Authors: Deborah Court
Virgin Dancer (14 page)
Continuing with his waist, she found some very nasty grime there, sticking to the prince’s skin. As she rubbed his sides to get them clean, Elathan seemed to wince. She paused, but when he said nothing, she rubbed some more. He winced again, apparently trying to escape her touch. At first she stared at his back, baffled for a moment. Maybe he didn't like her to touch him anymore. But then she understood.
The merciless, battle-hardened elven prince was ticklish.
Amazed by her discovery, she pondered about tickling him some more, but decided against it. She should not tempt her fate too much. Instead she reached around his waist and began to wash his wide chest, feeling his strong heartbeat and the heat of his skin. He was so tall that she had to press her body against his back to reach him with her arms. Moving down, she soaped his flat stomach, feeling the tense muscles under her fingertips. Elathan seemed to breathe more heavily now. For a moment, she asked herself what would happen if she dared to go even deeper, washing him … there. When she had finished and withdrew her arms, she glanced down at his butt. Heavens, this was too good to be true – so smooth, perfectly rounded and tight. She wondered if he would allow her to wash him there, too.
Suddenly a mischievous grin spread across her face. Well, even if he would kill her afterwards, this princely backside would be worth it. Now your ass is mine, Your Royal Highness, she thought. She just couldn’t help it. Then her hands touched his muscular buttocks, lathering the soap in small circles over the skin. Maybe being an elven prince's slave wasn't going to be so bad, after all. When Elathan moaned ever so softly, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. A small giggle escaped her lips.
Strong hands grabbed her upper arms. Igraine was whirled around until she stared directly into Elathan’s furious face, his golden eyes burning with anger. Before she could move or utter a sound, he picked her up like a weightless doll and threw her into the lake.
All of this happened so quickly that she didn't even have time to hold her breath. She sank into the dark water and struggled for a moment in panic. Then she managed to reach the surface and came up, coughing and gasping for air. Bewildered, she was still wondering what had happened when Elathan was suddenly in there with her, wading through the lake and quickly rinsing off the soap from his hair and body. His pitiless grin let her know that he found her distress entertaining.
"You!" she shouted angrily, shoving against his chest with both hands. The fact that his eyes widened with surprise gave her a certain amount of satisfaction, but not enough. "Prince or not, who the hell do you think you are? First you abduct and enslave me, threatening to kill me if I don't obey your every wish and whim. You hate humans, and still you don't bother to kill me. Instead, you seem to enjoy your little game of humiliating me. Why don't you finally get it over with, elf? You incredibly arrogant, insufferable…"
He grabbed her wrists and bent her arms behind her back with a swift movement. Simultaneously, he silenced her with a hard, passionate kiss.
*****
All rights reserved.
Excerpt from
Bound by Magic
, the upcoming novel by Deborah Court (Elven Warrior Trilogy, Book Two)
Elven sorcerer Calatin should have known that loving and leaving Medeia, the powerful female leader of Fearann's Guild of Magicians, would have consequences. Her curse strips him of his magic and tosses him into the human world. Bereft of all he once knew, Calatin finds a new
purpose in protecting a mortal woman in constant fear of her life. But will he be able to return to his own world, and regain the powers that were seized from him?
Adrienne, a young pharmacist, is a survivor. Since uncovering secrets she should never have known, she's forced to hide in a rural village - tracked down by ruthless killers, watched by the FBI. But will she learn to trust Cal, the strikingly handsome, but
apparently
crazy man she finds naked in her back garden? After all, he claims to have come from the lands of the Fae. Soon Adrienne will know that this realm of magic truly exists, and not only in the arms of her immortal lover ...
*****
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
The giant nest was cradled in the crown of an ancient tree, so high up in the clouds that it couldn't be seen from the ground. But even at such an early hour, the Enchanted Forest was already teaming and humming with life. Small animals rustled through the dense undergrowth, searching for food or hunting insects. A dragonfly with large, iridescent wings landed on the edge of the nest, drinking the morning dew from one of the oak's leaves.
A woman's lustful moans broke the silence, and the dragonfly sailed off to find a quieter place to rest while the nest vibrated and shook with movement. "Calatin," the female voice sighed. Deep male laughter followed. A sudden surge of magic exploded from the nest and drifted down to the ground like a golden cloud. It made the old tree vibrate from deep within, and its leaves shivered with pleasure. The woman cried out again, stricken with ecstasy. "Not again," she whimpered. "Have mercy with me, elf. Of all the King's warriors, I am sure that none can keep up with your stamina. You have been loving me all night. I can't take any more." She gasped as a sudden movement shook the nest. "Please," she shrieked, then changed her opinion, "yes, that's right! Don't you dare to stop now …"
"Oh, but he will", a cold, female voice interrupted the lovers, their bodies entangled in the soft, feather-filled nest. A black cloaked woman crouched over them on a large branch, blatant hatred in her eyes as she stared down at the couple, both naked and heated from their passionate game. The female was a petite, slender woman, her soft skin the deepest of blue while her hair was a radiant mixture of colors - crimson, purple and green. Her scarlet wings were folded against her back, to prevent them from getting crushed while she mated with her lover. She looked like a beautiful exotic bird, reborn in human form. Yet she was as immortal as the elf who gently pushed her away now, leaving her aroused and aching for his sweet torture to continue. Gracefully rising in one swift movement, he faced the intruder, shameless and proud in all his glorious nakedness.
