Wicked Love | ✓ (#featured)

³ | h i r a e t h

(n.) a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

Raneem couldn't keep herself from shaking as she watched the elf prince retreat. Carnal pleasures had touched her mind before, but she never entertained them. Her encounter with Prince Zane had not only made her entertain the thought, but it had gripped her and pulled her into its iron grip. While her mind refused to give in willingly, her body ached to be taken. Remembering it all, filled her with so much embarrassment.

She had felt so heady when she woke up noticing everything around her without even being fully awake. The roots that held her did not exactly dig into her skin, but she could feel every ridge and grain of it as much as she could feel every stitch of her clothing. Her eyes were clear enough to see every minute detail of cave - from the tiniest bug that settled on the far end of the wall to the different shades of green the moss gave off. The cave smelled of ground and wood and moss, but they assailed her senses so much so that she could distinctly count how many smells went into the odor of the ground alone.

The sudden awareness of everything around her made it difficult to focus on anything, hounding at her consciousness and fought for her attention, leaving her confused and disoriented. She was still far from recovering when he came and it was all she could do not to dissolve into the mindless sensations her senses sunk her into.

Every detail on his face and his body registered in her mind, magnifying every hair's breadth of beauty rendering it impossible to deny the physical perfection of the elves. But what really maddened her was his scent. It was easily comparable to a perfume sprayed directly in her face. She couldn't identify what it was but she knew that it was his scent and it sent her lust spiraling out of control.

Even as he left, his scent lingered and she thanked the gods that she was wearing a skirt or the wetness between her legs might have been visible. She had wished he hadn't spoken so close. His breath and his low husky voice completed a seduction she did not want affecting her.

Fighting to gain control of herself was an effort enough, but to keep herself level-headed in the negotiation was impossible. All she could think about was submitting to him and letting him do things to her that would make her father furious. She cursed his purposeful derailing that made her agree to his demands. It had made her unable to negotiate effectively. Her father would have scolded her for such a botch.

Even before her other senses were aware of Prince Zane's coming, she breathed him in, and tried as she might, she could not rein in the strangled cry that escaped her lips. Only when she was taken by the arms as the roots released her did she notice that there were two others in the room. They did not have the overpowering essence that the prince had and she wondered why.

Only briefly.

The touch of his fingers on her cheek was feather light, but it was as if her whole face felt the thrill of his touch - down to her spine and even further below. She grit her teeth and resolved to face him once more with a mask of resolve and strength.