Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
“ M y heart?” I squint at him.
He releases one of my hands and moves my long hair aside. “Yes.”
“But I thought—”
“—I am well aware of what you thought, but it isn’t true. Well, not all true. I do intend on taking you for my enjoyment as often as I like.”
I shiver and my already hardened cock begins to ache. Damn him for being attractive and sexy in every way. In moments he’s sitting up beneath me, and his mouth is on my neck, hungry and possessive as he teases the skin with his teeth. A moan escapes my lips.
My vow not to have sex with him long forgotten, I join my lips with his and open them to make way for his tongue. His hands wrap around my body and pull me to him. I press my cock along the curve of his belly, and his hands find my ass squeezing my cheeks hard. I moan again, but this time into his mouth. He sucks me into a kiss, and I can’t breathe until he releases my mouth. I pant as I look into glowing purple eyes. With one sharp tug, he flips me on my back and the glowing, ultra-violet eyes pin me in place. “Alvin is nothing to me and you are everything. Never doubt that.”
I swallow, and nod as I fist the cotton sheets, and he attacks my mouth again. Wet pre-come leaks from my weeping cock and I want him to just fuck me already—but I won’t say it, y et .
His mouth moves down my body; he licks and sucks his way to the crease of my inner thigh, right next to my poor cock who begs for attention. He gets none. Corrik’s mouth nips the sensitive skin next to my cock, and I thrust my hips at him hoping he’ll take me inside. Instead, he pops his mouth off my thigh and breathes on the poor bastard till I finally beg. “Corrik, damn it.”
“Problem D’orhai?”
“You know there is. Please. ”
He uses his tongue to coat my entrance with saliva and my cock hurts more—it’s not what I had in mind; it’s making things worse. He circles a finger around the smooth, wet, ring of muscle there, and teases the opening before sliding his wet finger inside. When he does, he hits the spot inside of me that makes me whimper with more pleasure and soon there is a second finger added. I don’t hear myself request the third, but it’s there and before long he’s hitting that lovely spot inside of me, reducing me to a quivering bundle of nerves.
“Corrik, please. I need you inside me.”
“How can I refuse you when you beg so prettily?”
My knees end up by my ears, my legs splayed obscenely open, and he drives his large cock into me, angling just so to hit that nice spot inside me, over and over. I’m groaning and almost screaming his name, but I don’t think anything I’m saying is intelligible. I’m too overcome with torturous pleasure as he makes my body climb to the peak of climax without allowing me to go over. It’s driving me insane in the best way. He’s claiming me all over again and I love every frustrating second.
“Come for me beautiful boy,” he says as he drives his cock over the magic spot inside me. I come hard and so does Corrik, releasing his seed into me. He rolls off me and I’m left to pant labored breaths and gain my bearings. My hand has fallen on his stomach, he’s not breathing as hard as I am, but I feel sweat glisten there—I remember what he said earlier about sweat.
“How about now?” he asks.
“What?”
“Do you hate me now?”
That isn’t fair him asking me a question like that after intense, wild, passionate sex. “I hate you a little less.”
“No matter. Seeing as pounding my cock into you seems to be the key to you hating me a little less each time, I’ll have you in love with me by the time we reach Mortouge.”
“Love you? That’s a bit much to expect considering.”
“I’m the Elven prince—men would kill to be with me. You should feel lucky I chose you.”
“You arrogant, self-centered, prick. You think I could love you after you’ve taken me from my home? If you wanted me to love you, why not court me?”
“Because I wanted to make sure you were mine. I take what I want, I don’t beg or ask,” he growls, not sorry for any of it. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with arranged marriages—Mother and Father had one.”
I know that already. Arranged marriages are less common than they used to be in Markaytia but are still the norm in most other places. Father and Papa fell in love and married with ample consent from Grandfather before he passed. I foolishly thought the same would happen for me. “And if my uncle had refused your offer?”
“I would have taken you anyway.”
“I see, so if polite and civilized, doesn’t work, you barge in and take what you want.”
“I won’t lie to you Tristan—trust is too important amongst Elves—I’m sorry if it makes you continue to hate me, but at least you can depend on me to tell you the truth if nothing else.”
I change the subject. “Why do you keep calling me by my Markaytian name? I thought I’m an Elf now? ”
“It upsets you.”
“That doesn’t seem to stop you from doing what you want, Corrik.”
“Yes true, but I don’t want to be angry with you and when you are upset, you anger me.”
