Chapter 23 #3
He helps me up, pulling me between his legs.
“I do not negotiate with brats. I will allow the company, but you will have a guard bring you down, Tristan. I shall return you.” His eyes are blazing, and he might be thinking about slicing me in two, but he’s gentle when he helps return my clothing to rights.
His dark eyes pierce me. “Corrik said we should—”
He stands abruptly, sliding a hand to the nape of my neck, gripping the roots painfully. “I know what Corrik thinks we should do. The problem, Tristan, is I’m a lot more possessive than my brother.” He breathes like he might be aching. “I want you so badly. But I want you to be mine.”
His lips are close; they’re hot.
Our foreheads touch and he closes his eyes, collecting himself. He releases me. “Go. And if I catch you out past curfew without guard or permission again, it will be my thickest strap to your bare arse.”
That angers me. I get his position, I’m lowest in the chain of hierarchy, so I can be disciplined by anyone, but Alrik’s the only one who regularly disciplines me other than Corrik.
I hate that he gets to when he’s so bloody awful.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to see me again.
I’ll stay away, I’ll stay far away from you. The nerve. And another thing—”
I don’t get to finish my sentence, Alrik’s lips are on mine, searing and heavy. It’s fast and we break away surprised that it happened, both of us panting, me with rage, him with passion. “You see? It’s stuff like that—”
“—by the Gods. Tristan, shut up!”
He shuts me up with his mouth on mine but this time it’s not a quick thing.
Our lips are secured, and his tongue is down my throat.
He inhales me as he uses one of his strong hands to knock his sword, along with all his polishing equipment, off the table.
He grips my thighs, lifting my arse onto the table.
I’m kind of in a lot of trouble now. I wanted to kiss him, but once you ignite the feral nature of an Elf, there’s every chance it won’t stop there.
But part of me didn’t believe Corrik with all his Alrik talk.
Yes, I knew there was an energy, but not this kind of energy.
I thought it was purely on a Dom-sub level, this is different. There’s real passion.
And I can’t stop either.
I’m fueled by my Elven nature now too. I want him as much as he wants me. I wrap my thighs around him, squeezing his pelvis toward mine. “You are so much better when you’re pliant underneath me like this,” he breaks away to say. “You’d look awfully pretty with a large, red, ball gag in your mouth.”
Arse! “You won’t do that, not for long. I suspect you like kissing me too much.” I smirk at him.
He growls between kisses, slamming me onto my back, leaning over top of me. He knows I’m right.
“I like kissing you too, Alrik,” I say in between yet more kissing, looking up at him sweetly.
He pauses, staring down at me like I’m a wonder of the world he’s trying to figure out. “Why are you so addictive? I have tried to stop thinking about you. I can’t.” He nuzzles his face into my neck. “I didn’t mean to get excited about marrying you, but I did.”
“I can’t say I was ever thrilled about marrying you,” I get a death glare for that one, “but I like the way you protect me. It’s different. I don’t want to let it go.” I know that’s selfish, but it also says a lot—I protect myself, that’s not an honor I would bestow onto just anyone. He knows it.
“You’ll always have my sword, Tristan.” He presses another kiss to my lips, we breathe each other in and then he helps me up and off the table. I detect the smidgeon of a smile.
“So? Do you like me better now that I’m an Elf?” My legs still hang off the table. I’m tempted to wrap them around him again, but I refrain.
He runs a hand through my hair. “You are something unworldly now. I can’t help but think you more beautiful, but your inner spark hasn’t changed, and that’s what truly drew me to you.”
“Are you saying you liked a human?”
“I’m saying I was attracted to you.” He smirks and interlaces his hand in mine.
“I’m way too much of a brat to be your full-time mate, Alrik. You’d want to kill me daily.”
“How’s that different from now?” I lean my head to his torso, he cups it with the back of his hand.
“Trust me, I’m on my best behavior around you.”
“Not likely. All right, you came to proposition me let’s have it.”
“Corrik thinks I need more, at least sometimes; an energy like what my father gave me,” I explain.
“Corrik is no slouch in that department.”
“No, but it’s not his preference. It’s not just that, he says we have an energy.”
“We do,” he agrees pressing a kiss to my lips. “So you sub for me when I call for you?”
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“I spank for teasing like that,” he tells me tilting my chin up. “Okay, I’m in, but I want something of you too—your obedience.”
“You have that.”
“Oh really? And what are you doing right now?”
“This was the only way I could talk to you!”
He takes a breath. “I will make myself more available to you.”
“Stop avoiding me you mean.”
“You don’t let me get away with a thing.”
“Neither do you,” I say.
He smiles. A real smile. “I want my mark on you too. A tattoo on your right ankle, the crown prince symbol, which will mean a piece of you belongs to me.”
“You’ll have to run that one by Corrik, but I’m fine with it.”
“Wasn’t asking, Tristan.”
“You utter arse.”
He arches a sharp brow. “Just be grateful you didn’t have to marry me.”
I stare into his dark eyes. Dare I ask? I don’t want to anger him but my brat’s curiosity has to know. Why did he take it? Why hasn’t he given it back?
“Don’t ask about that,” he says.
“Have you become a mind reader?”
“No. But while sometimes you’re a puzzle, other times you’re an open book.”
“I want it back.”
“No.”
I put a hand on my hip because I’m not sure what else to do and Papa did it to Father sometimes when he wanted his way, and Father was being an impossible brute.
