What Elves Eat Cassandra Kane
All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Cassandra Kane No part of this e-book may be reprodu...
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What Elves Eat Cassandra Kane
All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Cassandra Kane No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file copying or sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. Willful violation of this policy will result in suspension of account privileges and will lead to prosecution. WARNING: Illegal files may contain viruses.
ISBN (10) 1-59596-522-X ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-522-6 Formats Available: HTML, Adobe PDF, MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader Publisher: Changeling Press LLC PO Box 1046 Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046 www.ChangelingPress.com Editor: Vikky Bertling Cover Artist: Karen Fox
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Chapter One The Queen’s Challenge
Elorien, known throughout Faerie as the most beautiful of elves, re-strung his lute and strummed a delightful tune he’d composed that afternoon. He frowned at a discordant note and twisted a tuning peg. Listening with satisfaction as he flicked an elegant finger over a series of chords, he was distracted by the sudden hubbub outside his window. He was accustomed to the excited giggles of the silly young faeries who liked to sit beneath his window hoping for a rare glimpse of him while they listened to his music.
Every now and then he would even deign to lean nonchalantly out on his windowsill and offer them a view of the best side of his beautiful face -- his left -- to their tinkling sighs of longing. But this was different. This was the sound of sudden laughter and a most disagreeable chatter which seemed to ebb and flow as if a crowd was winding its way past his house. Holding his lute close to his side, Elorien looked out and saw a group of young elves hurrying past, chattering and giggling in barely contained excitement. “What goes there?” he called, his curiosity piqued. “Guntoras has returned from the World,” said Ansaran, a female elf who had spent a lengthy period some time back anxiously waiting outside his door. Elorien had finally put her to good use running his errands, to her gratitude and delight. “He recounts his experiences now to Queen Elucinara, and to all who gather at the Circle.” “Indeed.” Elorien watched as Ansaran hurried away with her friends. He wasn’t sure what bothered him most, the fact that Ansaran only a few months ago would not have hurried away so quickly, or the fact that Guntoras, his best friend and sometime lover, was regaling the queen and her court with stories before he’d even stopped to say so much as a hello. “Guntoras be damned,” he muttered darkly to himself, and turned again to strum at his lute. “By the Queen’s Crown!” His fingers found themselves clumsy on the strings. Thoughts of Guntoras filled his head. He placed the lute on the chair by the window, flung his cloak about his shoulders, and stormed out of his house toward the Circle. Let it not be said he would not greet his friend as was befitting. Even better, beneath the admiring gaze of all of Faerie. For it seemed that all of Faerie was indeed gathered at the Circle, that sacred ring of trees where Queen Elucinara held court. The crowd parted for Elorien in deference to his beauty, and he made his way amongst the elves and faeries who strained to hear the words of Guntoras. “…and he is the most beautiful I have ever seen,” Guntoras was saying as Elorien approached. Elorien smiled. Perhaps Guntoras had not forgotten him so easily after all.
Elucinara, sitting on a silver chair with her seven ladies-in-waiting draped about the grass at her feet, glanced at Elorien as he came into the clearing. A glint of mischief appeared in her eyes and her soft mouth twitched. “The most beautiful, say you?” she murmured, turning her bright gaze to Guntoras. Guntoras, a sturdy and handsome elf known as much for his love of embellishing a tale as his love of male companionship, bowed low before her. He was unaware of Elorien’s presence behind him. “The most beautiful man I have ever seen, my Lady,” Guntoras asserted boldly. “You would have thought him Elven-born. ’Tis a shame he is only human. But he possesses such beauty as has never been seen nor shall ever be seen again amongst humankind, or my name is not Guntoras.” Elorien felt the blood draining from his face. Elucinara looked at him. “What say you to that, Elorien?” she asked in amusement. Guntoras whirled about. Red flared up his prominent cheeks as he saw Elorien standing stiffly before him. The crowd fell silent as they watched the lovers, except for a small faery who tittered nervously. “I have nothing to say, my Lady, as I was not privy to the whole of the tale,” Elorien said through frozen lips. He refused to look at Guntoras. “It is short enough,” Elucinara said demurely. “Guntoras claims to have met the most beautiful man in the World. Is it possible, Elorien, that more beauty exists in the World than here in Faerie?” It was a loaded question. Elucinara had never forgiven him, Elorien knew, for being more beautiful than she. Manners dictated that he flatter her and declare her the most beautiful elf in Faerie, as most wise courtiers would willingly do. But he was no courtier, and he was unwilling to give her this small victory. Not when it wasn’t true. “I would not know, my Lady, never having been in the World,” he said. Elucinara’s bright eyes sparkled dangerously. “That is easily remedied. You must go forth, Elorien, and meet this human. I must have your opinion.”