I’m quiet for a while as the night washes over me and the exhaustion from the sex seeps into me, my eyes slowly close.
“Oh no you don’t, D’orhai. I’m not finished with you yet,” is the last thing I hear before Corrik is on me again and takes me as many times as he desires before he allows me some sleep.
Not that I’m complaining. If I get the opportunity to see Lucca again, I might have to tell him he was right—sex is glorious. Especially when I’ve got this massive Elf to take me. I’m so large. I’m not sure it would have been possible for me to get this kind of rush with a human. I’m stronger than most Markaytians.
But Corrik, he can consume me. He seems to understand he doesn’t have to be gentle. I pass out a happy boy.
I wake up exhausted and sore.
I was awoken too many times during the night by a sex-crazed Elf with a cock I can’t seem to say no to.
“I forget you’re only human,” he says as he watches me rub sleep from my eyes and gingerly move from our bed to wash up. It’s barely past dawn and we must be on our way.
“I’m fine.” I’m not a porcelain doll.
We make it downstairs to a full pub-style breakfast of eggs, sausage, stewed tomatoes, fresh bread, and ale. Alvin is serving our crowd of course, but an older man who looks like him with the same dark hair peppered with grey and two women, one younger and one older, assist him.
I don’t know Corrik near well enough yet, but since last night I see differences in the way he is with Alvin and me. To Alvin, he offers the same polite smirk he did last night, with me, there is a warm comfort that doesn’t exist between the two of them. It’s not enough to appease me—I only feel a little less like I want to slit Alvin’s throat—and I wonder where this strange jealousy comes from? It’s not like I should care, but I do. Maybe him being my husband creates an innate sense of possessiveness?
“Desist your glaring at once,” Corrik scolds me.
“Fine,” I snap in no mood to argue. I’m sitting on my sore arse and I’m grouchy because I’m tired. I plaster on a fake smile. I almost get through breakfast, but that Alvin bastard decides to touch my Corrik. Without thinking about it, I grab his wrist and twist it behind his back. The plates he’s holding crash to the ground, loud, drawing unwanted attention my way. None of the Elven eyes staring on deter me from my mission of putting this guy in his place.
“Do not touch my husband again,” I hiss in his ear.
It’s as far as I get before Corrik grabs me by both my arms and pulls me off Alvin, tossing me backward. I’m only just able to get my footing when he scolds and demands. “That’s no way to treat our hosts. Apologize.”
“Never.”
Father and Papa would be appalled at my behavior, and I’d never have spoken to Father that way. I’d have apologized immediately.
Alvin looks at me with a sneer on his face. “I thought Elves had better restraint over their spouses, your highness?”
Asshole. This man knows more about Elves than he ought to.
“Yes, an oversight on my part, which I plan to rectify this instant. Come.” He grabs me roughly and drags me through a silent pub. The rest of the guard has returned to eating, but I know they are aware of their new prince being dragged up the stairs like a misbehaved five-year-old. We return to our room from last night. The bed is still disheveled, but our things have been removed and packed with our horses. Corrik throws me against the wall, my back hits it hard and he slams the door shut.
I seethe with anger at him, at Alvin, at the situation I find myself in. What will he do to me? I may be a formidable fighter, but I know I’m no match for an Elf, especially not Corrik.
“I’ve been lenient with you. I should’ve punished you from the start, on our wedding night. Now, you dare disobey me in front of others? I cannot let this go. My leniency was a mistake.”
“He had his hands on you. What would you have done if it were the other way ‘round?”
“I would not have been pleased.”
“Then you are a hypocrite if you punish me for the same thing.”
“I am not punishing you for that—I felt it prudent you apologize considering the circumstances, and you chose to disobey me— that is why you will be punished. Pull your trousers down, now .”
My cheeks heat as I realize what he intends to do. “You can’t spank me like a child. I won’t let you.”
“I’ll spank you however I see fit—you’re mine. Besides, who’s here to stop me?” His eyes are pure challenge, and he has a point—no one could stop him, and no one would dare try. Damn Elves would probably agree I deserve it.
“Me. I say you can’t—you said you would never touch me unless I gave you permission, I don’t give you permission. I don’t deserve it—not like before.”
“That was in reference to sex, and I will keep my promise in that regard. The same does not apply for punishment—that doesn’t make any sense—who desires punishment? How often does the person being punished agree they should be punished? Did you agree with every law and consequence in Markaytia?”
