Merlin’s Song (3 page)

Kyla had hidden in the supply room behind the baskets of
dried fruit and barrels of water. It was easy to keep out of sight. The elves
were busy on deck most of the time, and she didn’t think they would discover
her for a while. She had to eat though, and that’s what had betrayed her. Well,
at least now she could come up on deck and get some fresh air. She was also
strangely giddy at the sight of Merlin, standing there with an expression of
shock on his face.

More than giddy, actually. Her whole body tingled at the
sight of the tall elf. Her knees felt weak and for some reason her heart beat
erratically. She must just be cramped from sitting so long in one place. “Can
you help me? I don’t want to step on the fruit.” She put her hand out.

He took it, and as soon as their skin touched a strange
lethargy came over her. She swayed and he caught her and then pulled her
against his chest. Her arms looped over his broad shoulders and she laid her
cheek against his shoulder, breathing in his musky, masculine scent. His arms
were around her waist, holding her tightly against him, and she could feel the
hard ridge of his cock against her thigh. She angled herself so that her sex
came in contact with it and was shaken by a quick starburst of an orgasm. It
was just a tingle—a quick throb—like when you’re half asleep and having a wet
dream.

And then she said something about his knife pointing at her
throat and something about his cock pointing too. Why did she have to be so
impudent? Her mouth was always getting her into fixes. He definitely lost his
temper with her when she said that. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her arm.

“Come on, get moving,” he said, his voice rough.

She looked up at him, incapable of moving her feet. “To
where?”

He blinked, then said, “My room. You will stay there until I
decide what to do with you.”

“Do with me?” She swallowed hard. “Do whatever you want with
me.”

“Don’t you understand that you’re putting an entire country
in danger? Our mission is to save Hivernia. You may have completely wrecked it!”
He looked furious. And adorable. She wanted to kiss him.

“I didn’t wreck anything,” she said petulantly.

He dragged her into a small room and pushed her onto a bed. “Stay
there.”

“Don’t leave me alone!” She grabbed his sword belt and
pulled, and his buckle gave way. His sword clattered to the floor. “Whoops,”
she said.

“I should teach you a lesson. Obviously no one else has ever
had that pleasure,” he said. And before she knew it he sat down, put her over
his knee and yanked her pants down. She gasped, and then he spanked her.

His hand slapped her buttocks hard enough to make her see
stars. He hit her again, spanking her until her rear felt as if it were on
fire. She had never, ever been treated in such a manner! She wriggled to get
away, then suddenly a wave of sheer passion rolled over her, leaving her limp.
Whimpering, she opened her legs and pressed her clit against his knee, rubbing
back and forth until she exploded again, this time with a real orgasm that left
her shaking.

He stopped spanking her. She couldn’t move. Gasping for
breath, she realized she’d never been so turned on in her life. And as she came
to her senses, she realized that the elf was breathing hard too, and there was
a definite wet spot on his trousers. She could feel it on her bare stomach.

She wanted to speak, to say something, but he got up,
dumping her on the floor, and stalked out of the room. He slammed the door and
she heard it lock. On her hands and knees, she made her way to the door and
pounded on it. “Let me out!” she cried.

He must have been just on the other side. She heard him draw
a shaking breath then say, “No. You’re not getting out. You’re a menace. A
spoiled, irresponsible brat. You won’t ruin our mission, do you hear me?” He
punched the door, making her draw back in alarm.

Worried now, she went and lay down on the narrow bed. He
thought she was a spoiled brat? How could he think such a thing? Stupid,
stuffy…sexy elf. She fell asleep with tears dried on her cheeks and a smile on
her lips.

* * * * *

Merlin had to hang on to the walls to stay upright as he
headed to the washroom. He changed his clothes and washed up, dipping the
washcloth in chilled water and scrubbing as hard as he could, as if to erase
the feel of Kyla from his skin.

How could he want her so badly? Just the thought of her made
him hard again. By Mistral! He ground his teeth together in frustration. He
wanted to pound his fist through the wall and he wanted to trace the contours
of her body with his fingertips.