“What could my opinion matter, my Lady?” Elorien said, horrified at the prospect of visiting the World. “But you are famed for your love of beauty,” she replied with an edge, “as you are for your love of music and poetry. What better judge of beauty have we in all of Faerie?” She looked about the crowd and all immediately murmured their assent. Caught in a web of his own making, Elorien turned to glare furiously at Guntoras. His friend turned away, shamefaced. Elorien hoped he realised he had committed a betrayal that could not be forgiven. And if he didn’t, the day would soon come when Elorien would let him know plainly. Haughtily, Elorien turned to Elucinara and nodded curtly. “My Lady, I will do your bidding.” “Go then,” she said. “I will have your answer in three days.” Elorien turned and stalked from the Circle. “Guntoras, you must tell him where to find this beautiful human,” Elucinara said, smiling as she watched Elorien’s retreating form. “My Lady, I did not mean --” “You did not mean what you said, my Guntoras?” she asked lightly. “This boy is not as beautiful as you claim?” Guntoras nodded miserably. “I’m afraid he is, my Lady.” “How unfortunate for Elorien,” she mused. “His answer will be most interesting.”
Chapter Two Hollywood Whoredom
Dario gingerly touched his reddened cock and winced. Damn Zinnah and her tendency to use her teeth. He didn’t mind a nip or two, but when she had the amount of alcohol she’d drunk tonight she lost all restraint. He zipped up his trousers and looked down at Zinnah’s prone body lying on the floor of the closet. She’d passed out soon after he came. Truthfully, after he’d forced himself to come as quickly as possible just to get her off him. He hadn’t felt like a fuck but Zinnah had dragged him away from his party and into the nearest closet, kneeling eagerly on the floor as she grabbed his cock with one hand and his balls with the other. She thought she was being sexy and spontaneous. He thought she was being a spoilt brat. As usual. But who the hell said no to Zinnah, the most famous pop princess in the world? No one, that’s who. Not if you wanted to avoid her trademark diva’s tantrum. Dario knew he should do the gentlemanly thing and carry her to his room. But he didn’t feel very gentlemanly tonight. Tonight he was utterly sick of being used and flung aside like a wrung dishcloth. Zinnah, he thought, could stew in her own juices. Literally. She’d wake soon enough. He stepped over her prone body and opened the closet door. Outside, the party continued to rage, more than a hundredrevellers in fancy dress crammed into his Malibu beach house. Not really his. It was rented, though the landlord kept urging him to buy it. But he was reluctant to settle here. Not in Malibu. Not yet. He was only twenty-three. Wasn’t this to be achieved when he was much older? Ashley Parker, stylist to the stars, immediately swooped on him as he closed the closet door behind him. “You’re not going now, are you, darling?” he cooed, running his black-painted nails over Dario’s chest. “Not when you look so sexy in that costume.” Dario was dressed as Legolas fromLord of the Rings , with all the trimmings, long blond wig and pointed ears included. The costume had been forced upon him by Zinnah, who’d chosen it to complement her sexy Galadriel outfit, which left very little to the imagination. “I live here, Ash,” Dario said edgily, firmly removing his hand as it angled toward his groin. Fending off Ash was one of life’s consistencies. “And where is our lovely Elf Queen?” Ash asked, his black-rimmed eyes darting
