Bound to the Prince by Deborah Court Page A

sweet
scent of her hair was almost too much. She was tall and strong
enough to carry his weight – he loved lying on top of her without
fearing to break her. Her full, tight breasts and the way she
shamelessly rubbed her hips against his body was almost more than
he could endure.
    But then she lifted her head and slowly
licked his throat with small, sensuous strokes of her tongue as if
he was the most delicious treat, tasting him. It was only centuries
of well-practiced self-restraint, that had held him back from
ripping away her clothing right then. Elathan wanted to enter her
hot wetness at once, thrusting into her slick channel until she
begged him for mercy. He could have spent an eternity licking her
soft skin in so many places, savoring her irresistible scent and
listening to her lustful moans.
    The woman could count herself lucky that he
had left before he took her and killed her with his desire. He had
been telling the truth when he said that she probably wouldn’t
survive the night with an elf. The men of his race tended to draw
all the strength out of a female’s body while making love to her.
If he controlled his desire and lay with a woman of the Fae, he
would just leave her weak for a while. Often a magic potion helped,
as long as the female had enough time to recover afterwards. But a
frail human woman’s body was not made for such an exertion. It
could prove too much if her mind and body weren’t strong enough and
had not been properly prepared. Especially this one. His desire for
her was overwhelming. He didn’t know if he could restrain himself
when they actually did join.
    Once, a very long time ago, the prince had
taken a human woman, a king’s daughter given to him as a present by
her father after Elathan defeated his army with his elven warriors.
He had been aroused after battle and was pleased to find a willing
female, even a human one, in the bed of his royal tent. After he
had pleasured her for hours and hours until she screamed with
ecstasy and could take no more, he was entirely spent and slept
like a stone. When he woke up the next morning, the girl lay beside
him on the silken pillows, pale and lifeless. He knew that her
human lifespan would have been short anyway. But her death saddened
him, for he had not wanted to take her life just to satisfy his
lust. He decided never to share his bed with a mortal woman
again.
    Until today. When the prince had smelled
Igraine, felt her, tasted her, it had become inevitable that they
would eventually mate. Igraine was his now, and she would come to
his bed very soon. The image of her naked body under him, her long
legs wrapped around his waist, made him harden and ache for her
even more. Damn, he wished he could go back into this cursed
chamber and take her right now. At the same time, his anger welled
up again. He wanted to punish her, let her suffer for the torment
she gave him. He wouldn't allow a weak, treacherous human to affect
him like this.
    The prince knew that using the human for his
carnal pleasure would be delightful indeed. He only hoped she would
survive it – if his training didn’t kill her first.
     
    * * * * *
    Igraine did not see Elathan
again for days. After their pole fight with the surprising outcome,
she had fallen down onto the bed, exhausted from the unfamiliar
physical strain. Her wound had closed, but she felt weak after the
blood loss. She slept for the rest of the day and the whole night.
When the elf came to tend to her injuries and bruises, she didn’t
notice.
    When she finally woke up, she felt terrible.
Not only her muscles, but every single part of her body seemed to
hurt. She couldn’t move without wincing. Slowly she stood up and
limped over to the table, where she was delighted to find a bowl
filled with fresh, hot water. She didn't care to wonder how the elf
could have heated it down here. Quickly she stepped out of her
torn, dirty clothes and washed her hair and body, sighing with
pleasure to feel clean again.