In Which Ellona Finds the Use

October 5, 1170

"Well, I'll be damned!" The violet of his wide eyes obvious even in the dim candlelight, Prince Ietrin shut the door behind him and stared. "Is my birthday coming early this year?"

Of all the dumb things he could have said. Oh well; knowing him, Ellona doubted she could have expected anything more original.

Awkward, she tried to smile in spite of her thousand conflicting thoughts--was she sitting properly, was her nightgown loose enough, was she mad for even doing this in the first place, the whole deal. But it seemed to Ellona that the whole thing could be worth it if--and only if--she could manage to take her mother's suggestion and use it against her. How was that for irony?

"I'm sorry to intrude," she purred, finding it difficult to mimic the tone her mother reserved for men like Sir Searle without mocking it, "but it's just so cold down in my room, and I thought I might find it a little warmer up here."

Ietrin smirked. "Of course you'd be cold, in a thin, transparent little nightgown like that."

"Oh, this old thing?" She took hold of the gossamer skirt with a pinching motion and pulled it upwards, the hem along with it. "For all I know, I might be just as warm without it."

"A theory worthy of testing if I ever heard one!" He winked at her, then kicked off his boots and began to pull off his clothes, shoving them carelessly into their drawers as if they were disposable kitchen rags. "Mind moving over? You're on my side of the bed."

Oh really? As far as Ellona was concerned, she was on her side of the bed; nevertheless, she supposed she would have to indulge him the first couple of times, so she rolled onto her back and settled herself on the other half of the mattress. "Better?"

"Much." He kicked the drawer shut and joined her on the bed. She took a moment to glance over his torso; if she got no further enjoyment out of the night's activities, at least she could say she'd been pleasantly surprised to find that he was not as scrawny as she'd suspected. Indeed, he even seemed to have some degree of muscle, and he wasn't yet sixteen--he would fill out. "Like what you see, darling?"

She decided to be coy. "That depends. How would you say you are compared to other princes your age?"

That hadn't sounded coy at all--or had it? She didn't know.

In any case, it didn't seem to matter to Ietrin. "If I were in any position to know, I would tell you--but as that is not the case, it seems that I am the only example either of us have. Would you say I'm a good one?"

Aiming for sultriness, Ellona smiled. "I may need a little convincing." Was that sultry? Dear Lord, how did her whore of a mother do it? Was it some instinct that she herself had not inherited?

But Ietrin only took her in his arms and pressed her to the mattress. "Then let me convince you."

Ellona had been under the impression that Ietrin's tongue was a curse upon mankind. The words that rolled off of it were almost always useless, and even annoying more often than not; never had she heard him keep anyone's interest long enough for a proper conversation, or even chatter on for much more than a minute without saying something exceedingly pompous. Every time he'd opened his mouth, she'd wanted to tear out his tongue and slap him across the face with it.

But she knew now that it had a use after all. Ellona had been kissed before, but never with such confidence, never with such refinement; she'd always figured he was lying when he boasted about his conquests, but with a kiss like that, his tales must have been at least somewhat true. His tongue encircled her own with the graceful agility of a prancing stag, ran along along the ridge of her mouth with the most delicate finesse. It was as if he had been born to such tasks.

A small moan escaped her as he left her mouth and progressed downward to her neck, the smooth glide of his tongue like velvet across her flesh. He unlaced the top of her nightgown and left a trail of soft kisses upon each of her breasts, then took them in his hands and squeezed as he propelled himself back towards her face; as if by some undiscovered reflex, she snapped her legs around his waist and nudged his loincloth down his legs until it had reached his knees. He kicked it to the side and buried himself in his face once more, a stiff protrusion making itself known against her thigh.

He returned to an upright position, pulling her along with him. Running his hand along her side, he released her from his kiss, leaving her breathless and intoxicated. "Ellona?"

She ran her fingers through his curls, eager to distract herself from the unfamiliar ooze creeping from between her legs. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you want this?" He looked her in the eye and waited. Did he mean to give her a choice?

In that case, she would take it. She pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor.

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