A King for Sarna

Sarna shook her head, bringing her arms up to return the embrace. The muscles of Elan's back quivered as they filled her palms with delicious maleness. "Don't stop, my lord," she told him. "I ache now for your kiss."

Elan pressed his lips to Sarna's, tentatively at first, almost questioningly. But Sarna understood what he was about, for the sorceress had done the same. A kiss, for a Being of Power, was the way he or she deepened understanding of the other's essence. If he went on after the initial touch of their lips, Sarna would know he had admitted her into his heart.

Sarna parted her lips ever so slightly, inviting the sorcerer to taste more of her. Her heart raced, pounding with great speed in her breast, and her stomach felt like a ball of fire burning in her depths. So anxious was she, that the air grew still to her ears, silence drowning the rush of the waterfall.

She waited.

The sorcerer opened his lips, his warm breath filling her mouth. Unable to help herself, Sarna melted against him. She parted her legs, allowing his hardness to slip between them, where it rested against her slit. When Elan ventured the tip of his tongue past Sarna's lips, Sarna surged with joy, a strange small cry issuing from her throat as she met his tongue with hers. She dared to let her hands roam over his back, grazing the ridges of muscle along his spine and downward, coming to rest on his hips. Ever so lightly, Sarna squeezed them, unable to stop herself from rubbing against his erection.

Elan moaned softly and slipped his tongue fully into Sarna's mouth, claiming it. He tasted every soft warm corner, suckling her tongue, nibbling her lips. Sarna let out soft moans, her legs rising up in the water to encircle his hips. The sorcerer's warm breath pulsed into Sarna and hers into him as her body begged for their joining.

Elan, however, possessed the restraint Sarna lacked, and she felt him holding himself back. He seemed to want to remain as they were, mouths joined in a deep, exploring kiss, their wet, naked bodies pressed together, inviting the promise of future pleasure and sweet love.

Sarna let him guide her, giving only as much as he asked of her, taking only what he offered. Selfishness and force had no place in a loving heart, and Sarna did not wish to hurt anyone by trying to impose her will, much less on these Beings of Power who had won her devotion.

The sunlight in the clearing had begun to slant and fade when Elan finally ended their kiss. Once again he put his hands on her shoulders and gazed at her. His eyes still smoldered like hot pools of obsidian. "The sorceress told me you would come," he said in a low husky tone.

Sarna stared at him, wide-eyed. Her lips, breasts and sex were swollen with need, aching from the long kiss. "The sorceress?" Her voice was small and far away in her ears, like a distant child's. Their kiss had been so beautiful, so promising, and now she feared he would reject her when she told him the truth. What if he joined with the sorceress? Sarna would have seduced the man who was her sorceress' true destiny! She began to tremble.

Elan held her trembling body against his. "Aye," he said softly. "I know 'twas she you loved." He reached up and touched her cheek. "Don't be afraid." With his other hand, he drew her long damp braid over her shoulder, bringing it to lie on her right breast.

Sarna closed her eyes as his fingertips brushed its soft roundness. "Aye, Sarna," he replied. "She told me how good you were to her and how much you craved to love and be loved." Tenderly, he traced her braid with his fingertips, allowing his touch to wander along the skin between her breasts. "She told me to wait here, that you would come and find me. She believed 'twas I you were meant to love."

Sarna's eyes filled with tears. A mixture of intense feelings churned within her all at once, not the least of which was relief. "Oh!" she cried softly. "Did...was...were you the one she sought?"

Elan smiled. "Aye, I was," he answered. "But only for the purpose of helping her to vanquish the abusers. Once that had been done, she wanted only to return to her home, to her master, the man who claimed her heart long ago."

Sarna slumped over, her body sagging from the force with which her emotions passed through her. Elan held her. His embrace comforted her and she surrendered to it fully, allowing her weight to lean on him. His hand cradled the back of her head and he pressed his lips into the soft skin of her neck.

"It's all right, Sarna," he told her. "You have a soft and loving heart." He lifted her away from him so he could peer into her golden eyes. "Would you come and stay with me? I would like your company." A warm smile came to his lips. "We could see in time whether the sorceress was right."

Sarna returned his smile. She felt a surge of joy that brought forth her tears. "Yes, my Lord," she answered. "I, too, wish to know."

Elan kissed her. "Come, then, we should go now. 'Twill be dark and cold soon." He took Sarna's hand and drew her out of the water. They dressed, and Sarna took up her rucksack and crossbow. Elan led her from the clearing back up to the river, which they followed again.

Just as the third Weiran sun was about to disappear, they reached another clearing in the middle of which stood a cottage, a humble but cozy-looking dwelling. A well stood in the center of the small yard, around which was a vegetable garden and a few chickens pecking at the ground.

Elan stopped and turned to her. "Welcome to my home, Mistress Sarna," he said, gesturing to the little house.

