Page 46 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

Dalia

Ihold his face, caressing his lips with my own.

His hands rove over my body, and even though there’s no pulling on his part, I’m drawn deeper into the kiss. His lips beg, his tongue pleads, and his heart cries out to me.

Silent tears flow from my eyes, mingling with his on our cheeks. I’m not even sure why I’m crying so much. Is it because this kiss feels so real? Is it because this man has laid his heart bare? Is it because I’m fooling myself again, overestimating my importance?

I don’t care. Regardless of the reason, this kiss, this marvelous, soul shaping kiss, is happening.

It bends and twists me like a sword in the flame of a forge. Down to my very core, it reaches in and molds me into what Etheron needs. I’m a slave to him, but I know I can be more. There’s something in this kiss that whispers he knows I can be more as well.

On his knees, he’s the same height as me. The change is less like an equalizer and more like a power shift. Even if we’re eye to eye, this man, this dark elf, is on his knees before me. My heart sings with power that it’s never known before. Yet there’s a weight with that power that keeps my feet grounded, a responsibility to the man who’s given me this power.

What is it he’s asking of me?What is it that I can give the man who has everything? Power, wealth, magic, influence, he has it all.

His fingers cradle the back of my head, lacing through my hair. My body tenses, waiting for him to grip me, yank my head back, stand up, and take over this kiss…but he doesn’t. He holds me. The embrace encourages me to continue, to go deeper, down into the depths that only love can reach.

But isn’t this wrong?A man of his position couldn’t love me, and he certainly doesn’t want me loving him. He only wants me in awe of him. He wants me to be obedient. Submissive. Right? He couldn’t possibly want anything deeper than the physical.

This kiss though. It's barely physical at all. The touches are so light, so gentle. The wind is stronger than his hands or lips. Yet an earthquake can’t compare to the rush. This connection between us. Is this what magic feels like?

My heart pounds in my chest like thunder. Adrenaline lights my veins on fire, igniting my core. It burns away my fears, purifying my heart like gold to the point that I don’t care if it’s wrong or right. I don’t care if I get in trouble. I feel what I feel, there’s no changing that. Love for this man digs roots into my heart. He’s all I’ve ever wanted in life. Protection, security, vulnerability. Someone honest with who they are.

He might be dangerous to others, but he’d never hurt me. He caresses my body with the hands of a brutal warrior, but he’s able to restrain himself to the barest of whispers.

I pull back from our kiss, letting my head rest against his. I take a breath that fills my lungs as if I haven’t breathed in years. “Take me to bed.”

He grins. Such a cocky, winner’s grin that would have infuriated me just yesterday. Now, it only stokes my fires. He is a winner, and I have him. He stands and takes my hand as he plants one more kiss on my lips.

We walk back to the manor, through the halls and into his bedchambers.

I start to take my dress off, but he stops me with gentle hands. “I want to.” His normally cold, gray eyes hold warmth, and a face that I’m used to being hard enough to cut stone suddenly turns soft and welcoming.

My heart cries out for him. It needs him, and not just in this one moment. I need to be with him forever. Whatever that might look like, I’ll do it.

His hands glide over my shoulders, pulling the fabric down my arms. The top falls to my waist, and he bends down to one knee, placing us eye to eye. He holds me with those eyes as he reaches behind me to unhook the back.

The dress slides over my hips down to the floor and Etheron pulls me against him. His lips take mine in a tight embrace before he lifts me from the floor, cradling me in his large arms.

He lays me on his bed, placing one knee next to me. He straightens and unbuttons his cuffs, gazing down at me. Hunger lurks in his eyes, but it’s not like before, it’s not the vicious hunger that only seeks to be sated. This hunger looks to taste, to savor its meal in slow, glorious fashion.

I spring up to unbutton the centerline, taking my time to revel in every revealing of tattooed skin. I go straight from the shirt to his pants. His manhood springs free, and even after having him in me twice, my breath catches at the sight.

He steps back to let his shirt and pants fall to the floor before returning to the sheets on his knees. One hand takes hold of my neck at the base of my skull, while the other reaches between my thighs.

I gasp, a sharp intake of air as the pressure of his fingers shoots my arousal into the clouds. “Ohh, Etheron.” My hands grip his forearm. Not to stop him, but to feel the power in his arm. He starts to lay me back down, but I reach out to his erection. “Please. I want to taste you.”

He nods and switches hands, the one at my head lowers to slip under my butt, pressing two fingers into my wet folds while the other moves to my head, guiding me straight to his lengthy member.

I take him into my mouth, nabella infused tiphe wood explodes over my tongue. I moan, partially due to his fingers massaging me, but also the fact that his taste boasts such strength. Everything about him exudes power, of course the taste of his cock does as well.

He grunts like a worg. “Dalia.” His breathing turns heavy as his hands flex.

I take him deeper in my mouth. There’s no way I’m fitting all of him, but I get as much as I can. I bob up and down while stroking the bottom half of his shaft.

“Dalia, please.” The words strain in his throat. His hand in my hair tightens and he guides me off. “I need to be in you.”

I peer up at him with a sly smile. “You were in me.”

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