toward the closet. Ash was dressed as a vampire teddy bear, a reflection of his own personality -- seemingly sweet and cuddly but with a nasty bite. Surprisingly, Dario didn’t feel any of his usual defensiveness. Normally people wanted the dirt on his relationship with Zinnah and a chance to pass it to one of the gossip rags for a tidy sum of money. Under normal circumstances, and to safeguard her reputation, he might have steered Ash away from the closet with a mild flirtation. Ash, he’d heard on the grapevine, was making a small fortune as a “friend to the star” in various magazines and was not to be trusted. Instead, he shrugged. It was a situation of Zinnah’s own making. Let her deal with it. Before he could answer, Karlie Jones tapped Dario’s shoulder. His fifty-year-old business manager pursed her collagen lips and air-kissed him somewhere near his right ear. “Darling, I must go.” Ash snickered, earning Karlie’s contemptuous glare. The skinny stylist at least had the sense to slink away. There weren’t many who could withstand the withering scorn in Karlie Jones’s big baby blues, nor her ability to make good on threats of personal ruin if she was crossed. “You can’t leave now.” Dario heard the edge of panic in his voice. “Please don’t leave me here with them.” He jerked his head at the room. The party seemed to have descended into orgiastic chaos during his brief time in the closet. A group of male models were playing drinking games by the bar, spilling most of the beer over his expensive carpet. Two musicians, an actress and her director husband were taking turns snorting coke from a mirror they’d placed on a coffee table. Nearby, a starlet and her boyfriend were fucking on one of the couches while two movie producers looked on, talking business. “Quite an audition, but I think she’s overacting,” Karlie commented, amused. She turned to Dario and saw something in his eyes that made her own soften. “Listen, darling, you’ve been in the business long enough to know how the game’s played. How long has it been?” “Almost seven years,” Dario said tiredly, bracing himself for her usual lecture. “Seven years since you were plucked from the streets of New York where you were, I believe, eating leftovers from restaurant Dumpsters. Now you’re one of the most famous men on the planet. Just this month you’re on twenty-four magazine covers worldwide, and you were voted Sexiest Man Alive. Not to mention the two movies
you’ve already done.” She smiled. “I shouldn’t get your hopes up, but there’s talk of you being nominated for Best Supporting Actor.” “I don’t give a damn,” Dario said. A rare anger was surging through him. “On the minus side, I have no personal life, I can’t walk out the door to buy my own milk without being attacked by nutcases, and my girlfriend is a drunk and a junkie.” He paused. “Ex-girlfriend.” “She’s good for your career,” Karlie said, her voice turning cold. “Not any more.” Karlie’s heavily mascaraed eyes narrowed. “I hope this is another one of your passing phases of self-doubt, Dario, because I haven’t worked my butt off for the last seven years to have you give it all up and decide you want to go off and find yourself.” Something in him snapped. “It’s none of your business what I decide to do,” he snarled at her. Karlie’s eyes widened in shock at this unexpected rudeness. He had never, ever spoken to her like that before. Her mouth opened and closed as if she were a breathless goldfish. Dario watched her visibly swallow her anger, replacing it almost immediately with an expression of artificial cheer. “OK, OK,” she said, quickly backpedalling. “Why don’t you just sleep on it, darling?” Smiling brightly, she patted his cheek slightly harder than she needed to. “I’m sure you’ll think differently in the morning.” And with another quick air-kiss, and looking superbly unworried, Karlie sauntered out of the house. Dario was overcome by a stifling wave of despair. Not even his own business manager believed him. Just how lightweight did she think he was? More importantly, just how lightweight did he believe himself to be? Angrily, Dario turned and quickly pushed through the partying crowd, heading to the porch at the back of the house. On the porch, he pulled off his wig and fake ears and threw them into a corner with a sigh of relief. He leaned on the handrail, looking over the beach and the sparkling Pacific Ocean as he breathed in deep gasps of fresh air. A north-easterly wind had blown the smog back into Los Angeles and the night was clear, stars twinkling in the dark-blue sky.
