Ryvan straightened on his knees, his hand falling to his belt buckle. I twisted my upper body more so I could watch. I’d felt the size of him earlier, but I wanted to see what he had in store for me.
The damn man teased me as well—if not better—than the most skilled stripper. His belt was undone in a leisurely fashion, the leather dangling to tickle my ass. I shivered at the sensation. Slowly, like he had all the time in the world, he pulled the belt free of the loops, the long band of leather making a soft hissing sound as it was released.
When it was free, he looped it in one hand and stroked the tender cheeks of my ass with it. “I should spank you,” he said conversationally, his eyes on his hands. “When I saw you get on that stage tonight, I thought I’d lose my mind.” He smoothed one hand over my left cheek. “I saw your body, saw those other males wanting you and had to mark you as mine.” He followed the crease of my ass to the slick flesh below. “I imagined what I wanted to do to you and the next thing I knew, you were coming on that stage, the scent of your lust filling the room.”
My eyes widened. Had he somehow touched me while I was on that stage? Elves had different powers, maybe his was teleken—
He gently slapped the belt across my ass and I forgot about everything. I jumped from the unexpected touch before sinking back onto the bed, unable to hold the awkward position any longer. The cool leather kissed my skin before trailing away again. It didn’t hurt at all, didn’t even sting, but the threat was there. He gave another pass of the belt, this time leaving a faint tingle behind. My inner muscles clenched. My mouth was dry because it was wide open as I panted for breath. He caressed me with the leather sending shocks of pleasure through me.
I’d never given much thought to being spanked in an erotic situation because spanking used to mean punishment, or like now, an easy twenty bucks after Spanky got his half. Hell,
this
was punishment for nearly getting myself killed by the Host, but this was the kind of discipline I could live with. This was nothing like the beatings and “attitude adjustments” I’d been given by the queen or the heavy-handed slaps I got at the club.
The leather met my ass with a slightly harder slap and the sting shot straight to my clit. I gasped, shocked by the sensation of soft pain mingling with raging desire. He did it again, harder this time and I moaned. I wanted to shove the comforter in my mouth, moved my hand to do just that, but he stopped me.
“I want to hear you.”
My heart slammed harder than ever. I forced myself to keep my hands next to my head, though there was nothing I could do about the fists my fingers made. My palm ached, but I was so lost to pleasure, it flared and was gone in an instant. My whole body felt stretched tight, like I’d grown too big for my skin. Another slap of the belt, striking me with a loud
snap
made me groan, arousal soaking my channel and thighs.
“Don’t you ever,” he said with another slap on the opposite cheek, “ever put yourself in danger that way again.” The slaps of leather against my skin continued, punctuated by his snarled commands. “If the Host had found you there, you would’ve died, lost to me forever.”
With those words he hit me harder than ever and the bright pain arched my entire body. His other hand delved between my legs. One stroke of his finger across my clit and I convulsed, the muscles along my channel clenching hard and fast. I cried out, not sure what I said, if I even formed coherent sentences. It didn’t matter. He spanked me again and again, each slap of the belt sending burning pleasure through me and throwing me into another orgasm.
I flew higher than Sable’s wings could carry her. I soared through the stratosphere into outer space, floating on a cosmic wave of pleasure so powerful I knew I’d never be the same again. Here there was nothing that could hurt me, nothing to worry me. No tribes, no murderous queens, no assassins out for my blood. Here there was nothing but peace and Ryvan. But like all trips to Heaven, Hell, or anywhere in between, I came back to Earth, back to the misery and uncertainty of my life.
When I regained consciousness, I was still draped across the bed, still had my skirt flipped up. My ass burned, but soothing hands stroked my skin, easing the heat in my cheeks. I trembled, more sated and relaxed than I’d ever been before. It was similar to how I felt after a good training session, like my mind and body were finally in sync.
“Are you okay?” His voice was gruff, deeper than ever, and sent a trill of renewed pleasure coursing through me.