“Well, no.”
“Yet you agreed to live there and thus obey all laws set by Markaytian rule. Now you have agreed to become an Elf, thus you will obey our laws or suffer the consequences. People need punishment; they seldom want it. I am your husband so I will decide when, where and what your punishments will be. You will accept them whether you want them or not. You will eventually come to trust my judgment in this matter, but for now, you’re just not going to like me very much.”
Fuck. I really can’t stop him—he’s going to go through with this, and he’s right: I did agree to follow Elvish law when I married Corrik, hell, I vowed to obey him on our wedding day. There’s only one thing left I can do—I’m not above begging. “Corrik, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I won’t disobey you again—don’t do this. It’s undignified.”
“Ah, your Markaytian sensibilities again,” he says. “No matter. They will dissipate too in time. I dare say some already have. I guarantee that after this experience, you will have learned to listen when I give an order. Enough of this nonsense and do as I have instructed you. If I have to do it for you, it will be worse.”
With as much pride as I have left, I pull down my trousers.
“You’re an intelligent man. I think you’ve gathered enough from what I’ve said that I don’t need to lecture you further—why must I spank you?”
“Because I disobeyed you,” I say, my cheeks as flushed as they can be, hot tears of frustration leak from my eyes.
“Correct. I can afford to be more lenient when you disobey me in private, but in public, you cannot be seen defying me.”
I nod instead of arguing like I want to since that will be seen as more defiance. I’m thrust over his lap, and he slips his fingers under the waistband of my undergarments to take the last of my dignity, making my arse bare and ready for his hand. Corrik is strong—I already knew that—but it’s impressed upon me again when his hand hits my arse. It hurts .
“Fuck. Corrik. Not so bloody hard!”
“I dare say it’s imprudent to curse when one is being punished,” he says as he continues.
Corrik uses a maddening pattern of three whacks to one side and three to the other, over and over, and over. I work at holding still, thinking if I do this it somehow saves my dignity, but it gets harder to remain still as the spanking progresses. The burning is unpleasant. It stings, and I want to be let up.
“Corrik, I’m sorry. Please .”
“I won’t allow disobedience,” he says, continuing to spank me. “You will obey me.”
It gets harder to remain still and without wanting to, I attempt to move out of target range. He tightens his grip, and all I can do is kick my legs. I’m not quick to tears, but they start falling, and I cry over my helplessness. There’s nothing I can do. I’m getting this spanking for however long he decides I’m getting it.
It’s a long time before he’s decided I’ve had enough. He helps me stand up, returns my clothes to rights and then pulls me in between his knees so that I have to look him in the eyes.
“You have two minutes to wash your face and return downstairs. You will apologize to everyone, specifically to our hosts, which includes Alvin. You will sit beside me and not utter another word for the rest of breakfast.”
“Yes, Corrik.”
When he’s gone, I run to the little washing-up room, and pull down my trousers and pants to see what it looks like after a spanking like that. My arse is pretty red, but it’s not bruised like it feels. I rub it to try and remove some of the sting, but it still throbs—Corrik has proven himself at yet another talent. I’m still miffed about Alvin, but I don’t plan on disobeying Corrik anytime soon.
And I… I dunno. I’m mollified. Things have been stressful. Getting to kick and cry and push against Corrik has relieved me in some way—I feel like a mountain of gold. Plus, I might have been dramatic. Still, don’t I get some after-spanking comfort? Even my father, strict as he was, handed out some kind of balm afterward.
Two minutes isn’t near enough to wash myself up properly, and when I return downstairs, I’m sure everyone can see evidence on my face that I’ve just been disciplined.
I make my apologies to the crowd, our hosts, and Alvin—who smirks at me like the prick he is—and then take my place beside Corrik. I’m sure it’s transparent how uncomfortable I am. I want to crawl under a rock. I’ll be glad when we leave Umbria, never to return. I eat in silence, not in the mood to talk with anyone. Alvin comes 'round a lot. He fills Corrik’s water, flirts with him, but at least he never touches him. Corrik does not respond to his advances, using a kind of indifferent voice I hope he never uses with me.
“Are you all right?” Corrik asks on our way out to the stables. “Do you need to ride with me again?”
It’ll be any wonder if I can ride at all. My arse still throbs. “I’ll be okay, Corrik,” I say, careful to keep my voice even.
Corrik nods to one of his men, and I’m given my horse.
