“Not yet, Ella,” I grind out through gritted teeth.
I’m fucking her hard now, my abdomen tight and burning from the strain. Her breasts bounce in time with the pounding contact. When I know my orgasm is about to explode, I grab her hips, tip them forward, and grind her clit into my taut muscles.
“Now, Ella, now!”
She tightens hard around me, squeezing and pulling me deeper. Her head is back, eyes closed, mouth open in a silent scream. I grab the back of her head and pull her face to mine.
“Open yer eyes.” My voice is ragged and crazed.
They stay closed a few seconds longer, hard breaths escaping with each thrust. When her wet lashes finally lift, I find the ringed onyx of desire has been replaced with a blue so bright, so unusual, it glows in contrast to her and everything around us. My confusion is replaced with a sudden blast of renewed arousal as my bollocks tighten and I swell inside her.
“Alasdair!” she cries out, sitting up straight with her back arched, riding me harder as her hips roll on me in a perfect, steady rhythm.
“Look at me, Ella!” I want to see her eyes again—blue, luminous, like that of a mythical being.
Her hands land hard on my chest as she braces herself to receive the revived momentum. Her damp hair is draped around her shoulders, a few tangles hanging long, tickling my skin as they sway. When her eyes open again, I am pleased to see it wasn’t all an illusion. They are still bright, like when the clear sunlit water surrounding a tropical island meets the purple-gray of a wicked storm, an impossible crystalline aquamarine.
She calls my name again as the contractions begin, triggering an orgasm so powerful, I can barely move. The jerking, fractured thrusts are purely involuntary as my body is taken over by a pleasure so intense my vision fades as I try to stay focused on her stare. Then her eyes close, and she falls to my chest as my arms lock around her in a protective vice.
“Ella, are ye alright?” I constantly feel the need to make sure it isn’t too much for her.
“Yes. I just need to rest.”
Her body relaxes as our breathing ebbs from panting exertion to a meditative calm.
She’s asleep, twitching every so often as she falls deeper into her slumber. We should have joined the travel party by now, but I want to let her rest. I wasn’t anticipating the intensity of what just happened; it wasn’t even supposed to happen at all. But I’m weak when it comes to fulfilling her desires, and after this session, I’m more than fascinated. Whatever that was, it created a noticeable shift not only in her, but in me as well. I have never had an erection swell like that so soon after climax, and I have never had an orgasm release so forcefully it bordered on painful.
There must be a connection to Nanna’s premonition, and I am now anxious to get home to my library, where I can do some research. I’ve been collecting books on the mythical beings of lore since I was a boy, some of which are very old. My gut tells me I will find clues to satisfy my curiosity in the pages of the timeworn text of centuries past.
Less than ten minutes pass before I wake my faerie maiden. It’s too cold and wet to stay here unclothed for so long.
As Ella stands before me, she appears weak and tired on her feet.
“Give me yer hands.” And she does. They are cold, but their grip is strong. “Ye need to wake up if ye want to ride Willow and not go back in the carriage.” I laugh as her eyes widen, and she shakes her head in protest. “Turn this way. Hold tight. I’m going to let ye drift back into the waterfall. I will’na let ye go.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, but when she looks at the water, there is excitement in her eyes, though her trepidation overrides her voice.
“Aye. I’m sure.”
She lets me turn her back to the fall as we both tighten our grip. Her smile lights up her face right before she leans back into the clear wet curtain of water. My God. She is glorious! I pull her back so she can take a breath. Her face beaming bright again.
“Oh Alasdair! That was wonderful! I had no idea it would feel like that!”
“Yes, well, I had no idea ye’d look like that.”
“What do you mean?” she asks with a creased brow.
“I mean that was one of the most beautifully erotic things I’ve ever seen in my life. The way the water flowed over yer lovely face and down onto those magnificent breasts…bloody hell, Ella! Ye keep casting spells on me at every turn.”
She laughs at the jest, though it was stated with little humor.
“I want to do it again!”
“Of course, ye do,” I say under my breath.
She goes under three more times before I stop her to rinse myself clean and get us heading back toward the road. Her love of nature and newfound hunger for sex has completely altered my schedule.
A few minutes into our trek through the forest, she says, “I still can’t believe you had a clean gown and my riding breeches in that bag—not to mention linens and lavender soap. That was a completely planned event, wasn’t it? You had it all set up before we even left London, didn’t you?”