A bright shooting star arced across the sky. Dario wished desperately that he could go somewhere cleaner, purer, where people would see him for what he truly was. Love him for what he truly was. Whatever that was. He no longer knew, and wondered if he ever had. Through the sound of the revelry inside the house, he heard the doorbell ringing insistently. He frowned, and decided that one of the catering staff could open the door to the latecomer. He’d welcomed enough guests tonight. He wanted them all gone anyway. Dario began to ponder Karlie’s statement. Seriously, would he think differently in the morning? He’d thought of jacking it in many times. Almost since the beginning, if he were honest. He had no taste for the adulation, the sycophancy, the constant bitchiness and backbiting in themodelling world. It was worse since Karlie had orchestrated his move to Hollywood. He kept at it because it beat eating out of Dumpsters. He’d been a runaway for many years before he’d been “discovered” and his education was practically non-existent. Now he could afford to get himself an education, could afford to get a proper life. But doing it in relative anonymity anywhere on this planet was impossible -- everyone knew him and everyone wanted a piece of him. “There you are!” Ash peeked his head around the French doors. “Dario, you have a visitor.” Dario groaned. “For God’s sake, just show them to the bar and leave me alone.” “Well, well, we are in a grumpy mood today,” Ash said, eyes gleaming. “A tiff with your better half, perhaps? Has the little dear gone home already?” Dario gritted his teeth and refused to rise to the bait. At Dario’s silence, Ash sniffed. “Play it that way, then. But I really think you should go to the door. This guy keeps insisting he wants to see you.” “I’m in no mood --” Ash stepped back in mock horror. “Don’t tell me, I’m only the messenger. You can
tell your brother yourself.” “I don’t have a brother,” Dario growled, “so you can tell him to go to hell.” Ash raised his hand. “I get the picture. But if this guy isn’t your brother, someone’s been keeping secrets from you.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This guy, he could be your twin.” “I’m not in the mood for your practical jokes, Ash. You know I don’t have any family.” “OK, so someone’s hired a look-alike, is that it?” Ash was unbearably thick-skinned. “I bet Zinnah thought it would be fun. You’ve got to hand it to her, she can always come up with a good idea to liven up a party.” As Dario realised what Ash meant, a wave of heat suffused his face. It could only be another of Zinnah’s stupid ideas. Goddamn her! He’d set the look-alike straight and send him packing. He was in no mood for more of Zinnah’s crap. He stalked into the house, Ash gleefully following. The dynamics of the party had changed, Dario noted. Now a crowd had formed around someone who stood in the middle of the large open-spaced living room. People standing on the outer rim of the crowd were trying to crane their necks to get a better look. “Jesus, he looks just like Dario,” someone said as he pushed past. At that, and as if they sensed the impending confrontation, the crowd parted before him. Later, Dario remembered that moment as if in slow motion. The crowd parting, the stranger coming into view, his back to Dario. The first glimpse of a gold-embroidered cape flung over wide shoulders, fine hose encasing strong, shapely thighs, and soft gold boots. The air seemed to shimmer as the stranger turned to face him. His skin seemed to shine with an extraordinary glow. Then Dario’s eyes adjusted and he looked upon the face of a man who could have been his twin. Dario stopped and held his breath. It wasn’t just that the stranger looked like him. He did, but there were differences.
