EXCERPT – Dark Elves I: Taken

This entry is part 1 of 7 in the series Dark Elves excerpts

This title is in transition.

©2005 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“It’s warm,” Gala realized.

Diana took a moment to judge, idly rubbing a hand against her chest. “It’s got to be the trees,” she stated. “No breeze.”

Gala nodded, but continued to look about. Why was she flushed? Of a sudden, her tunic was either far too tight or her breasts had swelled. The saddle between her legs grew increasingly uncomfortable as she realized she felt … aroused?

“Diana,” she murmured, finally convinced that what she felt was not natural.

Diana gasped, and Gala whirled to face the same direction. Oddly, her hand didn’t fall to the hilt of her shortsword. Nor did their horses balk. Both mounts came to a calm halt beneath their riders. But both riders were distracted from that oddity by the figure that appeared before them.

“Appeared” was an apt term, as the dark figure seemed to materialize from the inky shadow of a particularly large oak which overhung the road. The tall figure was completely contained within a voluminous, hooded black robe. Two spots of glowing red were all that pierced the darkness within the hood.


Gala and Diana sat their mounts, riveted. Gala licked suddenly dry lips, aware her breathing had quickened, as the figure raised black hands to the clasp of the hood, just below where a chin should be. In one beautiful, fluid movement, the robe parted and slid to the ground.

Both women gasped.

A man stood before them. A man unlike any either had ever encountered before. Tall and muscular, he resembled the perfect specimen of a lean, human male, but the skin that was stretched taut over chiseled muscle was pure, gleaming black, like the surface of a moonlit pond. The two points of red which had glowed from within the hood proved to be the irises of his eyes, eyes that held them captive from beneath stark white lashes. Snowy white hair fell straight and gleaming over his shoulders and down his back, held back by two braids at his temples and what looked to be one behind his head. Strange white designs, like tattoos, emblazoned his chest and belly, as well as his forehead.

Vaguely, Gala wondered that she saw such detail, until she found that she was now standing just a few feet before the man. How had she gotten there? When had she dismounted, and how had she crossed the short distance to him without being aware of it? Diana stood beside her as well, she noted out of the corner of her eyes. Only the corner, because she could not tear her gaze from this man with his gleaming onyx skin and delicately pointed ears. An elf? She’d never heard of dark-skinned elves, let alone those with skin the hue of the blackest night. She stood now before him, taking the hand that he extended. All the while, her gaze was fastened to his, even when his focus was on Diana. He was so amazingly beautiful! A piece of the most mystical moonlit night made flesh.

His hand was warm as it encircled hers and drew her close. The top of her head was about on level with his shoulder, putting her mouth right in line with the black, puckered nipple to which his hand was gently guiding her lips. She parted them willingly and lapped at his flesh, her hands raised to flatten against his belly and side. His skin tasted like cool spring water and hot cinnamon spice, a heady, strange combination that saturated her tongue and slid down her throat. Her own moan vibrated in her throat as she sucked harder.

She felt lips on her forehead, a sweet caress. Then the hand on the back of her neck pressed until she realized she was meant to kneel. She did, her body sliding sensuously down his until she reached her knees and her eyes were level with his cock. Thick and proudly erect, it thrust at her. She lapped at her own lips, still tasting his nipple, and wrapped her hand around his beautiful organ. She’d never before thought the male form particularly awe-inspiring, but this creature’s entire body was a gift from the gods. She slid her hand down the shaft, finding it was, curiously, already slick to the touch, easily sliding through her grasp. Although Gala had never performed such an act with her few other lovers, she opened her mouth and guided that fleshy tool past her lips.


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