Both women caught their breaths as their eyes devoured the whole of his magnificent body, highlighted so delightfully in the early morning sun which sent the first beams through the dense branches of the trees. He was the most perfect male either of them had ever beheld; long, tall and strong, broad-shouldered and sculpted with muscle.
"Medeia," he said, his eyes fixed on the uninvited guest who drew back the hood of her cloak, revealing a pale, narrow face and long, midnight black hair she wore over her shoulder in a thick braid. Her posture was rigid, her tall, athletic body radiating power. But her eyes were her most impressive attribute; they were very dark and sparkled with intelligence. He watched her beneath his own half-closed lids, seemingly unconcerned by her presence, which infuriated her even further.
"Why are you here? I think I made our … separation perfectly clear. You know how much I enjoyed our nightly encounters at the guild's stronghold, and I am quite positive that you had your pleasure, too." His emerald-green gaze slowly wandered over her body, as if he remembered every inch of it. "Let's leave it with that and part in peace, Guild Master." He nodded his head slightly in respect for her status as leader of Fearann's Guild of Magicians. Yet his expression was as unyielding as stone, betraying not the slightest hint of emotion.
The female elf shook with fury now. "Don't you dare treat me like a used and discarded piece of clothing, Calatin. But that's the way you treat all your lovers, isn't it? She'll be just another piece in your collection, just like me." She gestured to the bird fairy, who tried to hide herself in her nest as well as a rainbow-colored creature could possibly do in a heap of soft white feathers. Some of them still stuck to Calatin's skin, a fact that hadn't escaped the attention of the sorceress. She ogled his body as if he was a delicious treat, fully meaning to humiliate him now. "Maybe it's just what you are - nothing but a beautiful piece of man flesh, but empty inside, apart from your vanity. I wonder if you'd be as close to your cousin and friend," she spat the word out as if it were an insult, "the king, if you didn't happen to be royalty yourself? Would he have made you captain of his guard if you were just a peasant?"
Calatin didn't even try to defend his position. He knew that Medeia was the daughter of a blacksmith and proud of her simple heritage. Born with an extraordinary ability to use magic, her family had handed her over to the guild at a very early age. But it had been her stubbornness that had brought her to her office, fighting one magician after the other in the yearly tournament, whose winner was announced to be guild master - until a new, more powerful sorcerer defeated him in open battle.
"Whatever King Elathan decides, is none of your concern, sorceress," he said harshly. "Unless you have another reason to be here and disturb me while I was engaged in making love, then I would ask you to leave me in peace. I would like to finish what I started." Behind him, the nude little fairy shivered with anticipation. "Face it, our affair was most pleasurable while it lasted, but now it's over. I'm sorry, Medeia."
This drove the cloaked woman into a frenzy and she raised her hands, her fingertips emanating sparks of blue fire. She narrowed her eyes, hissing, "Sorry? You have the audacity to tell me, the master of the Guild of Magicians, that you feel
sorry
for me? No, Calatin. It will be you who will be sorry, and very soon. You, who are loved by so many women, yet have never loved anything else but yourself." She spread out her arms as if she wanted to rise up into the heavens and fly, but it was pure magic that whirled all around her now, causing the air to crackle. All noises had ceased as the forest fell dead silent.
Medeia's eyes turned so dark that the whites around her pupils disappeared as she worked herself into a trance, talking more to herself than to Calatin right now. "Killing you wouldn't be half as pleasing as what I intend to do to you now, lover. I will take you to a place where all your good looks and high-bred position will serve for nothing. I will even strip you of your otherworldly beauty so no one will recognize you for what you are. You will be nothing, looking just like the creatures in whose midst you will live from now on, unable to use your magic. Worthless, inferior beings that they are, they will sense that you're different, that you're not one of them. They will kill you in no time, and by then you'll hate me so much that your last thought will be of me, of all women."
She laughed joyfully, a sound so cold that the bird fairy gasped with fear. It was a mistake, for the sorceress turned her attention to her. "Die," she growled, and before the fairy could turn into a bird and escape, she exploded in a blinding surge of light, without even having time enough to scream.
Roaring with anger, Calatin shot a flash of silver fire at Medeia, attempting to shove her from the branch on which she was standing freely now, with wide-spread arms. Her head was thrown back while she was bathing in the ecstatic feeling of being connected to the ancient powers she had summoned from the bowels of the earth. But it was too late. Her magic already surrounded him like a cage, preventing him from using his own. Had he been prepared for this fight, he would probably have won, although Medeia wasn't an opponent with whom to deal lightly.
Suddenly, he felt as if he was being violently ripped apart and catapulted high up into the air. The pain was so excruciating that he was unable to move a single limb, and he felt his body begin to change, turning into something completely different. At the same time, Medeia's mind reached into his soul and took away the one thing he valued most of all, kept closest to his heart - the ability that had been with him since the day he was born. It represented all that he was, all he had ever been.
His magic.
Before the world he knew disintegrated into complete and utter darkness, the last sound that he heard was her laughter, mocking him. Then, he was falling, falling, and his whole being dissolved in the absolute nothing.
*****
@Deborah Court 2012
All rights reserved.