Selena DeLaPava is just out for a little fun at her best friend's grad party. But 'fun' can't quite describe how terribly wrong the night goes. One minute she's gyrating in a circle of body-painted ancient history grads, and the next she's flat on her back, buck naked, under a bright summer sun with an equally nude golden god looming over her--commanding her to pleasure herself, and she is compelled to obey.
Serosen Isil-Gan, high prince of the Night Elves, finds her--deliciously naked, and fully enchanted by his licentious cousin. Knowing that it is forbidden to bring humans to Tir na n-Og, Serosen liberates the maid, only to realize too late, that there is much more to the lusty Terran than meets the eye.
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Ellora's Cave Publishing, Incorporated
November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Night Elves - Wicked Pleasures by Nelissa Donovan
The fires burn so fiercely. It's as if their unholy souls work to wreak some last revenge before melting into the abyss.
Serosen pushed a shining strand of midnight hair behind his gracefully arched ear and signaled to his bowman.
"Let us be away, Vigil. Our work here is done."
A shadowy form wavered then disengaged from the ancient oak, solidifying into an agile, heavily muscled youth. The pattern on his skin, like Serosen's, twined with dark blue spirals and symbols from wrist to arm, disappearing beneath the charcoal tunic, to emerge at the neck and up one side of his angular face.
Vigil lowered his intricately carved bow and nodded. "Yes, brother."
Only those privy to Tuathan elf-speak could hear the silent exchange, but even among the People, the talent was becoming scarce. As Serosen breathed in the deep green scents of the P'car forest, every muscle on his lean, cat-like form filled with the sizzling energy of the woodland and its magickal denizens. At the outskirts of the Winter Kingdome, P'car brimmed with life--quite unlike the frozen heart at the center of the intimidating demesne.
Once fortified with the sustaining elements of air, earth and wind, the pair slipped through the forest at lightning speed; a variegated blur against the nighttime hues of blue, gray and verdant green.
Serosen needed little concentration to manage his pace and direction, and his thoughts wandered. So much killing. So many of our mothers and sisters lost.
Things had gone from bad to worse for the People. Summer, Spring, Autumn Kingdome--it mattered not from which tribe the Tuatha hailed, each had been subject to equally vicious raids by the Unsellie Court, led by their brutal emperor, Garethan. And since the underworld scum had fortified their ranks with the magickally created Golem legion, it was becoming more difficult for the Tuathan warriors to protect their borders, and more importantly, their women.
Nigh impossible--in some places.
As he ran, an image crashed into Serosen's mind. A long row of chained Tuathan women, naked, beautiful and shining even in their bonded state, being herded like human cattle through underground vaults of brimstone and flint. Leering Golems--filthy, disproportionate beings of earth and vileness--prodded the women along. The Golems' limb-like manhoods bulging, their black-fingered hands pinching their captives' cream-pale nipples and--
Liquid fire erupted through Serosen's veins, and it was only Vigil's warning mind-touch that prevented him from unleashing a sizzling bolt of elf-fire at the nearest tree.
"You will stop them, brother. It is only through you that we have been able to safeguard our Kingdome's borders from Garethan's raids."
"Kindly refrain from partaking of my personal thoughts, elfling," Serosen grumbled, annoyed that his emotions had made loose with his thoughts and powers, and that it took a touch from his younger brother to remind him to rein in his control.
Vigil flashed him an intense gaze the color of polished golden oak, as they surged through tree and rock. He looks so much like our mother, Goddess rest her soul, thought Serosen, as a fresh stab of loss filled his heart.
"I speak only the truth. You always know where the Golems seek to raid. There is no denying that your vision and destructive art are great."
Serosen swallowed a denunciation. Night Elves were known for their candor and brutal sense of honesty, unlike many of their Tuathan cousins who would speak any flowery lie that served their whim or plotting design.
Vigil was right. At nearly five-hundred years old, Serosen was just coming into his prime, yet his gifts had grown and expanded as if he were crossing the path into Timelessness, instead of youthful middle age. Even the Elders had consulted on his unusual abilities, yet mysteriously refrained from sharing their conclusions about his extraordinary talents with the tribe.
Not that Serosen was complaining. For a Night Ranger, the power of sight was all-important, as was the honed skill of stalking and dispatching enemy or prey, whether with a heart-seeking arrow or a mind-attack like elf-fire.
As they continued to shimmer their way around and through elm and ash, Serosen harkened back to the Dark Years. Night Rangers were known as Nightmare Destroyers then, for their consummate skill of eliminating their foes en-route. Through mind-travel, they could "see" the intentions of their enemy before they arrived, and be waiting--to destroy.
Serosen needed no army to take care of business. With a trusted bowman at his side to guard him should he need to mind-travel, Serosen could incinerate a small army without great risk to himself.
A sudden shock to the land beneath their flying feet brought Serosen and Vigil to a head-snapping halt.
