Page 119 of Black Sea

Keeping all of his cock inside me, I resumed to sway back and forth, moaning as my clitoris rubbed against the hair on his groin. “And that one day,” I went on, “when your kingdom’s land is healed, it will unite with ours under our guidance.”

“We could build our new house near the Glawar, where we met.” Amlach stroked my belly with a possessive look. “Just for you and me.”

I could already picture it: wooden, simple, and intimate, with a watermill and stables for Ringil and another horse. No servants or maids, just us.

I leaned toward him again, pressing my abdomen against his. “We will,” I breathed over his mouth.

“But what I don’t want to do,” Amlach countered, tucking my hair behind my ears, “is let you face your father alone.”

“I have to.” I threaded a hand through his hair without pulling too hard. I fisted the other hand in the corner of a pillow, lowering my hips as he lifted his pelvis. “You’ll join us later.”

“This palace is a fucking labyrinth, Elf.” He moved his hands back on my buttocks, gripping them to guide me onto his erection at a faster and faster rhythm. “How will I know where to find you?”

I giggled against his lips. “You’ll just have to follow my father’s screams,” I managed to say between my moans.

“Hmm . . .” He slowly slid the fingers of one hand into the groove between my buttocks. “You mean screams like these?”

Without warning, he forced his index and middle fingers inside my ass, prompting an involuntary cry of pleasure that quickly turned into uncontrollable screams, as he took me with the same force he had dominated all night.

A force to which I realized I had already become addicted.

69

I walked through the corridors with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. The servants I encountered initially looked at me reproachfully, but then their expressions softened, and they laughed with me as I engaged them in playful pirouettes. The antique white silk and the wisteria-colored tulle skirt of my dress, featuring dark gold ivy and lilac flowers that climbed the corset and extended below the boat neckline, flowing down the bell-shaped tulle sleeves, rustled with my movements.

I had never felt so happy. The joy swirling inside me was so overwhelming that I thought I might burst at any moment.

Entering my parents’ private wing, I followed the echo of my father’s voice to the living room. At the door, I adjusted my gold floral tiara with a pearl at the center, feeling invincible despite the roars from inside the room.

I forced myself to tone down my smile and walked in without knocking.

Still in her dressing jacket like her mate, Mother sat at the edge of the sumptuous, light-colored wooden couch, her posture exposing all her anguish.

Father stopped pacing the room in long strides and stared at me silently, his eyes so wide they almost appeared ready to pop out of their sockets.

Calmly, I shut the door behind me and braced myself to endure his anger with as much stoicism as I could muster.

“You . . .” he hissed, advancing toward me threateningly. “ How dare you!”

His scream struck me with the incisiveness of an ice storm, shaking my confidence and making me recoil subtly.

“Don’t yell at our daughter like that,” Mother said, rising to her feet.

“A daughter who publicly humiliated us by rubbing herself against that man like a human in heat!” he spat.

“Watch your language,” his mate ordered.

Father shot her a furious glance, pointing his finger at me. “ She should have controlled herself!” He gazed at me, his stern face twisted with anger that he had never shown before. “Instead, you danced so brazenly . . . so dirtily.” He looked me up and down, as if recalling how my body had moved on the dance floor with Amlach’s. “You were disgusting.”

“She is in love, Erech,” the queen retorted with sorrow for me.

“She just wanted to breed with him!” He peered at the finger and tooth marks Amlach had left on my neck, horrified. “And at last, she did.” He stepped closer, pinning me with a stare brimming with disappointment. “But know this: Nothing you did with that human is love.”

He was wrong. He was wrong. It was different from the love the elves shared, yes. It was wild and dirty and insatiable and perverse. But it was love. And it was inescapable.

My father shook his head slowly. “I can’t even look at you. I can’t even smell your scent, only his nauseating smell.” He recoiled, his nose curling with revulsion. He took a few seconds to try to regain his austere composure. He couldn’t. “Do you understand what your decision to lie with that half-blood under the eyes of the entire court will result in?”

“He’s not a simple half-elf, nor just a king,” I said, seething with emotions for what I was about to declare.