He slammed the washcloth to the ground and headed above
deck, his thoughts whirling. What about Sebring? How was he going to tell him
about their stowaway? He hesitated, one foot on the ladder. Did he even want to
tell his brother? Jealousy gnawed at his belly and he stepped back, shaking his
head to clear it.

Jealousy? How could he be jealous of his brother? He had
never felt the slightest jealousy toward his brother. Not when he’d met Holly,
and certainly not when they’d married. He’d never felt the slightest bit of
envy. So what was this? It was totally unreasonable. He was going to march
right up to the deck and tell Sebring about Kyla.

He set his foot on the ladder and climbed, forcing himself
up to the deck. Once there he strode over to Sebring, who was holding their
course and checking the compass against an island far to their left.

“That’s the first of the Southern Isles,” said Sebring,
satisfaction in his voice. “We’ll be at the main island in under a week, thank
Mistral. We might save Hivernia after all.” His voice wavered as he spoke
though, his tone belying his confident words. Then he peered closer at Merlin. “What
is it? You look like you’ve seen—”

“A ghost?” Merlin gave a hollow laugh. “No. Actually, I
found the rat that was eating our food.”

“Good. Did you kill it?”

Merlin managed a shrug, then took a deep breath and said, “It
wasn’t a rat. There’s a stowaway.”

“A spy?” Sebring got to his feet, his expression
thunderstruck.

“No, a…spoiled brat. Some fairy princess with nothing to do
who sees our mission as a lark and has decided to come along.”

Sebring just gaped, so Merlin explained further. “She’s Dame
Flandres’ niece. I met her at the castle and for some reason she took it in her
head to run away and hide on our boat. Oh, stop looking at me like that! I don’t
know what came over her either. We can’t very well throw her overboard. We’re
stuck with the wench now.”

“What did you do with her?” Sebring finally found his voice.

“Locked her in my room. Hopefully she won’t get into any
mischief.” Merlin ran his hand across his face, rubbing his chin.

There was a silence, then Sebring sighed and said, “Well,
you did mention bringing along willing maidens, and Mistral knows fairies are
willing enough. I’m sure she’ll charm the pants off the Southern Isle
diplomats, and who knows, maybe even save the day by getting pregnant by one of
the princes.”

Merlin felt sick at the thought. Kyla? Asked to have sex and
bear a child in order to… Hold on. She wasn’t being asked to do anything, and
she certainly seemed willing to have sex with just about anyone. After all, he
had hardly spoken to her and she’d thrown herself upon him wantonly. He cleared
his throat. If he were honest, he’d admit he wanted her just as badly.

No! He did not want her. He pounded the mast, cursed, and
then saw his twin staring at him with wide eyes. “What?” he asked crossly.

“Nothing.” Sebring suddenly looked very busy getting the
compass stowed away and making sure the rudder was secure. “Nothing at all.” He
looked like he was trying not to grin.

Merlin looked past his twin’s shoulder to the horizon. Was
it his imagination, or did the sky look darker than usual? He glanced at the
barometer, affixed to the mast. It had fallen. “Did you see this?” he asked,
pointing.

“I checked it a while ago. It’s fallen sharply.” Sebring
sniffed the air. “Electric storm. Quick, batten the hatches. I’ll take down the
sails.”

Merlin hurried to secure the boat. While Sebring reefed the
sails, he closed the portholes and went below to secure any loose objects and
make sure the doors were all tightly closed. He hesitated in front of his door
then opened it. Kyla rolled over onto her back, sat up and ran her hands
through her waist-long hair, smoothing it. Her cheeks were pink.

“Have you come to let me out?”

“No, I’ve come to tell you that we’re headed toward a storm.”

“Oh good! I love when the waves toss the boat up and down!
Don’t you?” She leapt out of the bed and started to go by him, but he grabbed
her arm.

“Do you realize what I’m saying? A storm is about to hit the
boat.” He gave her a shake.

“I heard you. I’ve been in many storms. They don’t frighten
me. This boat is made to withstand harsh weather. What do you take me for? An
idiot?”

“Yes,” he said, and then felt bad as she flinched.

“I suppose I deserved that. Let me explain. I was reared in
the southern tier. There are boats in every harbor. My brothers took me
sailing. I have my own boat. I’ve sailed since I could walk. I’ve sailed
through lots of storms. Now let go of my arm. I’m going on deck. I can help.”