Sarna furrowed her brow. She had been to this part of the Sylvan Lands many times, but had never seen this cottage before. She looked up at Elan. "My Lord," she began. "I apologize, but I'm confused. This cottage, is it new? I know these lands well and this spot has always been bare."

"Aye," he said bowing his head. "Magery. I've been hidden here all my life. 'Twas only a wizard's illusion that made this clearing appear empty." Elan reached out and took Sarna's rucksack from her shoulder. "Come. It's time for food and a warm fire. I will tell you everything. I wish there to be no secrets between us."

Elan brought Sarna inside and busied himself with building a fire in the hearth and preparing the evening meal. He left Sarna to dry her hair and change out of her traveling clothes, which needed a washing. Sarna put on the one gown she'd brought with her, a beautiful dress of crushed green velvet that clung to her figure and was trimmed in embroidery around the edge of the neckline and bell-shaped sleeves. She also traded her boots for woven sandals, and left her golden hair loose.

When she came to the table, Elan caught his breath. He held her chair out for her. "Mistress Sarna," he said, "You are almost as breathtaking in your gown as out of it."

Sarna smiled. "Thank you, my lord."

Toward the end of their meal of stew with thick slices of bread and freshly churned butter, Sarna ventured to ask Elan what he had meant when he said his life had always been in danger.

"My mother was a queen," Elan said. He poured her a second cup of warm mead. "Mayhap you knew her, Queen Maya?"

Sarna caught her breath. She had met the beautiful Pierran queen on one occasion, and had found her an impressive woman. But Maya had been assassinated eight years earlier. Maya's son, Prince Dorian had replaced her on the throne.

"Aye, I met her once at a banquet," Sarna answered. "But I..." She put a gentle hand on Elan's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said.

Elan stopped and looked at her. "Your sentiment is kind," he said. "But in truth, I barely knew her. I was but five when she sent me to live here with Orax, my teacher." He grinned. "And a passel of beautiful witches who raised me."

"You are King Dorian's brother..." Sarna began.

"Half-brother," he corrected. "Dorian's father was the true king, my mother's husband. My father was a Veltish minister named Sarek. 'Twas he Maya loved. But their affair was, of course, illicit. When I was born, Maya passed me off as a kitchen slave's child as long as she could. But my resemblance to her was strong, and she feared the king would learn of my existence and have me killed. Orax had served her as an oracle. She trusted him and knew he'd take good care of me. He took me in and kept me under a spell of concealment. My hiding ended when the sorceress and I vanquished the abusers."

"I'm sorry, lord Elan, that you had to endure such a trial," Sarna told him when he'd finished speaking.

Elan took a sip of mead. "Thank you," he said. "But 'twas not all bad," he said. "I'd rather be here in this humble place with a teacher of wisdom than in that cold marbled place, dodging corrupt ministers and palace intrigues."

Sarna nodded. "Aye. What you say is wise." She smiled at Elan and watched his dark eyes begin to smolder under her gaze. She felt the tingling of attraction between them and longed to be in his arms again.

Elan reached out and touched her cheek. Slowly and sensuously he traced a path across her cheek to her lips, parting them slightly with the tip of his thumb. "I am curious about you as well, Sarna," he said, his voice growing husky. "But I really wish right now to pick up where we left off in the water." He stroked his thumb lightly back and forth across her lower lips, watching her gold eyes. "What say you?"

Sarna's lids fluttered halfway closed and her breathing grew heavier. She felt her breasts swell and push against her snug gown and the pulsing begin between her thighs. "Aye, my lord," she whispered. "I wish for the same."

Elan rose from his chair and took Sarna's hand, drawing her to her feet. He led her over to the fire where his bed was, a pallet thickly piled with furskins. Though it appeared modest, Sarna found the bed exquisitely soft and comfortable, such as she was accustomed to sleeping on at home.

Elan laid Sarna back and gently pushed her gown up toward her hips, bidding her to slip it off over her head. As she did he went to her feet and removed her sandals. Then he pulled off his own boots. Sarna sat up and helped him off with his trousers and tunic, tugging at them with growing urgency.

When he, too, was naked, Elan put his arms around Sarna, capturing her lips in a lusciously deep kiss. Sarna parted her lips eagerly, moaning softly when Elan slipped his tongue between them and melted against hers. His lips tasted of the honey from the mead. His skin and hair carried the intoxicating aromas of wood smoke and herbs.

Sarna's hands roamed once again over the ridges and sinews of muscle on Elan's back, his skin warm and masculine. Her need surged down below, and Sarna fell back onto the furskins, pulling Elan down on top of her. She parted her legs so Elan could nest between them. His erection pressed along the lips of her vagina and Sarna let her pelvis undulate against him, bidding him to fill her.