I cleared my throat, swallowed a couple of times trying to produce saliva for my desperately dry mouth. Finally, I husked, “Yes, I’m fine.” Another shudder worked through me. I was so not all right. He’d shaken the foundations of my world. I never knew I could experience pleasure when it was supposed to be pain. “Thank you,” I finished stupidly.
“Good.” I heard the rasp of a zipper and clothing being removed. Seconds later, his big hands settled on my hips again. “Now I’ll bring you pleasure.”
“Wha—”
My shocked words were cut off with the slam of his cock inside me. I squeaked, my hands scrambling for the comforter. I didn’t know if I was trying to hold myself in place or pull myself away from him. He was huge. I’d known it, but oh gods, I wasn’t prepared for someone his size. It’d been years since—
Something was different. Well, other than his size and the fact that he wasn’t moving, I could feel him more than any other lover I’d had. It wasn’t just that he was a part of my body now, but I could feel his essence, his power seep into me. My heart pounded with fear and uncertainty. I didn’t understand what this meant, yet I knew it wasn’t exactly normal.
He still didn’t move. He stayed locked inside me, his tight grip on my hips holding me in place. I had been very wet, downright soaked if I were being honest. He hadn’t hurt me, but the shock of his sudden invasion rippled through me. And he didn’t twitch a muscle as I adjusted around him.
He filled every hollow space inside me. Or at least that’s what it seemed like. He was thick and long, hitting me deeper than any lover I’d ever had before. I felt full of him, like he was reaching for a part of me I’d never given to anyone. I wondered if he felt the same tingle of awareness, of absolute intimacy I did.
Then his hands moved, caressing my hips, his thumbs brushing my reddened ass in slow, silken circles. “You feel so good,” he said with a purr. I swear I felt his voice vibrate through his cock into my body. I quaked around him. “The minute I saw you I knew you’d feel like this, all tight, hot, and wet.”
Okay, I needed him to move. Not away, but into me. His words caused a hunger inside me I wasn’t sure could be fulfilled. No one had ever said something so erotic or tender to me before.
“Ryvan, please move.”
“I want to savor this a little longer,” was his gruff response. “This might be the only chance we have for a long time, and I want to enjoy it.”
Oh. Right, we were in danger. I had a moment’s clarity. We shouldn’t be doing this at all. Sable was in the next room probably waiting for us to come out and make pla—
All thought of danger fled when his hands slid to the waistband of my skirt and followed it to the front. My stomach wasn’t flat, but I sure as hell sucked it in when I felt him touch me. His fingers fumbled with the button of my skirt, undoing it.
“Pull it over your head,” he ordered, gripping my hips to tug me back with him when he moved.
We were fused together so tightly, he didn’t shift inside me when I wiggled the skirt over my head, the potion bottle clocking me in the face. I threw it across the room, leaving me in nothing but my loose top and bra, but not for long. Quicker than I could process, he tore the shirt from my back and unhooked my bra, tugging the straps over my shoulders and down my arms.
These movements shoved him deeper inside me as he was bent almost in half to disrobe me. His rough, hot hands slid beneath me to cup my breasts. The head of his cock butted up against my cervix. My eyes crossed from the pressure, not sure if I liked it or not. It didn’t hurt, but it was a strange feeling, one I couldn’t—
He moved again, the jerkiness of his movements jostling him inside me. His cock rubbed and I exploded. Deep, near-painful shudders wracked me and I screamed, well, like a banshee.
“Fuck!” he snarled. His hands tightened on my breasts to the point of pain, but there was no stopping my orgasm.
My pussy sucked at his cock, clenching and tugging until he joined the program. He withdrew against the pull of my muscles and slammed into me. On that inward stroke he brushed a part of my channel I’d always thought was a true myth. Pleasure zinged through me and I came again and again with every silken rub of his flesh against that little spot. Again and again he thrust, faster and harder with every plunge until finally he slammed home with a loud groan.
Heat spilled, scalding me from the inside out. My body, which had become foreign to me, shuddered again, accepting everything he had to give. My eyes burned at the strength of my orgasm. Something hot trailed down my cheeks as my womb gave one final, compulsive squeeze.
