Page 121 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
His shoulders ease with relief when I don’t move. He starts working on my foot immediately. I quiver despite the warmth of him searing onto my skin.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say flatly, crossing my arms.
“Where does it hurt?” he asks, ignoring me. “Here?”
A strange shiver dances on my skin when he massages my calf. His hands are rough with callouses gained from centuries worth of battle.
I quickly realize that my thin, sheer nightgown does nothing to hide the wretched mark of the Rhunhraefn. I’m scared he’ll have the same reaction as yesterday. But Svenn barely cares about the tattoo today. His focus is entirely on me.
“Look at me, Nel,” he demands.
I meet his harsh stare. I’m surprised to see his sharp, hard edges have softened a shade.
“Tell me how I can help you,” he asks again in a gentle voice I didn’t think someone like him was capable of making. “Show me where it hurts.”
My heartbeat spikes as I consider his request. Slowly, I point to my knee and my thigh.
He gives a curt nod of understanding. His hand slides up smoothly to my inner thigh, kneading the muscle there. It climbs to my hip bone and a yelp escapes me.
“Another tender spot?” he asks, studying the joint with expert concentration. “The ache is worse at the end of the day after you pretend to walk normally?”
I nod at his assessment.
He continues stretching my leg, testing every tendon and ligament. I can almost feel the pain seeping out of me slowly. I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers rubbing my sore muscles. It feels so good but watching him work helps with the healing even better. That coal-black hair is just begging for me to run my fingers through it now.
As if he can read into my thoughts, his touches soon turn a little too wicked. A deep moan leaves me when his thumb glides higher up my thigh.
“Svenn?” My eyes snap to him for answers, but he looks completely innocent and focused on his work. I’m the one panting like a pervert over a simple massage.
“Is the pressure alright with you?” he asks without feeling.
I nod a little too eagerly.
His hand trails higher right to the center of me, tracing lazy circles. He keeps teasing me to the point where I start to writhe.
My fists clench on either side of the armchair, turning my knuckles white. I want to touch him. I want to touch him so bad.
His fingers move to my clit, circling fast and intense. The rapid movement plunges me into the realm of overwhelming pleasure. I spring forward to bury my hands in his hair, clawing for whatever support he can give. The muffled sound of his harsh breathing against my skin throws me closer to my release.
Just when I think I’m about to explode, he presses hard, forcing me to come so violently. Pleasure cascades through my body in pulsating waves.
“You’re alright,” he says, stroking my lower back to soothe me.
My toes curl as the last flutter of my release dissipates.
I start to pull away but his grip on me tightens.
“Stay,” he whispers to my chest. “Don’t let me go, Nel.”
Just hearing him say that makes it hard to breathe. I wrap my arms over his muscular back, draping myself over him. Only the rasping sound of our breathing fills the room along with our thundering heartbeats. I feel his body rising and falling with each breath just as surely as he is feeling mine. It takes a long time for us to calm down and peel ourselves apart.
My heart flutters wildly in my chest the moment I see his flushed face. That look of hunger and longing burns me to ashes.
This means nothing, I remind myself. He is compelled to touch me the same way I was desperate for him yesterday.
“Rhianelle,” he starts.
“It’s our messed up Arawynn bond. I understand,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Once we get to Aelfheim, I will ask the Head Priestess how to stop this.”