Elan, however, showed the same restraint as he had earlier, for though he moaned when she rubbed against him and squeezed his buttocks, he didn't take her. He lifted his lips from hers and smiled down at her, his dark eyes both dusky and mischievous. "I am intent on savoring you, huntress," he said in a husky tone from deep in his throat. "Will you submit?"

Sarna gazed back up at him from her half-closed lids, her body weak and pliant. The throbbing between her thighs reached a pitch and she could feel the cream gathering in her opening, ready for the thrust of Elan's cock.. "Aye, my lord. I submit."

Elan smiled again. "Good," he whispered. He bent his head to Sarna's neck and began a slow, sensuous trail of nibbles and licks on her flesh. Sarna moaned and dug her fingertips into his buttocks, trying to pull her more tightly against him, begging for his shaft inside her. But Elan ignored her plea, gently grasping her wrists and bringing her hands up above her head, pressing them lightly down into the furs. When he had Sarna in hand, Elan continued his slow, tortuous trail of kisses down Sarna's chest to her breasts. Leisurely, sensuously, he tasted each one, suckling and licking each dusky pink nipple to hardness. Sarna moaned from the pleasure and arched against her restraint, lost in the bliss of surrender.

Elan rubbed his erection against her sensitive spot just for a moment before slipping downward on her body, trailing feathery kisses down her stomach and over her tawny curls. His hands slipped from around her wrists, down the soft flesh of her inner arms to rest on her breasts. Elan lowered his face to her opening where the pink skin glistened and swelled with need. He ran the tip of his tongue along the slit, flickering it slowly over her clit, causing her to moan. Then he slid his hands down her body and gently parted the lips, encircling the pink rose of flesh with his lips tongue.

Sarna's hands stole down to Elan's soft hair, pulling off the leather tie that bound his plait. The dark waves fell about his shoulders onto her thighs and she stroked them gently, entwining her fingers in the tresses. Under her hands she could feel the movement of his head as it moved between her thighs, bringing her to the edge of orgasm.

Sarna moaned loudly and felt her musk surge. Elan lifted his face and gazed into her eyes. Sarna looked back at him, her breasts rising and falling with her ragged breaths, her eyes pleading with him to fill her. He lowered his head again and took her sensitive nub between his lips, suckling until Sarna careened again toward the edge of an explosion.

Only then did he stop and climb up onto her. "Put me in you, Sarna," he whispered before claiming her mouth in a deep kiss. Sarna obeyed, lightly grasped Elan's hard shaft and guiding it to her opening.

Elan slid in, burying his cock in Sarna to the base. Sarna spread her legs wide, her sheath taut and swollen. She squeezed the ring of muscle tightly around him, eliciting another groan.

He began to move, slowly, in long sensuous thrusts, just enough movement to stay hard inside Sarna. Their mouths stayed locked together in a deep kiss, their breaths mingling and flowing into each other. Sarna closed her eyes, her whole body tingling with arousal and a sweet sense of peace all at once. She hugged Elan tightly to her as he caressed her hair. Sarna wished she could stay forever like that, with Elan inside her, his breath pulsing gently into her mouth. Perhaps, she thought, this was the closest she could ever get to her god

For a long time, Elan and Sarna remained as they were, their mouths and bodies joined. Elan, who had been moving just enough to stay hard, began thrusting harder and faster, grinding against Sarna's clit in tight circles. Sarna was so pent up and her sex so fluid and swollen from Elan's licking and kissing and teasing that it took only moments for her to climax, the intensely pleasurable spasms rippling through her womb. Sarna moaned with each contraction and then went limp, gazing languidly up at Elan, who still moved inside her.

The orgasm had left her exquisitely sensitive and Elan's thrusts rubbed her clit and opening deliciously. Sarna tightened her muscle around his erection and began to move with him, eager to bring him to his own ecstatic release. She grabbed onto his buttocks, pulling him deep inside her, squeezing and thrusting her hips in time with his until he, too, moaned and she could feel his seed pulsing into her.

Elan collapsed gently onto Sarna, breathing heavily, his fingers entwined in her golden hair. She turned her face to his and kissed him tenderly on the lips, then stroked his back and hair, her eyes closed, a content smile on her lips.

Gradually, Elan's breathing steadied and he softened and slipped from between her legs. He rolled off of her and pulled her to him, molding his body to hers like a pair of nesting spoons. He held her, placing soft, tender kisses on her back and shoulder. "I think, Queen Sarna," he said softly between kisses, "that very soon you will rule my heart."

Sarna took Elan's hand and pressed it to her lips. "And I think, King Elan," she answered, "That you already rule mine."

Elan chuckled. "What a kingdom we hall have." He feathered her shoulder with more kisses.

Sarna turned over so that she could look into Elan's dark eyes. "What I truly feel, my Lord," she whispered, "Is that Lord Galen heard my prayers and answered them."

Elan reached up and caressed Sarna's cheek with gentle fingertips. "Aye, beautiful Huntress," he answered softly. "'Tis no less than He has done with mine."