Vigil gripped an ancient ash to steady himself. "What ails the land, Ser?" he said aloud, elf-speak and formalities falling away in light of the jarring concussion.
His body taut, Serosen crouched. He gripped the black soil. "Guard, Vigil."
Without another word, Vigil freed his bow and melted into the forest.
And in an instant, Serosen detached from his flesh and was away. His mind's eye zagged through earth, tree and rock, searching for the source of the disturbance. Some being had trespassed on sacred Tir na n-Og land.
He came to an immediate halt in the Summer Kingdome, where the sun shone more hours than any other demesne, home of his licentious cousin, Prince Du'an.
And there he found the impeccably tall, golden-haired, green-eyed Du'an, pushing a petite, auburn-haired beauty to the lush meadow floor. His hands made short work of her clinging shirt, revealing golden-skinned breasts straining to overflow their lacy bonds.
Nothing new about this scene. So why had his mind-travel brought him to witness his cousin coupling with a jean-clad Terran--
Serosen's vision-self shuddered with shock and fury. This is forbidden!
For over two-hundred years it had been strictly prohibited for any Tuathan to activate a portal to their sister world. Not for any reason, let alone one as simple as luring an attractive female into a lustful encounter. Since the Unsellie Court had brokered rogue mages to scan for gateway activity, it was deemed too risky to put their na?ve and powerless sister world at risk. At least the Tuatha had the means to fight and repel the Unsellie scum. Earth had no resources to protect against the magickal race and keep the Unsellie from stealing the Terran women and children to use as breeders and slaves.
A low moan brought Serosen's attention back to the couple. Du'an had the Terran completely disrobed now, and he gently laid her upon the jasmine-scented grass. Her head was tipped up, her lips parted as she gave another throaty groan. Serosen's spirit-gaze traveled down her slender neck to her fully exposed, delicious breasts. His steel-gray eyes fastened on the maiden's coin-sized, burgundy nipples, and Serosen could swear the throbbing buds stiffened under his stare.
His loins ached with an intense longing. With the threat to the Tuatha, the Night Elves' women had been sequestered in a well-guarded place, rendering the act of lovemaking something one had to plan in detail to execute. Not that someone of Serosen's position would have trouble finding a willing bedmate even in seclusion, but truth be told, there were few he hadn't found pleasure with already. And Serosen's taste of the oftentimes wicked mind games many of them played had curbed his appetite as of late.
Serosen was certain his physical manhood back in the forested glade was stiff with desire, and he could only imagine what Vigil was thinking. Probably wishing he could mind-link with his brother to get a taste of what he was missing, but Vigil wasn't advanced enough to attempt such a thing--or so Vigil's teachers had led Serosen to believe. He wasn't at all convinced that his younger brother wasn't hiding much of his gifts from the Arrowen masters. With that in mind, Serosen blocked his thoughts to all possible interference and moved in closer.
The magick-drugged Terran eased her legs apart and drew pink-tipped fingers lazily up one inner thigh to the tapered thatch of reddish curls. Serosen longed to be the one between the lustful Terran's thighs as she began to lightly tease the glistening, rosy nub with her index finger. Serosen barely held back a moan as the musky scent of the woman's liquid desire filled his senses.
"Oh, yes, sweetling. Envision my cock inside of you...thrusting, filling you," murmured Du'an.
Serosen's spirit-gaze flicked to his cousin's now naked and glowing back. If he wished it, he could easily infiltrate Du'an's mind to experience the beguiling maiden's pulsating warmth in the flesh. But no, it wouldn't truly be his flesh entering the maiden's fiery cave, or his ethereal seed spilling deep into her womb.
Serosen tried to shake himself free of the lust-induced haze that worked to control his judgment. Du'an's thoughtless act had exposed his Kingdome and the maiden's world to unspeakable danger.
Serosen knew that Du'an preferred to build desire and expectations to a fever pitch before actually coupling with his mate, and it would leave them unsuspecting targets for the Golems. Serosen could already feel the filthy wretches breeching the Summer demesne in their haste to reach the duo and the contact point for the portal.
With one last hungry look at the luscious Terran, Serosen flung his will to the wind and rode it back to his body in the P'car Forest. He slammed into his physical form and stood. Energy sizzled along his nerves and exited in sparkles of ice-blue light through the ancient markings that spiraled the left side of his lithe form.
He was instantly aware of his painfully hot erection straining against his deerskin breeches. No time to relieve his need. Being consummate master of his body, Serosen calmed the blood surging through his cock before calling for Vigil.
His bowman slipped down from the twining rowan tree above Serosen's head, his amber, almond-shaped eyes ripe with amusement.
Serosen scanned the clearing, searching for the entrance to the sacred path. "I must leave you and take the sacred path to the Summer Kingdome."
Vigil grabbed Serosen's arm, turning his brother to face him. "Ser, you know you are not allowed to use the path--"
"Enough!" Serosen shook Vigil's hand away.
