Not Magic Enough and Setting Boundaries Boxed Set (The Coming Storm) (5 page)

On many nights she walked or paced these same halls by herself, so often she could walk them blindfolded.

For all the lightness of her tone, Dorovan could sense the weight that lay on her heart that she put aside in the face of his.

“Sorrows can be shared, Delae,” he repeated.

Looking up into his eyes, his beautiful face was as impassive as all those of his race, in those eyes Delae could see compassion, could sense it in him.

Still.

A part of her ached - yearned for comfort and yet she dared not. Once that wall came down… She quailed, flinched away in fear at the thought, afraid the weight of her responsibilities would crush her if she looked at them too closely.

“You have enough of your own sorrow,” she said, gently, “You don’t need mine as well. I’m long used to it.”

“You seem very…alone,” he said.

She did. Even in the midst of her own people she’d seemed solitary, as if there were a barrier he couldn’t see between her and them.

His perception pierced her.

At his words Delae had to turn away, from the sympathy but above all from the kindness in his voice. It touched her to her core. Kindness would undo her, who had known anything but weight and responsibility, demands and complaints for so long - and she knew it.

He still had her hand and wouldn’t release it however gently she tried to free it.

A part of her went still, understanding he wouldn’t let it go.

She realized too that she couldn’t look at him long. Her own loneliness cried out to her.

As with all his people, there was a beauty in his calm sureness. He attracted her with his compassion and kindness, with that devastating beauty, dark silky hair and silvery eyes. A sudden yearning came over her, to be touched and held, to give and be given comfort. The sudden rush of heat - of need - raced through her with such shocking intensity it stunned her, catching her completely off guard. It was something she hadn’t allowed herself to think or feel in such a very long time she’d almost forgotten what it was.

His mere presence made her want what she hadn’t had…couldn’t have.

Dorovan was Elf. She was of the race of Men. It was foolish even to think it.

Even this touch though, this sweet clasp of hands, was more than she’d known for more years than she could count.

The sudden sting of tears in her eyes horrified her. With an effort she turned her head away, forced a smile and a light laugh.

“I have plenty of people here,” she said, in answer to his statement.

And she did, all around her, but none who touched her.

Dorovan could feel the weight on her heart as much as he sensed her sudden bright burst of need, desire. Unlike many of her kind though, she turned away from it.

In all his time he’d never seen another living creature so alone and so in need of simple comfort. And yet she would deny herself that, even when offered.

Reaching out, a small frown creasing his forehead though he didn’t know it, Dorovan drew her chin around and up so he could look into her eyes and held her there until she looked back at him. It was so little to give and so much to receive.

Delae couldn’t be so rude as to tear herself away from him, nor so cowardly as not to face him, so did what she could to try to hide that which ached inside her until she saw what was in his eyes and then all the breath escaped her in a soft rush.

Slowly Dorovan lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was so sweet, so gentle that Delae’s fragile heart broke…and opened to let him in.

She gave herself freely, asking nothing but what he was willing to give, save that he let her give what she could to no other… In a moment he knew it all, all her sorrow, her pain. He grieved for her and admired her for the strength and will that kept her going.

His mouth closed over hers, tasting her, her spirit, her soul, as she tasted him.

It was a gift she offered him and he to her and he knew it, knew how precious it was as something within him opened to take what she offered.

His long strong body was pressed against hers and to Delae’s surprise she found her hands skimming up the long lean muscles of his back and felt them flex beneath her hands as he drew her closer.

Fire such as she’d never known raced beneath her skin, setting heart, soul, mind and body ablaze.

Dorovan speared his long fingers into the rich abundance of her brilliant hair, feeling the curls close around each one as his mouth took hers. Her hair was silken and springy within his fingers, so different from his people. Suddenly he wanted to explore her, to seek out all the differences in her and to define the likenesses. Pleasure and anticipation rushed through him. What would it be to touch her, to feel her - to share with her?

In one movement he swept her up in his arms.

“Dorovan,” she breathed, half in protest.

Gently, he brushed his mouth over hers.

“Hush,” he said, “I know.”

So much stood between them. It was unheard of.

He did know and yet he still did it.

Delae wanted to weep; from relief, from need.

Dorovan set her on her feet by her bed only long enough to kiss her once again, sliding his hands over her to brush both her robe and the threadbare nightdress beneath it from her shoulders. They slid to the floor with a soft whisper of sound, leaving her bared and breathless.

 “Lovely,” he breathed and she looked up at him in astonishment and wonder that he, an Elf, should think so, think one of her race so.

He smiled to see it. To him she was.

She was so small - compared to most of his folk - but sweetly curved and rounded in all the places a woman should be.

Sliding his hands down her arms he caught her around the waist, looking down and over her, letting his pleasure and satisfaction show clearly, as he would to another of his kind.

In wonder, Delae touched his face - just the lightest caress of her fingertips along his cheek - as her lips parted.

His eyes seemed to glow, a small smile curved his beautiful mouth.

She took in every inch of his face. His beauty nearly destroyed her but what she saw in his eyes did, destroying her fragile composure.

Watching his face almost shyly, she ran her hands over Dorovan’s chest, feeling the strong curved muscles there and her eyes widened with delight.