There was the long straight hair, where his own was short and curly. The stranger was at least half a foot taller than Dario. The face was longer, and the eyes larger. And his ears seemed unnaturally pointed. What made Dario breathless was the tingle that rippled through him as if opening every pore of his body. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man. The crowd around him seemed dark and dirty in comparison, as though covered in a grimy film. Only the stranger seemed real. Dario had been with men before. Hell, he’d bartered sex for room and board more than once before Karlie found him. He’d even enjoyed himself with some of them. But this was different. Dario wanted, very badly, to touch him. “My name is Elorien.” The man’s mellifluous voice rang over the murmur of the crowd, who fell silent. “I’ve come for Dario.” “I’m Dario.” He took a step closer as though in a daze. “I see that.” Elorien stared at him, elegant brows furrowed, eyes darting over Dario’s face. Then the other man’s clear eyes burned into his and he found himself falling into a pool of soft musical sighs. We must talk alone, the sighing voice said inside his head.Tell these people to leave . Despite the hypnotic wash of sound, Dario felt that it was more a demand than a request. Before he could compose himself, Elorien stalked past him and went to the porch, brushing Dario’s arm as passed. Dario stared at his retreating back. He rubbed his arm, shivering at the tingling warmth spreading through his body at the man’s touch. He was painfully aware of his sudden erection which, thankfully, was hidden by the folds of his tunic. “Everyone get out,” he croaked. The crowd ignored him as the speculation and gossip began. “Who is that guy?” Ash asked at his elbow, staring after him open-mouthed. Dario shook his head, unable to answer. All he knew was that he wanted everyone out as soon as possible. He went to the light switch, flicked it and plunged the room into darkness. Someone squealed. Dario flicked it on again.
“The party’s over!” he shouted. “Everyone out! Now!”
Chapter Three Mirror Image
From his position on the porch, Elorien watched the crowd emptying from the house. Rather, he watched Dario. Since Dario spent most of his time with his back turned, ushering people firmly out the door, Elorien’s gaze lingered mainly on Dario’s butt. And a very fine butt it was. He was amazed to discover that his stomach was fluttering unexpectedly, and his heart pounding. He’d only felt it as a lad when Guntoras had first become his lover. That had disappeared over time when he’d understood Guntoras’ roving eye and suffered his constant indiscretions. Elorien had shut down a large part of his heart then, locked it and all but thrown away the key. It was extraordinary how beautiful Dario was. Elorien had carefully observed everyone at the party when they crowded about him. The faces had seemed ugly, most of them disfigured by an unnatural re-arranging of features, the women with lips too thick, the men with skins too tight. He’d almost thought them demons in disguise. He could never understand Guntoras’ fascination for this World. Then he had seen Dario. The boy had appeared like a shining beacon. It was a shock to discover he looked so much like himself. Yet the boy had no elvish blood or he would have sensed it. Strange, then, to find such physical beauty in a human. What captivated him, however, was Dario’s vulnerability. His open soul had been apparent in his eyes. Rare to find that openness even amongst elves. Like most fine things, he expected it was wasted on the humans. Elorien watched as Dario dragged a half-dressed couple down the stairs and out the door. Then he leaned back against the closed door in relief. Elorien realised they were now alone. His heart flipped quietly, once, before he took a deep breath and re-entered the house.
Dario approached him, padding quietly over the thickly carpeted floor. “Who are you?” Dario breathed, staring at him with eyes like great unfathomable pools. Elorien frowned, catching himself. Now was not the time to wax poetic over Dario’s unquestionable charms. “I am Elorien,” he said. “I’ve come to --” He stopped, frowned again. How could he say, “I’ve come to see whether you are more beautiful than I?” It sounded ridiculous and… petty. A slow flush crept over his skin. No,he had been ridiculous and petty. How could two separate beauties be compared? As a poet, as a musician, he should have known that. He had to give Queen Elucinara her due. If not as beautiful, she was at least wiser than he. “You’ve come to see me?” Dario prompted him, looking at him with a wonderful expectancy. Elorien shook his head, disoriented by Dario. Herealised if he told the boy the truth, he would seem vain and silly. No, hewas vain and silly. “Ye gods,” he muttered, as this realisation dawned. He began to pace about the room, at once berating himself for his foolishness while he wondered what excuse he could provide that would not reveal his own vanity and pride. “We’re not -- we’re not related, are we?” Dario asked as he watched him anxiously. Elorien turned to look at him. “Related?” “Yes. We look alike. You’re not my -- my brother, or anything like that?” Dario’s voice sounded worried. “I didn’t know my parents but they could have fooled around, had other children. Did you track me down, is that it?” Elorien gaped at him. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “By the gods, no! On the first hand, you’re human and I’m an elf --” He stopped, bit his lip. “You’re an elf?” Dario stared at him. Elorien sighed. Then he leaned forward and tweaked his pointed ears as evidence. Dario reached out a hand and touched them gently, caressing the pointed tip.
