Bound to the Prince by Deborah Court Page B

thundered.
“Look at me. I am Prince Elathan of Fearann. Do you really think I
have the need to take any female against her will?” The elf
stretched out his free hand. His gloved fingers stroked the side of
her neck before they slowly traveled down over her naked flesh,
which was aching with desire for him. When he reached one of her
breasts, he circled her hardened nipple with his fingertip, so
teasingly light that she arched her back to mold herself into his
hand, demanding more.
    He just laughed, abruptly withdrawing his
fingers. “Let's pretend that I just lied to you, and that I
abducted other mortal women before, sweet Igraine. Imagine how
ruthlessly I might have used them to satisfy my carnal needs,
touched them like this …” His hand moved down over her belly, right
down to her womanly core. There, he caressed her very gently, so
light that she moaned with frustration.
    “If I had seduced them, arousing their
passion until they begged me to take them … how would you feel
about that, Igraine? Angered, eager to kill me? Or would it excite
you?” he whispered huskily. Instinctively, Igraine opened her
thighs for him, longing to be touched. Again, he drew back his hand
before she could rub herself against his fingers.
    “Face the truth, Igraine,” the prince
continued, his tone serious now. “I found you walking the streets
in the middle of the night, unaccompanied. When I watched you on
that bridge, I knew that nobody would come searching if I took you
with me – no lover, no kin or family. In your world, you are alone.
I saw it in your eyes. No one will come for you.”
    Igraine was too ashamed to even try lying to
him. His words hurt her, but he was right. She averted her eyes so
he wouldn't see the tears stinging in them. "The Fae know that
humans do not care enough about each other to protect their own
people. Maybe they'll search for a short while, but there is no way
that anyone would find you down here. Soon, the human world will
have forgotten all about you. As you see, you are stuck here with
me.” His gaze caught hers and held it prisoner for a while, waiting
for her reaction. Igraine closed her eyes, unwilling to let him see
her inner turmoil. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
    Her parents had died in a car accident long
ago, leaving her to grow up with a distant relative, an aunt who
never had the desire for children of her own. She had tried to
fight for Aunt Irene’s love, being the best child she could be, but
in vain. Irene gave her everything she needed. Nevertheless,
Igraine had never felt really wanted. The day she turned eighteen,
her aunt had told her to leave the house as soon as possible.
Later, Igraine believed that she eventually had found a home with
Stephen, but she had been wrong. It seemed as if she wasn’t very
good at attracting love, no matter how hard she tried.
    Elathan, however, seemed indifferent to her
distress. Raising the spear from her neck, he straightened and
continued to pace the chamber once more. When he began to talk, the
rich timbre of his voice seemed to comfort her, alluring her with
its own magic.
    “You have to know that there wasn’t always
only enmity between elf and man. I recall a time, long ago, when we
were living together in peace, knowing our differences, of course.
We are so much stronger than humans, wiser due to our age. Our
feelings are deeper and more passionate. Yet sometimes we miss the
happiness you find in a simple moment, and we envy you the
intensity with which you live your short lives. After all, we have
so much time. You are fickle and treacherous; changing your
loyalties like your clothing. Your greed knows no boundaries. Maybe
it’s the knowledge that certain death will be your fate, no matter
what you do or what you’ll achieve.
    “Nevertheless, your people and mine once
found a way to exist side by side, respecting each other’s
borders.” He fell silent for a moment, starting to whirl the spear
around in his hand