He heard her sigh before she called his name. He fought the urge to turn and go to her. She said his name again, this time with a firm and commanding tone. His body responded before he could fight it, turning back to her against his will. His breath caught as he looked upon her unclothed body. She was seated on the couch.
“On your hands and knees Tristan.” She commanded in the same authoritative tone that made his body do her will. “Now, crawl to me and kneel.” His body responded to her commands, no matter how his muscles fought it. He found himself kneeling before her but his anger was escalating.
“What have you done to me?” he growled at her savagely. He realized that his body…no his will, was no longer his own.
“I have done nothing. It was you who gave yourself to me. By surrendering yourself you have given all to me, including your body to do with as I please.” Her eyes met his, loving the fire anger brought to him. His body was rigid and she could see his muscles twitching in revolt. He looked so alive at that moment, and she felt his emotions bursting inside of her as if they were her own.
The dark haired vixen slid off the couch and kneeled before Tristan. She leaned forward and let her lips give his a gentle caress. He was surprised when his lips responded to her touch. She deepened the kiss as he opened his mouth fully to her, reveling in her sweet taste. At that moment, he was unsure if his actions were caused by what she wanted or what he really wanted to do. Thinking of it only confused him more.
He felt her hands travel his body, her fingers brushing over his strained muscles.
Her mouth pulled away only to start laying kisses under his earlobe. Tristan tried to ignore her touch and lips as he gasped for breath. He tried to turn his mind to a matter of distraction but failed as his mind brought forth images of her eyes, lips, and body. In spite of her tricking him and his hostile attitude toward her, he couldn’t deny the desire that surged within his body. From the first moment he’d seen her, he had wanted her.
Her hot breath feathered his ear, as her voice caressed his soul. “Tristan. Touch me. Feel me. Be with me.” Her voice held no trace of the commanding tone as it had earlier. He could sense that she didn’t want to force him into this. She had given him a display of her power over him, but she wanted him willing.
Her hands were at the waist of his pants and pulled on the strings. He felt one of her hands dip inside and take hold of his hardening length. Her other hand slid up his body and gently took one of his nipples between her fingers. Tristan braced himself against her sensual touch. He tried not to show her how much she affected him, but his body was alive with tremors and longing.
Tristan’s hands finally lifted of their own accord and started their exploration of her body. He felt the heat rising from her skin. Her breath quicken as his fingers brushed over her nipples. He cursed himself and his body for wanting her so much, yet he couldn’t help himself. No matter the circumstances, he ached to be with her. These feelings were not because of her magic but because it was what he truly desired.
He pushed her back on the floor. Was that animal skin there before? The question flashed through his mind but he was soon discarded by the sight of her naked flesh stretched out before him. His primal instinct took over as his mouth traveled down her body, tasting her, devouring her. His kisses led him down to her already moist core. He took a moment and inhaled her scent. It was the same as she tasted, sweet, but it was mixed with something else. Perhaps it was the obvious magic flowing in her veins.
No longer fighting or thinking, he tentatively flicked his tongue over her clit. He felt encouraged when her body jumped in response and she let loose a low growl. He began exploring her folds with his tongue. Her moans grew louder as he began dabbing the throbbing center of her desire. Her hardened nub pulsed stronger as he sucked it into his mouth, causing her to cry out in climax. He continued gently licking her sweet juices as she came down from her orgasm.
Tristan felt her hands pull on his body. After sliding up her body she flipped him, so that he now lay on his back. He watched with hooded eyes as she slid her body down on his throbbing length. He growled out a groan and was soon lost in the sensations of her body riding him.
Tristan didn’t know how the broken moans and horse cries of pleasure torn from his body were driving his vixen wild. Didn’t know her rhythm was driven by pure lust for the mortal man that lay beneath her. It was not long before they reached orgasm, their releases so intense their cries disturbed the animals in the surrounding woods.
“This doesn’t mean I’m any happier to be here,” Tristan grumbled against her hair as they lay catching their breath.
“But it will make it more enjoyable,” she whispered, coiling her body around his.
* * * *
When Tristan woke the next morning his gorgeous vixen was gone, starting the pattern for their lives. His days were spent in the cottage or out in the garden, always alone. As the sun set she would always return to him. At first, he spent his days in anger. He hated how he had little control of his life, no matter how hard his brain tried to tell him that this life was better than the one he would have had with the Queen. He tried to keep his anger but the moment he looked into her eyes when she appeared, his anger would dissolve to be replaced by desire.
Their nights were spent finding new ways to pleasure one another. The sex was hot and passionate. Between their lusty interludes, she would ask Tristan questions about how his life had been. Tristan, once he appreciated that his life could have turned out worse, enjoyed these talks. But when he began questioning her, she gave him little information, including her name; saying that she liked it when he called her Vixen.
Time passed and as usual Tristan woke alone. Turning over to reach for her, he felt a deep ache in his chest. He wondered what she looked like first thing in the morning, wondered if she woke happy or grouchy. He wondered how it would feel to wake with her lying in his arms, her beauty greeting him every morning. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks on the chest. He was in love with his little Vixen. As each morning passed his heart stung more at not having her by his side. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted to give her children. He didn’t care if he had to live in this magical cottage until his dying days; he just wanted to be with her.
* * * *
“I love you,” he confessed later that night. A light wind passed over their naked bodies as his words were whispered into the night. “I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I want to wake to you every morning. I want you to be my wife,” he said, despite knowing she was immortal. She would never die, while he would slowly grow old and die.
Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at him. “Tristan, I would like that very much but you know that it is not possible. Our ways are different than yours.” She lightly caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “You have given yourself to me and I will care for you, but we cannot marry.” Her voice was sad.
“If two people truly love each other, why not?” His frustration was coming out in his tone. “You do love me, right?”
She smiled. She had already confessed how she’d watched over him for years and how she had fallen in love with him. When she saw what his Queen had planned for him, she had pleaded with her King to allow her to save him. “Yes, I love you with all my heart.”
“Then there must be a way for us to be together. I want to wake with you in my arms. I want you with me all the time; I want to father your children. I don’t care if I’m going to die one day. I want to spend that time happy with you.” She sighed and took his hand in hers. “So do I,” she acknowledged. Her fingers lightly drew circles on his hand as her mind raced. “There is…” she started softly but stopped.