Page 42 of The Dark Elf's Surprise Baby

HARPER

Gods! His kisses are just as potent and mind-melting as they were before! I can’t help the moan that escapes me when his tongue traces the seam of my lip, seeking entrance.

I immediately give him what he wants, opening up for him as I run my fingers through his hair, tugging on the white strands. It’s even longer than before, somehow. They feel so soft, so silky and oh-so-familiar. It really is him.

I can’t stop kissing him, I’m desperate for him and hungry and eager to be wrapped around him once again. Our tongues battle for dominance, neither of us willing to give up control. I’ve grown in the time away from him and I’m no longer quite so timid or shy as I used to be.

I’m unwilling to let go of him either, so he’s just going to have to get used to letting me have more control. My desire for him is nigh unquenchable, uncontrollable. I have to have him right now.

It’s as though my brain thinks that if I don’t, I’ll lose him again. After four years...it seems almost impossible to believe that he’s back. I don’t know if I can truly believe it. I still thinkI’m in a dream—that I’ll wake up tomorrow morning, alone in my island bungalow, with Addie pushing and prodding at me to take her to her lessons.

“Demethys,” I breathe his name in a reverent whisper, like a prayer falling from my lips. He looks at me for a long moment before pulling me to him again and kissing the life out of me. Gods I missed him! I thought he was dead, so to see him like this, come back to life...it’s doing things to me internally.

I want to scream or sob or pinch myself until I wake up. I want to drown in his eyes. I want to bury myself in his arms and never let go again.

His mouth is kissing my neck just the way he used to and it’s so good, so wonderfully right and perfect. Fuck! It’s as though my world was in muted tones of gray in the years since I was gone and now I’ve woken up in a world of vivid, bright colors and I can see again.

I tried so hard to truly live for the sake of Addie but I know I spent so long walking through a fog. Having Demethys ripped away from me just as I found out I was pregnant with her was too much to bear.

His hands move so they’re tangled in my hair now, pulling us closer than close, our bodies pressed together so tightly there’s not a lick of space between us. His tongue is dominating mine now, exploring every nook and cranny of my mouth as though he’s afraid something might have changed.

I know he’s drunk but I don’t care. We can talk more when he’s sober in the morning. Right now I need to feel him under me, touching me, caressing me, making me feel as alive as I did when he took me the first time.

Demethys’ hands are everywhere now, touching my chest, my thighs, rubbing over my hips, running fingers through my hair...he’s reacquainting himself with me all over again. I shift and grind against him, panting and flushed as he touches me.

I’m sure I look like a thoroughly debauched mess right now. My hair is probably a mess, my lips are swollen and kiss-bitten, my clothes are likely rumpled...but I don’t care. Let everyone see me looking like this. Let them think what they want.

I don’t care. I have Demethys back in my arms now and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. All that matters is that he’s back and he’s really here and alive and I can’t get enough of him.

“Oh gods,” I moan as he begins to nibble my earlobe. “You’re really here,” I breathe. “You’re here, you’re really here.” I can’t help the few tears that leak out.

“Shh,” he hushes me. “Yes I am. It’s me. I’m here. I’m right here with you,” he says, soothing my agitated heart. He runs his fingers over my shoulders, down my arms and links them with mine so we’re holding hands.

“See?” he says. “Really here.”

I don’t know if he knows why I left. Maybe it’s not important. He’s here right now and he wants me just as much as I want him and I’m determined to keep him this time.

He moves down to kiss my neck, making my head loll back. “Gods,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers in my ear, deep voice sending shivers down my spine. What I wouldn’t give to go back and tell past me that he’s alive. That I don’t have to give up on ever having my love with me again.

I wouldn’t have had to move away to the islands. I wouldn’t have had to see Layla reunite with Kerym and felt nothing but despair that I would ever be with Demethys again. I could have been living with him all this time!

It hurts me deep inside. What happened? Did Bryrion lie to me or was there some kind of mistake? I can’t imagine she would lie. She was my friend, she wouldn’t have lied. So there must have been a mistake.

I want to stop him, pull away and ask him what happened. How did he survive? Was he mortally wounded and thought to be dead?

But the moment his hands start moving up, massaging over my thighs, my head empties and I lose my thoughts.

His fingers are like magical entities of their own, the way they move and caress my sensitive flesh. My dress is moved to the side so Demethys can inch his way up them, between my legs and pet over the clothed mound of flesh there.

“No,” I whisper. “Not here. Not right now.” He pulls away, a hurt look in his navy blue eyes. I reach out, trying to reassure him that I want him so very badly but I don’t want to go further than that just yet. We have a lot to talk about first.

He goes pale, his eyes widening in shock. He looks as though I’ve punched him in the gut. “Why?” he asks.

“Because now isn’t the time,” I tell him. His hands serpent back out, as they used to when I would teasingly deny him, pulling me closer by the hips. I can’t let him touch me yet. Not when he doesn’t know the truth. Not when he doesn’t know about our daughter.

We can’t just get lost in the throes of passion and not discuss the important things. Such as why he let me think he was dead. Why he only sought me out now. How he survived when he wassupposedto be dead.

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