“Don’t give me orders,” said Merlin. He put steel into his
voice. “Here, on this ship, you are under my orders and you do as I say. There
is no arguing. There is no protesting. There is no sulking and whining,” he
continued, lowering his voice to a growl. “I am in charge. You are to stay in
this room until I tell you to leave. If storms don’t frighten you, fine. Tie
yourself to the bed so that you’re not thrown about.”

He was going to pull back and shut the door but her hand on
his arm was trembling so much he couldn’t help noticing. Her eyes were wide, her
pupils nearly taking over the iris. Her lips were parted and he could
practically see her heart pounding beneath her shirt.

Her shirt? It was his shirt! He took a step into the room,
intending to order her to take it off.

“I love it when you talk to me like that,” she said, her
voice breathless.

“Like what?”

“Giving me orders. Give me another one.”

“Take off my shirt,” he whispered.

“When?” She grinned.

“Now.”

“Make me.” Her cheeks were bright pink now.

“Fine.” He didn’t know what came over him but whatever it
was, he couldn’t control it. He grabbed her roughly and tossed her on the bed.
He pulled the shirt off her and then used it to tie her hands to the bedpost.
There was a harness specially made for storms. He snapped it on her, noting how
it compressed her breasts. “Here, let me loosen that.” He slid his hands under
the buckle, feeling her nipples harden. Once he loosened the buckle he grasped
her breasts and fondled them. She didn’t struggle. She arched her back and
rubbed against him.

His cock was so hard he thought he’d come in his pants
again. He undid his breeches and pulled it out, holding it with one hand while
he rubbed and fondled Kyla with the other.

Her eyes had widened at the sight of his cock and her
breathing deepened. “Oh, make love to me. I want your cock inside me. Please,
put it in me. Now.”

“No.” He didn’t want to make love to her. He wanted to go
help his brother prepare for the storm. Already the waves were bigger, rocking
the boat. What was he doing here? He should be on deck!

“Please! I’ll obey you. I won’t argue or whine. I deserve to
be punished. Hit me, spank me again, I beg you.” She twisted around and got to
her knees, her hands still attached to the headboard, the harness holding her
to the wall. She jutted her buttocks into the air. “Spank me,” she begged. “I
know you love it too.”

His hand found the belt lying on the floor and he brought it
down on her pale skin with a smack. A red line appeared and Kyla moaned, “Yes!
Harder, please!”

He whipped her again, until red lines crisscrossed her skin
and she uttered a high shriek. “Touch me, touch my cunt,” she begged. He saw
her sex was swollen, wet and shiny with her juices. He reached over and stroked
it, pushing his fingers into her, feeling the frantic throbbing of her orgasm
as her slick pussy grabbed hold of his fingers.

It pushed him over the edge. He grabbed hold of his cock and
came into his cupped hands, bent over, gasping. When his head cleared he tried
to make sense of this incredible longing that shook him whenever he saw Kyla,
but he couldn’t. His head aching in confusion, he pulled his breeches up, washed
himself and untied her hands.

“Am I still your prisoner?”

He paused. “You were never my prisoner. You can come on deck
if you want some fresh air. And you can keep the shirt.” Then he left the cabin
and shut the door behind him.

Merlin didn’t want Sebring to know what he felt about Kyla.
He was confused enough about his own feelings. He didn’t love her, how could he
love her? They’d barely spoken. And yet he couldn’t keep away from her. Worse,
he found he loved to tie her up and punish her. He’d never thought he was the
type of man to get excited by the sight of a woman bound and helpless, but it
drove him over the edge of reason.

During the day they were polite but distant to each other.
She was a superb sailor and seemed to feel the slightest shift in the wind and
waves. She handled the boat as if she had been born sailing.

But at night, when the stars glittered in the cold sky and
the icy wind whistled, they grappled together like two fighters. He tied her
up, he whipped her, and he felt as if he were laying his own soul bare, that
each lash cut him as hard as it cut her. And yet he wouldn’t penetrate her. His
cock never touched her body, except when he used it to tease her, stroke her,
press it against her breast or thigh. He came on her belly, on her breasts and
once in her avid mouth as she sucked him.