He closes his eyes and opens them again, taking a scrupled breath. “Give me a little time and we can revisit it. At that juncture, you can ask permission like you’re supposed to.”
“Is that what this is about? Permission? I’m happy to ask for permission, sir.”
“That’s part of it. But I already share you with my brother. I don’t think I can handle a third person just yet.”
Right. He doesn’t know about Bayaden. “You do recall you’re the one who introduced me and Strobavik in the first place, yeah?”
“I didn’t say I was being rational or reasonable. I just know seeing the cuff on you made me want to cleave Strobavik in half a little bit more each day.”
An ocean-sized wave of tingles wash through me and I flush head to toe. Do I rile him that much? Is it wrong that I find it hot? “You’re a jealous beast.”
“I’m Elf. It’s how we are. Strobavik will understand. Now to bed with you.”
“Do I have to? I’ll bet we could have a lot more fun if I stayed,” I tell him trailing fingers up his thick arm.
He inhales my scent. “The thought of getting to use you while you’re in chastity is highly attractive to someone like me, but I’m going to wait.”
“What is it with you and Corrik waiting? I’m not chocolate cake.”
“Don’t pout.” He’s contemplative. “I need to digest this. I wasn’t planning on sharing a mate, but the Gods help me, I need you Tristan.”
I nod. It must be confusing for him. I think Alrik’s hardened himself to the world.
I bite my lip, not wanting to go, needing something from him too, something only he can bring.
He’s already spanked me and boy was it a good one.
My cheeks are hot and aching some, but there’s something in his energy that I need to be near.
“I’m already getting to know that look. Fine, you may stay for a little longer, if you promise to sit there and behave.”
“All the way over there?”
His mouth forms a line. “You’ll be the death of me.” He heaves a sigh, collecting his sword and polishing tools and then collecting me as if I too am an item. He sits me on his lap, efficiently working around me as he finishes up with his sword.
“Will you mark me again?” I ask Corrik. We get a lazy day in the sun.
It’s still a cold day, it’s always cold here save for two months of the year they call summer, which pales in comparison to summers in Markaytia or Aldrien.
We’ve spread out on a blanket under a tree with food and drink.
Corrik’s insistent we do more date-like things as per Markaytian tradition.
“Do I not mark you enough, my little Markaytian?”
I smile. “You do. I mean something permanent like this stupid thing.” Alrik made true on his tattoo threat. I had hoped Corrik would be upset about it and fight him, but he wasn’t. He was amused.
“You complained about that ‘stupid’ little thing or was that just for show?”
My face heats. “Maybe mostly for show.” I can’t help it. I love signs of ownership, it’s gotten worse now that I’m Elf. “But it’s a bit ridiculous.”
“Maybe I want my own tattoo, bigger than that one, hmmmm? What would you say to that?”
“What could I say? You three do what you will with me, no one cares about what Tristan wants.” I cross my arms. Yes I’m pouting.
“You have three alpha men who worship you, my darling. We all care a great deal about what you want. And what you want is Property of Corrik Cyredanthem tattooed on your arse.”
“Over my dead body, Corrik!”
“Alrik will hate it. He’ll want to do something even grander. Maybe you’ll become a giant tattoo.”
Okay, he’s teasing. Right? Yeah, he’s teasing. Still, I have to make sure. “Is that really what you want?” If so, I already know I’ll do it. I have a hard time denying any of them anything.
“No. I get to marry you—again. You’ll wear my ring on your finger, you’ll call me First and Second husband. That’s a big deal to me. I’ll get to make all the final decisions about us and you.”
Right. I won’t be marrying Bayaden or Alrik. And even if I did, Corrik is my first and second husband. The ways of Elvish laws are interesting. “Alrik won’t want to marry me at some point too?” They have no laws around the number of marriages in any of the Elven realms like we do in Markaytia.
“I thought you did not want to bear the responsibility of Crown Prince Consort? His title overrides mine by far. You would have to take his.”
I nod. “I don’t want that.”
“However, if he finally marries someone, they will take the title. You could become a later husband, which would give you some of his status and you would be expected to follow the rules under that status, but you would escape the full responsibility.”
“That sounds more like what I’d be comfortable with, but it’s too soon to say. I don’t know that I want more than one husband. What about you?”
He takes a breath. “Tristan, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know that I want another.
Maybe it will happen, but so far, I just want you.
” My face crumples. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want.
Sexuality is a tricky thing, not everyone is the same.
That doesn’t make any of us better or worse.
Me not wanting more than you doesn’t make you bad for wanting others. ”
“How can it not? Surely there’s someone else. You need someone more submissive than me. Let’s get that person.”
He pauses and goes very quiet. “If it will make you happy, Tristan, I will, but it would be for you.”
I can’t help the tears that fill my eyes and teeter over the brim. “I’m terrible, I’m a terrible person.”
“This is what I didn’t want, I don’t want you upset over something you can’t help. I’m just different Tristan. Different sexuality. I think I might be Tristan-sexual.”
I laugh through my tears at that because it’s so ridiculous. “You are my first love. That holds a special place in my heart.”
“I know that now. Are you ready to marry me again in three days?”
“Yes. I’d marry you now. I’d marry you a hundred times.”
“Maybe we will. We could remarry every ten years if we like. By the time you are a thousand years old, we will have married one hundred times. We can keep going too.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, but I kind of love it.”
“Then it shall be done.”