Page 98 of Black Sea

“Honey, please, open up,” Mother’s gentle yet deep voice called from the hallway. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

No, I wasn’t all right, because my breathing was shallow.

I frowned up at the ceiling: The position of the stars had shifted somewhat. It was probably about an hour since I had fallen asleep.

A sudden twinge in my neck made me flinch.

I touched the spot where, in my dream, Amlach had bitten and sucked me. I didn’t feel any signs or slight abrasion, of course. But the pain was there, just beneath the skin.

I perceived it.

Ignoring my mother, who kept knocking and talking to me, I grabbed the hem of the sheets and tossed them aside.

I turned to stone.

The skirt of my nightgown was ripped. Precisely where Amlach had torn it in my dream. I cautiously put my trembling hand between my legs, wincing as I touched the red, swollen, slimy flesh. Horrified, I watched the clear filaments of my arousal between my fingers.

It couldn’t be real, I kept telling myself.

It couldn’t.

58

The next morning, I lifted the skirt of my pale aquamarine dress, with golden floral decorations and flowing sleeves that taper into pointed shapes on the backs of my hands, as I descended the natural steps of the dungeons.

“Good morning, Elf,” Amlach greeted me in his usual cocky tone.

I froze at the door of the cell, already open, feeling my vagina throbbing just at the sound of his voice.

I sighed in relief when I saw a large tray on the thin mattress, with plates cleaned down to crumbs, grateful that my father had someone bring him a hearty breakfast.

And not only that. Amlach no longer wore Rubra’s purplish robe but a knee-length royal blue shirt, topped with a matching tunic, featuring semi-rigid shoulder pads and gold embroidery, and fastened at the waist with a large leather belt.

I also looked at the dark trousers peeking out from under the tunic and tucked into the brown boots. Eventually, I refocused on his face, searching for something . . . Spirits, I didn’t know what. Just something.

“Did you sleep?” I asked him, trying not to let my desire show.

Amlach neared until he invaded my personal space. “Did you?” he shot back, his eyes dancing mischievously.

His manly scent curled beneath my nose, bringing back memories of my lustful dream, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from looking at him the way I had while he licked me mercilessly.

Amlach gripped my chin lightly with his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face upward to focus my attention. His eyes darkened as he looked over the thick blonde braid wrapped around my head like a crown, decorated with floral hairpins that matched the aquamarine gem embedded in my tiara.

“Don’t put your hair up anymore,” he ordered in a low tone.

I tucked his hair behind his ears, gliding my fingers over the tips. He inhaled deeply, caught between irritation and ecstasy, his jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle in his cheek twitched.

“Why?” I whispered.

He traced my lower lip with his thumb. “You know why.”

Because he loved to touch them.

And he loved to pull them. To dominate me.

I remembered how he had tugged at them in my dream, tilting my head as he pleased while he possessed me with his fingers in that rough and intoxicating way.

And I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.