She begged him to put his cock into her, she tried to trick
him, sliding over when he didn’t expect it, but he refused. They didn’t speak.
He gave her orders and she obeyed—feverishly, slavishly. But other than the
curt “put your hands over your head” or “turn over”, there was no communication
between them.

He didn’t have anything to say to her. He felt, obscurely,
that she’d somehow deceived him into falling in love with her, and when he
thought that he grew almost angry. “I’m not in love,” he said in fury to the
churning sea. The waves just rose and fell, and he leaned against the mast and
cursed the day he’d set eyes on Kyla.

He’d never lost control of his emotions before. He’d never
been obsessed with a woman to the point where he couldn’t even eat or drink.
His food tasted like ashes…even the sugary-sweet fairy cakes.

It was dinnertime. Tomorrow they would arrive in the main
port on the capital island. As usual, they were eating in the small dining area
just behind the ladder. Sebring passed a plate of fairy cakes, saying ruefully,
“I’m afraid this is all that’s left.”

“If I ever see another fairy cake I’m going to vomit,” said
Merlin through gritted teeth.

“They’re not that bad.” Sebring gave him a strange look. He’d
been giving him a lot of strange looks lately, but Merlin ignored them.

“I’ve eaten so many I’m going to turn into one, but I’m so
hungry I don’t care.” Kyla took a fairy cake and bit into it, her teeth sinking
into the floury cake with relish. She wore his shirt. It was too large for her
and she’d rolled the sleeves up. Her hair, the color of pale blue moonlight,
was piled in a negligent chignon, tendrils escaping and framing her face. Her
slanted eyes, navy blue and fringed with feathery lashes, met his mockingly.

Merlin looked away, suddenly overcome with the urge to toss
her over the table and ravish her.

“Are you all right?” Sebring touched his shoulder.

“Fine,” said Merlin. He tried to think of something else
besides going into his room with Kyla and ordering her to strip her clothes
off. His cock stiffened and he clenched his fists beneath the table. What spell
had she cast upon him? But whatever it was, it seemed to have worked upon her
too, because she hardly ate a thing, her fingertips nervously tapping the
table, her glances toward him getting less mocking and more desperate, as if
she too could not wait another minute.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing back from the table. He couldn’t
hide his hard-on so he didn’t try. It strained against his breeches. He didn’t
have to say anything to Kyla. Her gaze fell on his cock and her cheeks flamed
as she stood and, without a word, fled toward his room.

“Merlin?” His brother sounded uncertain.

“Tomorrow,” said Merlin, and he wasn’t sure if he meant he’d
try to explain about his obsession tomorrow, or if he was just stating the
obvious—that there would be another day. He followed Kyla to his room, and the
only thing he could think of was desperate release.

* * * * *

Tonight she’d tell him. Tonight she’d try to explain that
she hadn’t meant it to work like this. The potion was just supposed to be for
fun. It wasn’t supposed to make her feel as if every nerve in her body was set
on fire when he touched her. It wasn’t supposed to drain her appetite, her
energy, her will.

He’d be angry—far angrier than when he’d discovered her
hiding in the boat. She wasn’t afraid of his anger. He never let it get out of
control. She was afraid of his scorn. She loved him, loved him with every fiber
of her body, and it was all because of that cursed potion. She had no intention
of falling in love with an elf and tying herself to him permanently. They were
stuffy, boring, hated parties and fine living, and preferred to stay in the
forest rather than live in fun cities. How long did the effects of the potion
last? She dragged air into her lungs and felt her belly clenching with need
just at the thought of Merlin, her lover, the elf.

Elves were mysterious and spiritual, whereas fairies were
industrious and creative. Fairies loved the glitter of society parties. If she
fell in love with an elf, she’d have to give all that up! No more balls or
dancing! She had to find an antidote!

And then she thought of leaving Merlin, of never seeing him
again, and she wanted to curl up in a ball and weep. She couldn’t leave him.
She needed him. She needed him so badly her whole body felt like a flower
opening and blossoming whenever he touched her. When he whipped her, she shook
with passion. When he tied her up she quivered with anticipation. Her breathing
grew ragged as she thought of him. But why wouldn’t he make love to her? Why?