A sudden heat suffused Elorien. Dario’s touch seemed to go straight from his ear to his groin. He was aware of the most sudden and painful erection of his life. “Good,” Dario murmured, “Because if we were related, I couldn’t do this.” He swooped down and his lips captured Elorien’s. Elorien stiffened in shock. Dario rested his lips on Elorien’s tentatively for a moment, testing his reaction. Then, using his tongue, he began to explore the other man’s mouth. Elorien responded, slowly at first, unused to the experience. He’d kissed only one man before, Guntoras, who made it clear he was not the kissing type. Guntoras liked his lovemaking robust and athletic rather than gentle and romantic. Dario’s lips exploring his mouth with such tentative pleasure was a rare and beautiful thing. Elorien closed his eyes and gave himself up to their tender warmth. Elorien opened his eyes as Dario pulled away. Dario was breathing heavily. Elorien noticed the bulge of his erection, tenting his tunic, and felt his own throbbing in response. “Shall we -- go upstairs?” Dario asked breathlessly, jerking a thumb toward the staircase in the corner of the room. “Upstairs?” Elorien murmured, wondering how the boy’s cock would feel in his hands. “My bedroom,” Dario said. He blushed a little. “Only if you want to, that is.” Elorien smiled. He reached out and placed a hand on either side of Dario’s shoulders, his thumbs resting on the throbbing pulse at the base of his neck. “Oh, I certainly want to,” he said, and crushed Dario’s lips beneath his own. The boy gave a small whimper and then surrendered to the onslaught. Elorien’s mouth plundered his, sucking at his tongue, exploring every nook of the warm, wet cavity. He slid his hands across Dario’s shoulders and then angled down his back until they rested on his muscled butt. He pushed Dario’s hips toward his and felt the warm bump of his erection against his thigh, and then moved so that it brushed against his own erection. Dario moaned, his arms coming about Elorien’s waist, squeezing hard. His hands traveled down over the edge of Elorien’s doublet and caught Elorien’s behind, squeezing his tight buttocks. As their tongues probed and twirled around each other, they rubbed their erections together until Elorien felt as though his cock was about to burst free from the straining cloth.
“Upstairs, you say?” he gasped, pulling away for some air. Dario grinned, his face flushed. He grabbed Elorien’s hand and bounded toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. Elorien allowed himself to be pulled and found he was grinning stupidly at Dario’s -- and his own -- growing excitement. A large bed with a carved oak headboard dominated Dario’s bedroom. As Elorien paused to observe the plush surroundings in approval, Dario pulled his green tunic over his head and threw it to the floor, then kicked off the pointed boots. “A strange costume,” Elorien said, watching as Dario pulled his trousers off, exposing his smooth, thick cock nestled in a brush of thick blond hair between muscled thighs. “Yes, it’s an --” Dario stopped. He looked at Elorien’s magnificent clothing. Then he looked down at the heap of clothes he’d thrown over the chair, and laughed. “It’s a ridiculous costume,” he said. “I won’t be wearing it again.” Elorien nodded, wondering at his laugh. He unclipped his cape and looked about for a place to hang it. Guntoras hated this about him and was usually waiting for him in bed, bored, by the time Elorien had fully undressed. But try as he might, Elorien could not bring himself to throw his clothes to the floor. “Here, let me do that,” Dario said, taking the cape. He draped it over the back of a high-backed chair near the dresser, carefully arranging the folds. Elorien admired the careful way he had fixed the folds as much as the way Dario’s hipbone jutted powerfully where muscled abdomen ended and thighs began. Dario came and stood behind him. Elorien could not help blinking in surprise as Dario began to unhook his stiff doublet. “You don’t mind if I -- undress you?” Dario asked, his breath tickling at Elorien’s sensitive ear. Mutely, Elorien shook his head. The boy unhooked his doublet and drew it forward over his shoulders, removing it. He took a coat hanger and placed the doublet over the back of the wardrobe door. Elorien was fascinated by Dario’s precision as he loosened the scarf at his neck and drew it away. Then Dario untied the ribbons at the front of his silk shirt and gently pulled it over his head. Another hanger and both scarf and shirt were placed before the doublet over the wardrobe door. Elorien shivered with a delicious excitement as the bare skin of his torso was exposed to the warm air. Dario knelt down and took off Elorien’s boots and placed them before the wardrobe. Elorien admired the curve of his buttocks and the tight sac of his balls as he bent down.
