from wandering eyes and sticky fingers. I’m no fool, I know that if the opportunity presents itself, Dalia will run.

Hopefully tonight will change her mind about doing just that, though.

I make my way upstairs, the last of my servants duck their heads as they pass me and hurry back to their quarters to leave us alone for the night. A smart move, seeing as how any distraction will immediately anger me.

I find Dalia’s room, the door partially cracked, and step inside.

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