The words she meant to say to him died on her lips when he
walked through the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat. His spiky, flame-colored
hair was carelessly brushed behind his pointed ears. His green eyes were
hooded, looking down at her with an unfathomable expression. But his cock told
her what she needed to know. It strained against the thin cloth of his
breeches, so much bigger than the cocks she’d seen before. Elves really were
much bigger than fairies. Her cunt contracted and she felt a quick, hot swell
of liquid. A moan escaped her lips. He hadn’t spoken, hadn’t touched her, and
already she trembled on the cusp of an orgasm.

“Take off your clothes,” she said, reaching up and grabbing
his belt.

He didn’t move, and so she undid his buckle and pulled his
breeches down. His cock sprang out, purple-tipped and huge with need. She didn’t
hesitate. She slid her mouth over the tip, sucking greedily. She was rewarded
by a salty spurt of cum.

She stroked his hard thighs, then tickled and gently
caressed his tight balls. The soft skin just behind them was like silk, and he
drew his breath in with a sharp hiss as she stroked her finger along the hard
ridge just behind his balls that led to his anus. She wanted to touch him all
over but he pushed her away. “Take off my shirt,” he said, bending over her. “Lie
down.”

It was an order. She shrugged his shirt off and lay on her
back, her heart pounding a hole in her chest. He knelt between her legs and
parted them, then leaned down and, with his tongue and fingers, began to caress
her sex. She thought she would explode. It felt as if a spring was being wound
tighter and tighter in her belly as his tongue worked over her clit and his
fingers delved into the sensitive flesh of her pussy. He pushed one finger then
two deep within her passage, licked her clit hungrily and suddenly the spring
inside her unwound. She bucked against him, grasping his shoulders and pulling
him desperately to her. Perhaps surprised, perhaps prey to the same
overpowering urge, this time he slid up and over her and she wrapped her legs
around his hips and pulled him into her.

As his cock parted her flesh, she uttered a long, drawn-out
cry. It was so big it stretched her out and filled her, but more than that, it
fulfilled her. She felt every single inch of him as he slid in. He thrust hard,
grunting with the effort. She felt as if he labored over her body like a farmer
plowed a field. Her body welcomed the pleasure, so akin to pain, but it was a
pain she needed more than the air she breathed.

Then he arched over her, shoving his cock to the hilt, and a
cry sprang from his lips. It was a cry that started low, then rose like a
fountain of water bursting from the ground. It wrapped around her, carried her,
made her bones vibrate with the music of it. Elf song! She’d heard of it, and
now it seemed to penetrate straight into her belly, setting her on fire.

Oh by Mistral! She screamed, not able to hold back. Now she
let go. Finally, she could let it go completely. She came so hard her teeth
chattered. She felt him pulsing inside her as he spilled his seed deep in her
womb. Another tremor shook her and she arched her back and pushed her hips up,
milking him to the last drop, wanting him wedged even more deeply within her.
She didn’t want it to end. A burning, dizzying desire gripped her so tightly
all her muscles ached. And then, like a wave that crashes upon a beach and
slides away, it was over.

She trembled, her body loose as soft cotton. Her nerves
tingled and then everything stilled. The storm had broken and calm had
returned. Merlin gave one last shudder and rolled off her, his face pale. He
looked as shattered as she felt. He buried his head in his pillow and said, “Why?
Why?”

She shook with fear, but she told him.

Silence. Then he lifted his head and stared at her. “A
potion? It’s all from a potion?”

She nodded, fear trickling along her spine. Would he hate
her now?

Instead he smiled. “Then, if it is a potion, there must be
an antidote. If we find that, then…” His eyes lost a bit of their sparkle but
his voice remained firm. “Then it will be over.”

“I suppose so.” She pulled the sheet over her aching body.

“When we get to the kingdom of the Southern Isles, I will
seek out a potion master and rid ourselves of this craze,” he said.

“I think that would be the best thing.” Kyla tried to
imagine life without Merlin, and a shudder ran over her. It’s just the potion’s
effects, she told herself sternly, but she cried as she fell asleep.