Page 77 of Dark Elf Makes Five

Her answering whimper holds notes of genuine apology mixed with pure desire. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you will be." The promise tastes like victory in my mouth.

I release her long enough to unfasten my trousers, and my cock springs free, already weeping at the tip. The sight of her bent over the fountain, skirts rucked up around her waist, does things to my control I should be ashamed of but feel only fierce satisfaction for. She turns her head enough to see me, her hazel eyes dark with anticipation.

I guide myself to her entrance, pressing against her slickness before driving home in a single fluid motion that steals the breath from both our lungs. My hand tangles in her hair, pulling just enough to arch her back.

"Are you ready for your punishment?"

Her head bobs in a frantic nod, and I deliver another sharp slap to her reddening flesh. "Use your words, sweet girl."

The sound she makes is half moan, half sob. "I'm ready, Master." She pushes back against me, her body begging for more even as her words echo through the orchard. "Punish me."

That's all the invitation I need.

I set a brutal pace from the first thrust, driving deep and leaving no part of her untouched. Her cries echo through the trees, music to my ears.

"So wet for me." My voice drops into a rough growl as I pound into her relentlessly. "Dripping like the little slut you are. Couldn't wait to have me inside you, could you?"

Her reply dissolves into incoherent sounds, her knuckles white where they grip the fountain's edge.

"I asked you a question." I slow my thrusts just enough to make her ache for more. "Couldn't wait, could you?"

"No, Master." She grinds back against me, taking me deeper still. "I couldn't wait."

"And whose pussy is this?" I slam into her again, the vulgarity sharp against the pastoral backdrop.

"Yours!" Her hips buck against mine as pleasure builds between us.

"And who do you belong to?"

"To you!" Her words become a litany, each one punctuated by my thrusts. "Only to you."

When her climax hits, it ripples through her in waves so hard that she can't even keep herself up.

As her knees buckle, I catch her before she can collapse. My arms scoop under her thighs and shoulders, and I carry her the few steps to the moss carpet beneath a massive tree. The soft ground yields beneath us, fragrant and cool after the sun-warmed stone.

"No," I murmur against the pulse fluttering beneath her jaw. "You don't get to faint until I've had my fill."

Her dress tears beneath my hands—fabric gives way with a satisfying rip that exposes the pale swell of her breasts to the orchard air. The sound echoes through the quiet clearing, a declaration of possession more potent than any vow. I don't hesitate; I lower my mouth to her nipple and take it between my teeth with enough pressure to make her cry out.

She arches against the moss, hips lifting from the ground in silent demand. "Zerion."

It's my name on her lips. Always my name.

My fingers dig into her hips as I position myself between her thighs. "Mine."

I force my cock back inside her like a greedy animal that can't stop rutting, each thrust deeper than the last, marking her in ways that go beyond the physical. She belongs to me—flesh, bone, and soul—and I'll spend the rest of my life proving it.

"I love you, my sweet girl," I tell her between strokes that steal her breath and make stars dance behind my own eyes.

Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her nails pricking through the fine fabric of my coat. "I love you, Zerion."

She whispers the words against my neck like a secret prayer, and something in my chest tightens in a way I’ve grown accustomed to over these past years—this strange, tender ache that only she can create. My hands frame her face, forcing her to meet my gaze as I drive into her again.

"Again," I command, watching her eyes darken with pleasure.

"I love you." Her voice breaks on the last word as her body arches beneath mine, her hips lifting to meet each thrust.