Page 85 of Kissing Potions and Elves
My breath quickens as he looks up at me, his pupils blown wide. “May I kiss you here, Isobel?” he asks, voice rough with need.
A flutter of anxious uncertainty rises within. I’ve overheard women speaking of doing this to men, but I’ve never heard it the other way around. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do,” I admit, embarrassment scalding my cheeks. “Is this some sort of… Elvish thing?”
“I’ve never done this either, but I don’t believe it’s specific to my kind.” He presses a tender kiss to my thigh. “But your scent is driving me mad,” he whispers. “I long to taste you. Will you allow this, my Isobel?”
Somehow, I manage to nod.
He lowers his head back down, brushing slow, reverent kisses along my inner thighs as he moves closer to my core. When he dips his tongue between my slick folds, I inhale sharply as desire coils deep within.
I gasp and arch into his touch when he reaches the small bundle of nerves at the top, grasping his thick silken hair as exquisite sensations cascade through me.
I’ve touched myself before, but it’s never felt anything like this. Every soft, deliberate stroke of his tongue builds a fierce heat, spiraling tighter and tighter inside me.
Encouraged by my response, he concentrates on the sensitive pearl of flesh that makes my entire body light up with pleasure. My breath hitches as my body quivers, poised on the brink of ecstasy.
“Lyrion.” I cry out his name as my release washes through me in wave after wave of pure bliss.
I’m still coming down from the intensity of my climax when he moves back up my body. Hisstavis a hard bar between us as he captures my lips again in a tender kiss.
I dip my hand under the waistband of his pants. He groans as I trace my fingers over his length to explore him. It’s covered in a series of hard ridges and he’s so large, I’m surprised when my fingers do not quite touch when I try to wrap them around his girth.
A warm bead of liquid gathers on the end and he growls low in arousal as I brush my thumb across it.
He captures my wrist, pulling my hand away with a low groan. Panting heavily, he stares down at me, his eyes pitch black with desire. “We must stop, Isobel,” he rasps. “Or I will be tempted to claim you fully.”
Softly biting my lower lip, I nod.
Lyrion drops to his side and gathers me close. He curls his body protectively around me, his breath warm against my hair.
He presses a tender kiss to my temple and I rest my head on his chest. Closing my eyes, I listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear as I drift away into sleep.
CHAPTER 43
ISOBEL
Warm sunlight fills the kitchen as I prepare a tray with a few slices of honey cake and lavender tea.
Lyrion has been working diligently on his book today, and I doubt he’s taken any time to eat or drink anything. Rhystan’s been helping him as well, and I thought it would be nice to bring them some food.
I’ve never felt so happy. I think of the way he smiled at me this morning, when I woke in his arms, and the soft look in his eyes before he pressed a lingering kiss to my lips.
A sharp knock sounds at the front door, startling me from my thoughts. Curious, I hurry toward the entrance.
When I open it, I’m greeted by a stunning Elf woman, tall and slender, with green eyes and blond hair. It’s intricately styled into two delicate braids tied back and adorned with tiny glittering gems while the rest hangs loose, cascading down her back like molten gold.
Her red Elven dress tunic and pants hug her body perfectly, accentuating every graceful line. She is as stunning as she is intimidating.
She eyes me briefly, barely registering my presence as she thrusts her elegant cloak into my arms without a second thought. “You’re new. When did he hire you?” she asks, mistaking me for a servant.
I stare at her, speechless, my face burning at her dismissive tone. Before I can correct her, she continues, “Never mind, just tell me where Lyrion is.”
Something inside me bristles. “Excuse me, but… who are you exactly?”
Her icy gaze locks onto mine, an elegant brow arching in subtle disbelief. “I am Lady Elyssia. Lord Lyrion’s betrothed.”
Her words land like a brutal slap.Betrothed?I gaze at her in confusion. Surely, I heard her wrong. I open my mouth, but I cannot seem to find the words to speak.
“Lady Elyssia?” Hilda’s surprised voice carries from behind me, and I turn to find her standing frozen in the hallway, eyes wide.