“Hello, Waii,” I greet her. She seems to remember me and gives a small whinny, scuffing her hooved foot—I didn’t realize I made such an impression. I smile. Corrik watches the interaction between Waii and me.
“I wish I had your talent for making creatures fall in love with you,” he says. “I’m trying to tame this dragon you see.”
He’s flirting, and I think about ignoring him, but decide that’s probably not the best plan after just having been spanked. I don’t have to be flirtatious, but there’s nothing stopping him tossing me over a bale of hay in here if I’m rude. I can’t hold back my retort. “It’s easy. It’s called kindness.”
“There you are—my dragon warrior—I thought I lost you.”
“You ordered me not to speak.”
“For the duration of the meal. You may speak again,” he teases.
“Yes, your liege.”
“Oh, come now, will you pout about that punishment all day? It should be forgotten—that’s how it works.”
I’m not mad at him, not really. I actually feel relaxed —but he doesn’t have to know that. “I wouldn’t know how it works—apparently I’m to learn by experience,” I say, and mount my horse. It’s more uncomfortable than the bench was at breakfast. I instantly hop off and look to Corrik as a form of complaint. I can see the regret in his eyes—that he didn’t spank me harder—but he does take some pity on me.
“Let’s walk together awhile. I didn’t spank you that hard—you’ll be fine to ride again in a few hours—we’ll take a smaller guard so we can make better time when we want to catch up to the others.”
I’m surprised he’d make such a concession. “Thanks.”
“Just be sure to tell my mother about this—she seems to think of all her sons, I’m the only one incapable of kindness.”
Corrik keeps his word, and we walk alone leading our horses with only ten or so of the guard. The stony Elf is quiet for hours and so am I—until I can’t stand it anymore.
“They are very beautiful,” I say, looking toward the small guard we have with us.
“All Elves are.”
Apparently, they are not humble. “Will I be that beautiful when I become an Elf?”
“You will be the most beautiful Elf there is. Since you are already beautiful, when you become an Elf, your features will be unmatched.”
I’m not in the mood to hear his compliments. “Where will we go now?”
“We’ll head South another day, then make our way northeast for another two. A ship waits for us in Port Tyreadin.”
“A ship?”
“Yes. Have I finally found something that scares my great Markaytian dragon warrior?”
“No, I just haven’t been on a ship.”
“Scared.”
“Not scared.”
“Terrified.”
“ Corrik .” I try to push him, but it’s like pushing a slab of stone. He laughs at my attempt.
I try harder, plowing my entire body into him sideways—he barely misses a step and grabs me by the hand whipping my body into his as he presses his lips to mine, hungry. I respond in kind, my tongue twines around his—for a moment—until I realize we have company and I pull away from him. Our horses have long stopped walking and so has our small guard of ten. They aren’t looking at us, but I blush all the same.
Corrik shakes his head. “We must cure you of your Markaytian sensibilities, D’orhai. Things are very different in Mortouge.”
He keeps saying that, but it’s all the explanation I get before his tongue wraps around mine again. This time he squeezes the sore cheeks of my arse, and my cock lights up like a firecracker. I moan into his lips. He pulls away and leaves me gasping for breath.
“Come.”
With the nod of his head as a signal to our guard, he pulls me with him to an alcove in the trees. I look up; all I can see are the tips of the pines as they reach toward the sky. It’s dark in here, but there is sun peeking through the holes between the trees and I can’t hear a sound. Not even the footsteps of the giant Elf that accosts me, slams me to the ground, and feasts on my neck. I’m panting, my cock is rock hard, the skin on my arse aches—I want him, but not enough to stop thinking about the guards that can probably hear us, even deep in the trees. They are Elves, and with that comes enhanced auditory as well as superior optic capabilities.
“Corrik,” I pant. “Please. Can’t we do this later?”
“But I want you now.” He continues down my body and rips my trousers open, my cock is happy to see him. Corrik notices.
“You see?” he says as he grips my cock at its base. “ He wants to play with me. You’re outvoted.”
He swallows my cock in one bite, and in the wet cavern of his mouth, my cock finds such delight he stops all flow of blood to my brain, and I don’t think of the other Elves any longer. I didn’t realize the powers my prick possessed till now. For a man who never smiles, his lips are awfully smug around my cock—still don’t care—as he sucks. Two fingers slide into his mouth next to my cock then they move to circle my hole. The mixture of sensations—my sore arse, the tingles he sends around my hole with his wet fingers— unreal .