Because he knew she wouldn’t, he stripped off his tunic and watched her eyes grow round as she spanned his chest with her hands. Dorovan almost had to laugh at her evident pleasure in touching him.

She looked so much like a child faced with a wonder that his heart broke for her. It was so little for him to give. And so much. He longed to caress her himself but he gave her this moment.

Delae couldn’t get enough of touching him, of running her hands over all the beautiful sculpted lines of him. He was amazing to look at, a delight to touch, his skin beneath her fingers like warmed silk stretched over the firm curves of his muscles.

Curiosity warred within her; what did the rest of him look like?

Her gaze flashed up to his, a little sideways glance, almost abashed, as she reached for the tie to his trews.

Slowly, she tugged on the string that closed them, unconsciously seductive.

Curious, she paused with one hand on the tie while she slid the other lightly along the silken cloth to feel what was beneath it… He was rigid beneath the cloth.

His pleasure was evident in his pale eyes.

It astonished her, who was so used to rejection.

Dorovan looked down, to see Delae looking up at him in obvious delight that she could do this to him.

For a moment, her gaze dropped, widened, and she blinked. Her lips parted on a sigh.

Had his body not already grown as taut as it had, it would’ve grown even more so then.

Involuntarily, he groaned.

Delae’s gaze shot up to his.

Another groan escaped him at her touch, at that look.

He held his gaze on hers as she tugged and his trews slid free.

Gently he curled an arm around her back, lifted her to the bed and lowered her onto it. She was so beautiful, her body so welcoming, her breasts full and lovely.

He lowered his mouth to one, kissed the rosy tip.

Pleasure rang through Delae so intensely she cried out as heat shot through her in brilliant flood. She’d never felt anything like it. It was wonderful, incredible…

This first time it would go quickly, Dorovan knew. He could sense that her need was too great, she’d gone too long without. As was his desire to salve that need. It pained him to think it, knowing her sweetness. Among his folk this they did here was very nearly a sacred act - a thing of joy, of sharing and of joining.

There would be time later for finesse - for deeper delight - now he would slake her thirst and his own. He could take his time later, the storm outside without wouldn’t pass soon, he knew. His own hunger for her surprised him even as he settled his hips in the cradle of hers - felt her heat, her dampness. The anticipation of pleasure sent a surge through him as her legs parted and she took him inside her. For a moment he held them both there, rapt in pleasure as she closed so tightly around him - buried in her warmth, in the heated dampness, in the pleasure of her, his eyes closed to savor every sweet inch of her around him.

Beneath him Delae arched, a soft cry of joy escaping her.

Opening his eyes, he looked down into her face - into the heartbreaking wonder on her face as he filled her.

With deliberate slowness, Dorovan moved deeper inside her as her hands caressed him - lowering his mouth to hers once again, to kiss her deeply.

Delae tangled her hands in the silken lengths of his hair as it streamed around her, feeling the long smooth strands brush over her breasts tantalizingly. Her body bent to take him deeper, to offer him more, to offer him everything she could give - the only thing she had, herself.

It was maddening, delirious to feel Dorovan inside her, to feel the glorious pleasure of him. He filled her so very completely, stretching her; his mouth on hers, his hands on her.

Dorovan took her, in delight and a wonder of his own, sliding sweetly inside her until he claimed the very depths of her, one arm beneath and around her shoulders, the other on her hip. He raised his head to look down at her, her flaming hair spread across the thin pillows. Her blue eyes were half-lidded, fluttering, a smile of sheer glory on her lips to feel him so deep inside her.

Dorovan felt her close around him, tighten quickly. Her body arched as ecstasy burst through her.

He watched as color washed beneath her milky skin, saw her eyes widen with astonishment and then her lips curve in unadulterated delight.

It was a joy to watch her find her pleasure, to feel her pulse around him, stroke him within her.

He let her racing heart settle and then, looking down at her, began to move within her again.

To his delight he saw her eyes widen as she looked up at him. It was clear this was something she’d never known, that the one who loved her might withhold his own pleasure to give her that much more.

And himself.

He knew she watched as he lowered his mouth to her other breast, drew that tender tip into it and suckled it. Each motion of his mouth was echoed within her, her body caressed him, stroked him. He nibbled and she grew taut, her body jolting in response.

Delae couldn’t believe it, it was nearly more than she could bear - each movement of his mouth on her was hot and sweet, each sent a burst of pleasure down to where he filled her, to the core of her. She was in heaven, feeling him swell within her, to throb, to pulse.

The pleasure was no longer his to control, Dorovan felt his own ecstasy hover as she closed around him in a rapture of her own. His pleasure swelled within her, expanded, and he thrust deeply, his cheek beside hers now as she clung to him. Her hips rose to meet his as he plunged into her and then he exploded, pleasure erupting from within him, filling her even as she cried out to feel him spill into her.

Delae had never known it could be like this, so beautiful, so wonderful. The few times her husband had touched her had seemed like nothing more than the mindless rutting of the beasts in the field. Instead her body still seemed to echo with their joined pleasure even as it hummed through her veins - their bodies still locked together.