Page 61 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf
I watch him, mesmerized, unable to move or speak.
“Be mine. Please.” His hands tremble as he extends the flower to me. “Every day, I want to wake up with the sole purpose of making you happy. Every night, I want to fall asleep, knowing I’m going to be dreaming of you. This is called the Eternal White Lily. It is a symbol of an everlasting love, of forever. You are my heart, my True Mate. Would you give me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I feel my heart breaking open with love, the sensation so intense it's almost painful. All my anger dissolves, washed away by the pain and the naked honesty in his eyes.
I fall to my knees in front of him, not caring about the wet porch or the rain now soaking through my clothes.
I touch the flower with trembling fingers, then reach to touch his soaked cheek.
"You idiot," I say with tenderness. "Of course I will."
Lorian surges forward, grabbing my face between his hands and kissing me fiercely. His lips are cold from the rain but warm quickly against mine. The kiss is desperate, passionate, full of longing and relief. I clutch at his shoulders, feeling the cold, wet fabric beneath my fingers.
The Eternal Lily glows brighter between us as the storm rages on, its light pulsing like a heartbeat.
Lorian breaks the kiss, then lifts me into his arms with an ease that takes my breath away. I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me across the threshold, kicking the door closed behind us. The sound of the rain becomes muffled as we move through my dark cottage.
He carries me all the way to the living room without hesitation, then sets me down gently beside the sofa, both of us dripping water on the wooden floor. Our eyes lock in the dim light and no words are needed for what comes next. We've both made our choice.
I reach for the buttons of his soaked shirt, my fingers working to free him from the wet clothing. The fabric clings stubbornly, but I manage to peel the shirt from his shoulders, revealing his pale, perfect skin beneath. My hands trace the contours of his chest as I push the fabric away, marveling at the smooth perfection of him.
Lorian stands still, watching me with those mesmerizing glowing eyes. His breathing quickens as my fingers trail down his torso all the way to the waist of his pants.
I continue undressing him, removing his belt, then his pants, until he stands before me in nothing. His body is lean and muscular, almost otherworldly in its perfection. He’s already hard, his delicious, long, and thick cock pointing directly at me. Like a marble statue come to life.
"Your turn," he says softly.
I pull my sweater over my head, then shimmy out of my jeans, letting them fall to the floor with a wet sound. I stand before him in just my underwear, my skin prickling with goosebumps from the cold and his gaze.
"You are so beautiful," he breathes, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect."
Lorian steps forward, cupping my face in his hands. He kisses me deeply, then trails kisses down my neck, my collarbone. His touch leaves fire in its wake, warming my rain-chilled skin. As his mouth travels down my chest, his firm lips sparking fire with each kiss, he kneels before me.
His hands settle at my hips, reverent and possessive, as he gazes up at me from his kneeling position, eyes glowing with something so hungry it’s almost feral.
He leans forward and kisses my stomach, just under my navel. Heat pools between my legs, my arousal immediate and devastating.
“I can spend the rest of my life like this,” he murmurs, voice like velvet thunder. “You. Standing before me. Open. Willing. Mine.”
His fingers hook into the sides of my underwear, dragging them down slowly. I tremble as the cool air brushes my bare skin, and then his warm breath follows, ghosting over me like a promise.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he says, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh. “But you will.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. All I can do is feel.
Lorian parts me gently with his thumbs, his tongue flicking out for one long, deliberate taste.
I gasp, my knees buckling slightly, and he groans like I’ve just fed him something sacred.
“Sweet,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I’ll never get enough of this. Ofyou.”
His mouth seals over me, slow and worshipful at first, then firmer, hungrier. Each flick of his tongue is perfectly placed, every movement tuned to the trembling of my legs, the sharp gasps spilling from my lips. I grip the back of the sofa to keep from falling apart.
“You’re already shaking,” he murmurs between strokes. “Sit.”
My knees begin to buckle, and Lorian steadies me with firm hands.
“Let me take care of you,” he breathes, guiding me gently backward until I sink into the cushions of the sofa. He doesn’t break contact, not even for a second, his blue eyes shining with the True Mate heat. He kneels between my parted thighs, his mouth finding me again the moment I’m settled, hungrier now that he has full access.