His brother's ebony and chestnut streaked hair bristled with irritation, and Serosen felt a pang of regret at his harshness.
He stepped in close and placed a hand on Vigil's shoulder. "You must trust me. Travel as swiftly as possible to Whitecliff and warn the Elder Council that the Caledonian portal in the Summer Kingdome has been breeched."
With that he knelt, taking a pinch of Winter Kingdome earth and placing it in the leather pouch at his waist. He stood and breathed deeply, drawing in all the forest had to offer. He would need the borrowed energy for what lay ahead.
"Ser," Vigil started, his voice deep with concern.
Serosen leveled a somber look at his brother. "The Golems are on their way to intercept the gatekeeper. I intend to stop them, but there is only one way for me to arrive in time."
Vigil's golden eyes narrowed and his finely-chiseled nostrils flared. He inclined his head. "May your travel be as swift as the wind that guides you."
Serosen stood and the tribe-mates clasped arms, their markings lancing a brilliant blue where they touched.
"For Tir na n-Og, brother," said Vigil.
"For Tir na n-Og," Serosen responded in elf-speak.
Glowing...his skin...like morning sunshine...hot, so hot! And his fingers, long, smooth, but he isn't touching... No, it's my fingers, stroking. Oh, my God...
Selena moaned, delicious pleasure building, until she felt certain she would explode. Her senses were on fire; touch, smell, taste, sight.
What's happening? Selena's questions were thrust aside by electric, sensual sensations that occupied every inch of space.
"Such an exquisite specimen of mortal flesh," came a deep, resonate voice.
The sound vibrated through her entire being, drawing even more liquid warmth to coat her now thrusting fingers.
"Yes, my sweetling...that's it. Drive those fine, precious fingers deeper. Teasing... ah, yes."
Selena complied without question, the tips of her fingers flicking against her clit with an almost desperate rhythm.
So swollen...so close, so near! But there was something holding her back...something keeping her on the precipice, dangling, without release as the fire continued to build--and burn.
"Open your eyes, woman." His voice went from sexy to severe in an instant.
She did, her eyes taking in the full measure of him. He loomed above her; his golden-white hair swirling and flowing around well-muscled shoulders as if it had a life of its own. And his eyes, deep verdant pools; they pinned Selena to the earth at her back with an almost physical pressure. Her gaze lowered, past the flat, rippling muscles of his abdomen, to the light dusting of flaxen hair...
Selena gasped. Even through the passion-haze, the shock of seeing the stranger's massive, throbbing member above her prone body threw her into confusion.
"Where am I? What's going--"
The creature knelt and placed a warm finger on her parted lips. "Shhhh..."
His touch arced through her, making her lips and tongue tingle. Selena could feel his rigid staff pressing against her belly, and a staggering image of the golden god coming at her from behind filled her mind. She groaned, fear and confusion bleeding away, leaving nothing but an all-consuming desire.
"Yes," Selena whispered, her voice sounding strange and lilting to her ears. She spread her legs wider and thrust her hips upward. "Fill me. Let me have all of you."
He chuckled and traced a finger down her chin to her throat, leaving a burning trail. "Not yet, my brave little maiden. We have forever to play, you and I. And the playing is the best part."
Selena shook her head. "No, no...I--I..."
Her words died in her throat as his head dipped and his lips fastened on her nipple, drawing it in against teeth and tongue, suckling, pulling the entire areola into the hot recesses of his mouth. She bucked against his hard body and cried out for a release that wouldn't come. All of Selena's muscles contracted as he continued to flick and tease the swollen bud. Her fingers worked harder within her shuddering wetness, searching, begging for climax.
"Oh, God," Selena moaned, "what are you doing to me?"
His muted laughter filled her head as he moved from one aching nipple to the other.
"Loving you, sweetling...loving you as only a Tuathan Summer Prince can."
"An asinine summer prince with curdled cheese for brains," came a husky, irate male voice.
Selena cried out as the golden god's mouth left her throbbing nipples. She tried to turn her head to see who the intrusive voice belonged to, but found she could not. She could only stare at the naked, flaxen-haired creature poised above her, his grass-green eyes focused on the intruder. His lip curled as he spoke. "Cousin. Couldn't you have arranged a more seemly time to visit? Surely you can see that I am occupied."
"Which is the very reason I am here, cousin," replied the dark and sultry voice. "You know what you have done is forbidden, dangerous."
Another laugh rumbled through her delicious tormentor's chest. "Life is dangerous, Serosen, or haven't you noticed?"
Serosen. The name vibrated through Selena's psyche, sending an odd, disconcerting tingle up her spine.
Again, a small, reasoning edge teased at the corners of her mind.
Where am I?
Footsteps brought the intruder closer. A musky aroma of night blooming nicotiana and honeyed spice filled Selena's senses. Bringing with it more awareness, more questions.
What in the hell am I doing here? Where is here? And who is the naked guy on top of me?