Page 19 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

“Clever answer.” I crook my finger for her to come to me.

Proving herself right, she obeys. Small and tentative steps bring her closer. Her long, blonde locks sway with her movement.

Memories of those beautiful strands splayed out on my bed flash in my mind and the fog creeps in. Blood flows below my belt and my mouth waters with hunger.

She glares at me and huffs a breath. Her scent swirls in the air, traveling straight to my mind.

“How are you after last night? I didn’t expect you to come looking for me so soon. Glad to see you’re ready for round two.”

Her jaw clenches and she glances away. A frown stretches her lips as she turns.

My hand snaps out, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her against me, her back pressing into my taut abs. As she struggles, my other hand caresses her jaw, turning her ear up to my lips. “Not tamed yet?” Good. “Do I need to break you in front of my men? Would you like that? Your legs spread wide as my cock splits you in half.” My fingers squeeze her delicate features and my tongue slides up her neck.

Her body falls into me for a fraction of a second. If not for the tiny moan that escapes her, I’d have thought I imagined it.

“You want that. Don’t you? You want them to watch as I fold you in half and fuck you into the ground. You want them to see how I dominate you.”

She slaps my bloody hand from her chin. “You’re a beast!”

The way her lips work to insult me only pulls on the fog in my mind, raises my blood level, and coaxes my lust to a new maddening level.

I yank her hard against me, arms pressing her into my chest. Her shuddered gasp only serves to get me harder. “Go ahead, struggle.”

She pushes and writhes against me, but I don’t budge. She fights like a likar with sharp claws and wild hisses. She’s lucky I found her. She’s lucky I can take her little outbursts. She’s lucky I love it.

I twist her face up to mine, pressing our lips together hard enough to bruise.

She squeals in her throat and slaps my bulging shoulders, but when my grip loosens and I slip my tongue between her lips, she turns her body to mine, pressing up against me and sliding her tongue over mine. Her hands move from my shoulders to my neck, fingers lacing through my black hair. Her lips snarl, and every time she starts to turn her face from mine, she snaps right back, deepening the kiss.

My hands roam over her body. When one finds its home cradling her head, wrapped in her golden locks, the other pulls on her ass.

The fog moves over my mind. I’m either going to go back to my men and kill two or three more to sate my need, or I’m going to rip this woman’s dress and dive into her needy pussy.

Who am I kidding? Even if I killed my entire sparring group, it wouldn’t satiate like she can. Let’s see if last night was a fluke.

I lift her up over the railing and sit her on it. Her knees clamp together, but part of my body is leaning in on her.

The noise behind me fades and I bare my teeth. Damn responsibility. I pull from the kiss to glance over my shoulder at the men all watching me.“I’m not hearing sparring!”

They go back to punching and kicking each other, but when I turn back to Dalia, her emeralds glitter with defiance.

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