The Elven King Read Free

be better not to get Charles involved. He had a short temper, and messing with Michael might just get him killed.
    “No,” Sade said. “I’ll be fine. Michael doesn’t know where you are, and he doesn’t know where I am. I don’t see any reason to ruin your summer. He’ll have moved on in a month or two,” she added, feeling more assured as she said it. “I’m sure of it. He’ll steam and swagger around, but in a few weeks, some other young, dumb girl will catch his attention. And I’ll be yesterday’s news.”
    “You’re not stupid,” Charles said, then amended himself. “Okay, well, you are a bit of a fool when it comes to men, but you’re not stupid generally.”
    Sade smiled. “Thanks, bro.”
    “And get a gun,” Charles ordered, practical as always. “If you don’t already have one. You’ll need to defend yourself. Shoot the bastard off of your front step and make sure he falls inside the door.”
    “Right…” Sade had no plans to shoot anyone, ever. Still, it was good to know her brother cared.
    After a couple more minutes of small talk, Sade finally managed to get her brother off the phone. Lying back against the cool sheet, she felt the dream of moonlight stir in her thoughts again.
    It must have been stress, she decided. A new environment. Any of these things could get a girl hot and bothered.
    The remnants of arousal lingered in Sade’s flesh. Languidly, she touched herself.
    Memories of moonlight and strong fingers guided her hands, and she ground her cheek into the pillow as with one hand she pinched her nipple, the sharp pain beating a tantalizing counterpoint to the work of her other hand rubbing her clit. Soon she lost herself only to sensation, rutting against her fingers as she grew wetter and wetter.
    The edge came, sweet and strong, cresting as the orgasm ripped through her body. She circled her clit with delicate touches, and came a second time.
    Then, spent, she sprawled, legs parted, the night air tickling against her juices as she drifted. As her eyes shut, blue suffused her vision. An inhuman blue, like the sky before a storm… like a memory or a dream.
     
     

Chapter 2: Prince Aranion
    Aranion, the first son of the elven king, awoke, panting, his flesh on fire from within.
    He’d never had a dream like this before -- one that left him aching with want through every pore. His memory of it was disjointed but vibrant: a soft, mortal woman, pliable in his arms, moaning sweetly against his neck, him holding her in place, running his fingers over her smooth brown skin as he wrested pleasure from her…
    Blinking away the memory, if not the arousal, Aranion rolled his shoulders to bring feeling back to his hands. Wild trees were not made for comfort, and Aranion’s neck had a crick from where he had slept, his back propped against the rough trunk. At his right hand lay his bow, and at his left a silken sack that contained the supplies he’d stolen in his escape.
    The rangers would catch up with him eventually. Truthfully, he was surprised they hadn’t found him yet.
    Maybe the dream was a sign that Aranion had stayed here too long. Or —could it be a sign that there was some part of him that was looking forward to his wedding night with something other than terror?...
    No, he thought firmly. The woman in his dream had been hot and crackling; touching her was like an autumn festival of burning leaves. It was nothing like the alabaster shock that had passed through his body when his and Princess Lairelithoniel’s fingers had touched at the formal engagement, chilling Aranion to his bones.
    Aranion breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to bring his body back to order before he stood up. The dream, likely as not, had been born of fear and physical exhaustion.
    And he was exhausted. Though Aranion had explored the outer woods through his youth and knew them well, better than most who never ventured beyond the sculpted World-trees that housed the Elven court, he’d never