Ryvan slumped over me, his softening cock slipping from my drenched folds. His breathing fanned over my shoulder, his big, muscled body covering me completely. I was surrounded by him, his scent, his heat, and I’d never been more content.
“This isn’t contentment, Magda, this is a true mating between consorts,” he whispered against my skin.
I froze because I knew damn well I hadn’t spoken about my contentment. I also wasn’t so sure we were consorts. I mean, I barely knew him and…I’d screwed him like a—
“Like a consort,” Ryvan answered my unspoken shame although I hadn’t intended to use the word consort. “We are consorts, Magda.”
Something was definitely off. “Uh, right. Could you get off me now?”
I needed some room to think, to come to grips with the explosive chemistry between us. I highly doubted I was the banshee of prophecy, but he believed I was and thought we were meant to be together. It sounded great, the whole made-for-each-other thing. If I were any younger and less cynical about my reception in Fairworld, I might even buy into it. However, I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore and what Ryvan was talking about was all happily-ever-after and not for me.
“You still doubt you’re meant to unite your people?”
I glared at the comforter. I’d tried ignoring it, thinking it was just coincidence, but there was no denying it now. “You’re reading my mind.”
His big shoulders shrugged causing his chest hair to tickle the skin of my back. “Of course, I’m your consort.” Like that was some kind of answer.
“Get off of me,” I growled, my temper, usually very slow to ignite, starting to burn.
“You require proof of my place in your life, little banshee?”
I squirmed beneath him, trying to ignore the way my skin came to life with every brush of my body against his. “Hell yeah, I want proof, but there is none because prophecies never come true!”
I may as well have tried moving a mountain for all the impact I had on Ryvan’s position over me. I couldn’t really complain about him hurting me or anything because he kept most of his weight off of me without letting me have room to maneuver. Damn elves.
He thrust something in my face. My eyes crossed trying to see what he was showing me. Finally able to focus, I saw something silvery glistening in his palm. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. My mind flipped through possibilities like Breeze breaking something and carrying it into my bed or glass from somewhere, when my instinct knew exactly what it was.
It was a banshee tear. Unlike other species, most banshee tears solidified rather than evaporated. Not all of them did, of course otherwise there’d be a higher supply than demand. Only the most powerful banshees had the ability to cry tears that could be preserved for longer than a few days. And if Ryvan was to be believed, I’d just cried one of the biggest, most distinct tears I’d ever seen in my life.
Nearly the size of a marble, the tear shimmered with iridescent light. I reached out to touch it, confused, baffled, and nearly faint with excitement. It was cool to the touch though it pulsed with power strong enough to send an electrical jolt up my arm. The hair on my neck stood up.
“How?” I whispered in awe.
Ryvan shifted over me, releasing me from the cage of his body. He rested on his side next to me, his bright blue eyes gazing into mine with possessive tenderness. He tilted his hand, letting the tear roll out of his palm into mine. He gently enclosed my fingers around the tear and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand.
“You and I together are more powerful than any queen and consort has ever been or ever will be. Together, we’ll keep civil war from coming to Fairworld because we were made to be together.” His eyes shifted color, swirling with deep brown before returning to the dazzling blue I’d grown so used to.
I blinked. “How…” I shook my head trying to organize my thoughts. “You’re not just an elf.”
His mouth tilted up at the corners in a sly, sexy smile. “Water elf and gancanagh,” he rasped in a voice that made my nipples stand at attention again.
My jaw dropped as I looked him over carefully. The gancanagh were nearly extinct, or had been the last time I’d been in Fairworld. They were similar to incubi, except they were literally addictive to human females who, once having a taste of the seductive wiles of the gancanagh, went into withdrawal. History was rife with stories of women who’d died after their gancanagh lovers lost interest in them.
“How?”
“My father seduced my mother and nine months later I was born,” he said with an easy shrug.
“Did she—” I wanted to know if his father had killed his mother, but I didn’t want to bring up a painful subject.
Ryvan shook his head, his dark hair flopping over his forehead. “It isn’t a painful subject, sweetheart. They’re still together. Ma uses her water magic to keep Da on a short leash.” His lips curled into another seductive smile. “Da doesn’t mind at all.”