Page 10 of The Dark Elf's Surprise Baby

And the voice only opines what I really think.

That I am not worthy of Demethys Herahi.

I push the thoughts out of my head as he settles on my lap, and stares up the stars. His rich, dark blue eyes are almost the same shade as the night sky.

I pull his white hair out of its braid, and start stroking his temples and head.

His hair is beautiful; silky, soft, and fine.

Sometimes I cannot believe that this is my life now. I cannot believe that I am with the man of my dreams, no matter how I feel about myself.

I also know that I need to let go of my doubts. Because Demethys has never done anything to make me believe that he does not want me.

I do not know how long we sit underneath the stars. The night becomes darker and deeper and wider.

I cannot help but feel that if we stay underneath the sky long enough, that the night will swallow us up into the dark blues and bright silvers of the night.

But then, pulling away from me, Demethys takes me into his arms.

The kiss, when he kisses me, is soft and hesitant. His hands go to my waist, lifting me onto his lap.

Then one of his hands go to the back of my neck, while the other cups my cheek.

The kiss feels like an apology at first. An apology for staying away as long as he did. Then it deepens, as we get to know each other again.

It is as though we are testing whether the other is still attracted to us. As if any amount of time passing could remove Demethys from my heart.

The kiss becomes more urgent suddenly, and I am reaching for him like I never have before.

I am reaching for him with confidence that I did not know I have.

My breath comes out in moans as his hands wander lower and lower, lifting up the skirt of my dress.

His hands are warm and big and firm. It is only when he is cradling me in his lap that I realize how large he really is.

I lean into him, leaning into the kiss, and I know he feels my arousal in the way my body throbs underneath his touch.

He stands then, scooping me into his arms, making a sound that is crossways between a groan and a growl.

The servants are nowhere to be seen – they have probably all retired for the night – as Demethys walks into the ground floor of the mansion from the hallway.

I pull away from the kiss then, and I know my lips must be swollen and red from it.

“Put me down.” The words come out soft, my voice huskier than it has ever been. He does what I say, and I take his hand in mine.

I pull him behind me, walking with more confidence than I ever have before. I lead him briskly to the large, master bedroom on the ground floor.

It is one of six bedrooms and is at the very back of the house, furthest away from the servants’ quarters.

Demethys picks me up again when the door comes into view, and I lean into another kiss as he kicks the door open.

He heads straight to the bed, places me gently on it, then turns to close the door.

My body is warm, hot even, and my thighs are slick with my arousal. My breathing is shallow and I lick my lips with need as Demethys turns back to me.

He places his hands on my hips and pulls me gently towards the edge of the bed. His lips are soft and full when they meet mine again and again.

I am pulling his shirt off before I know it, while he carefully unbuttons the back of my dress.

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