Page 73 of Dark Elf's Good Girl

“What did you say to me just now about being mine?” I ask, as I kiss her shoulders. She moans, especially when I move down and take a nipple in my mouth. “Tell me again.”

“That…That I was always yours,” she says.

Ah, the words are like nectar and I savor each of them. “That you were always mine,” I repeat.

“Always,” she breathes.

I pull back and press her against the bedpost, tilting my head as I see my new mate, perfect, flushed, aroused and tethered. In a flash I raise the dagger and plunge it into the wood above her head. She jumps in shock.

“Come now, you trust me, don’t you?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says, as I raise her arms and hook the fabric over the dagger, ensuring that it’s secured.

“I am a very lucky man,” I say both to myself and to her as I gaze at her hanging there. Then I step away so that I am in full view and begin to shed the rest of my attire, firstly kicking off my boots then losing my shirt and pants. She traces her eyes over me, and I can feel how much she wants me.

Moving slowly back towards her I take her chin and kiss her softly, opening her mouth with my tongue and owning it. She moans into me, and I can taste her desire. “Beautiful Isla,” I say.

Dropping to my knees I hook her leg over my shoulder and kiss the inside of her thigh, her moans getting deeper, longer. “You like this?” I tease.

“Yes… Please Aiken!” she cries.

“There now, you don’t need to beg… but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it,” I say against her skin. I look up at her, a wicked smile on my lips as she meets my gaze. “Keep looking at me,” I order as I place my mouth over her perfect sex. “Delicious,” I say. “As sweet as honey.”

Her leg begins to tremble as I eat at her, sucking gently on her sweet spot, running my tongue up and down her engorged slit. She’s crying out, my name always on her sweet lips and I can tell she is desperate for release.

I pick up her other leg so that both are now placed firmly over my shoulders, her back supported by the bedpost and her pussy is at my face. I moan against her hot flesh, drinking everything that she has, determined to make her scream until her voice is hoarse.

With every lick and suck she is closer and when she begins to tremble at my face, I know that I have succeeded. “Gods, Aiken,” she cries, and I’m sure that people for miles around must hear her screams as she cums at my mouth. I do my best to support her weight while also attempting to wring every last wave of pleasure from her.

Finally, she is begging me to stop, telling me she can take no more, and I smile and kiss the inside of her thighs again. She is spent, her body limp and I kiss her legs until she can breathe.

Gently I remove her legs from over my shoulders, then I reach up and unhook her wrists. She almost collapses against me and I pick her up as she wraps her legs around my waist and places her still-tethered hands over my head.

“I love you,” she says as I carry her, sitting on the bed and placing her on top of me. She kisses me deeply, and I lean back against the high wooden headboard and savor her kiss and the way her molten skin feels against mine.

“And I you,” I say, my hands on her hips. She rises and I notch myself at her drenched entrance, moaning when I sink into her. “Gods, you are so hot, so wet,” I say as she rides me, grinding down onto my cock, searching for everything I have.

Her arms are still around my neck, and her breasts tease my skin, her nipples hard against it. “My Isla,” I say as she works me, so caught up in the moment, it’s as though no one else exists. There’s just me and her and the new life we have together.

Her hips move fluidly, and I marvel at the creature that I can now call my mate, my wife. “That’s it,” I say as she writhes. “All the way.”

Her motions become quicker and I can start to feel the onset of my release as she envelops me with those hot walls, but not before they begin to beat and pulse around me.

“Oh, Aiken,” she moans as she reaches her peak.

This time her moans are low, deep, visceral and they only aid in pushing me over the edge. I cry out her name as I join her in ecstasy, my stomach clenching and releasing, my cock reaching high up inside her as I spill into her.

“Always your Isla,” she says as we both marinade in bliss.

Always my Isla.

31

FAHCI

The road leading into Orthani’s city center is smooth and flat, perfect for the magnificent carriage in which I ride. The seats are made of taura leather and dyed a rich purple in color. Silk blue curtains are drawn across the windows, peeled back ever so slightly to allow for light illuminating the carriage’s interior.

I glance upon the sketches of my next planned work of art, making rough notes here and there, envisioning the final image in my head. There comes the exclamations and cries of people outside. Rearing my head back, I have a peek outside.

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