I buck my hips further into his mouth until I’m sure I’ll feel throat, but I don’t so I keep fucking his mouth. I think I’m going to come, but I think wrong. As if he senses my impending orgasm, he pops his mouth off my cock and kneels up pulling his cock out of his pants.
“Suck.”
The order sends a jolt of pleasure to my cock, who is lonely and cold without Corrik’s mouth. I scramble to obey. I don’t have as easy a time as he did. I’m not practiced—scratch that—I’ve never done this before, but how hard can it be?
Really fucking hard .
Corrik’s cock is huge. If I thought it was big as it pounded into me on our wedding night, I didn’t know what the word big meant.
I do my best and try to fake like I’m a natural, swallowing his cock down like he did mine. I gag like the amateur I am. I pull back to regain my breath and my pride and resume a little less eagerly.
“By Ylor!”
Corrik doesn’t seem to care about my lack of experience. He shoves his cock further into my mouth, it hits the back of my throat and I gag again. His fingers grip my hair as he continues to fuck my mouth. I try to relax my throat wanting to be better at this, but there’s no hope, he’s too big. My gagging doesn’t seem to bother him, and it doesn’t bother me I realize. I’m still able to breathe, and I like it. I like the feeling of him over me, his large hand in my hair and in control—my cock aches. I want more like this, but I don’t know what the “more” is exactly.
Corrik does. “Off,” he says, but he physically removes me from his cock with his hand still in my hair.
“Turn around. Put your hands on the ground.”
I do. Yes, sir.
His hands rip my pants the rest of the way off. They trace over my sore arse. I wince. It still hurts. “I like this, Kathir. I like this very much—seeing your arse red, knowing it’s because I made it this way. Your bottom is going to be this red a lot.”
I groan at that. It may feel good during sex to have a sore arse, but it did not feel good during the receiving—nothing about it—and it doesn’t feel good the rest of the time either. I hear the pop of a cork. Does Corrik keep lubricant on his person at all times?
Yep. Yep he does. He slicks the cool liquid up and down my crack as he dips a finger into my hole, which he’s loosened some.
“When you’re an Elf, we won’t need lube, Tristan,” he whispers, then works two fingers in, then three, until I’m open enough. He positions his cock at my entrance and once again his large member pounds deep into me.
“By Gods. Corrik—Ow!” I say as he smacks my arse. He responds by doing it again. Oh yeah, that’s right, he likes my ass red by his doing. My cock likes it too, combined with his cock being in my arse—fucking traitor—I’m outvoted again so I give in and enjoy. I moan and arch into each thrust and slap, my fingers dig into the dirt until I see stars. I spurt hot come at the ground beneath me; he moans too as he releases his come into me.
We both fall to the ground panting. He’s out of breath too— for once . He spoons me and pulls the hair from my face, planting a kiss on my cheek.
“Why do you hate me?”
I don’t expect that question—not after sex like that. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then it can’t be important.”
“It is.”
“Then I order you to tell me.”
“Is that how it’s always going to be? I don’t want to do something, so you order me to do it?”
“I always get my way D’orhai,” he says.
I push away from him; he grips me tighter.
“Not always,” I say, even if it’s been true so far. “I’m going to win this time. ”
“Win?”
“Yes, win.”
“Win what? I wasn’t aware we were at war—I assumed that we were on the same side.”
“No. We are at war—I was meant to follow my father and become Warlord. You’ve taken that from me, and now I’m an Elven concubine, a bed slave, a nobody. I hate you for it.” There, he wanted to know why I hate him, he knows now. He wins again.
“ Beloved nobody,” he teases. He doesn’t deny the rest. Stupid Elf .
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you—you don’t care anyway.”
“I’m sorry I took the future you thought you would have.”
“Not sorry enough.”
“No, but only because I know we belong together.”
I try again, to pry free from his hold, but can’t. “Corrik, shouldn’t we head back?”
“We will, but we’re not done talking.”
“What more is there?”
“You need someone like me,” he declares. “You just don’t know it yet. You are better off with me than without me.”
Arrogant bastard. “How can you know that?”
“Elves can see . We have visions.”
“I don’t believe in hocus pocus, Corrik.”
“Wait until you get to Mortouge, D’orhai. You will wonder why you didn’t. And Tristan? You aren’t nobody to me.”
I want to ask more questions, but one of the men from our guard barrels into the forest.
“Prince Corrik, come quickly, your sword is needed.”