The boy was so beautifully formed. So powerfully formed. When Dario returned, his hands resting on Elorien’s waist to pull down his hose, Elorien put a hand on his shoulder. “Enough,” he growled. His cock was fit to burst. He now understood Guntoras’ impatience. Elorien cupped the back of Dario’s neck and pulled him close, lowering his lips to Dario’s and plundering his mouth. Dario responded with equal passion, breathing hard as Elorien’s tongue played with his, then traveled over his jaw and throat and down his chest to swirl around a stiff nipple. Elorien pulled away roughly and pushed Dario hard against the bed. Dario leaned back against the edge of the bed and slowly looked down to see Elorien’s erection straining at the thin material of his hose. Noting the elf’s labored breathing, Dario rolled down the hose over Elorien’s slim hips until his cock sprang clear of the clinging material. Dario smiled as Elorien’s staff bounced before his face, then he whipped the hose down and Elorien kicked them away. “You’re a strange one.” Elorien ran his fingers through Dario’s silky curls as the boy took the long shaft of his cock in his hands. “Good strange?” Dario eyed him mischievously. Elorien grinned. “Good strange.” Then he moaned as Dario’s mouth closed over the bulging cap of his cock. Dario’s tongue worked magic, running up and down along the length and sucking gently at the head until Elorien was gripping his shoulders, trying to keep himself from thrusting mindlessly into the warm mouth. Dario’s fingers meanwhile explored his smooth balls, rubbing the tender point where they joined the bottom of his cock. Elorien groaned, then gasped as Dario’s hot, deft fingers caressed his thighs and moved to the bunched muscles of his buttocks. Gently, a finger slid between the crevice of his cheeks and Elorien willed himself to relax as the finger nudged deeper, fingering the dark entrance. He gasped as Dario’s finger circled its way inside, sliding deeper and deeper until it touched the spot that had him bucking wildly into Dario’s mouth, burying his hands in his hair to steady himself. For a moment he thought he might hurt the boy, but Dario’s lips gripped his cock firmly, accepting his fevered thrusts until he groaned and shot his seed into Dario’s mouth. Dario withdrew the finger as he swallowed, then smiled up at him. Elorien breathed harshly, his cock throbbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dario leaned forward to
kiss the side of his groin. His tongue moved over Elorien’s taut stomach, up over his ribs in feathery kisses, until he latched onto a nipple and began to suckle. Elorien sighed at the sensation, feeling his cock hardening again. He gently grasped Dario by the hair and pulled his face toward him, crushing his lips down on Dario’s. His mouth was warm and salted with the taste of his own cum. Elorien sucked at his tongue, his hands restlessly traveling over the firm, round muscles of Dario’s torso, gently tweaking at the nipples until they peaked hard beneath his fingers. But as they traveled lower, brushing over Dario’s stiff cock, he felt the boy’s almost imperceptible jolt. “What’s wrong?” he asked as Dario pulled back. “An accident earlier tonight,” Dario said, looking embarrassed. “I’m a little -- sore.” “You wish to stop?” Elorien asked, trying to hide his dismay as he looked down at his own painfully hard erection. “No,” Dario said, shaking his head vigorously. “We haven’t finished yet.” Dario lay on his front and looked back at him with a clear invitation. Elorien knelt on the bed between Dario’s spread-eagled legs and leaned down to gently kiss him on the back of his neck. Dario sighed as Elorien captured his mouth, thrusting his tongue in before gently running his tongue around his lips. After a while he moved back, his lips tracing over the lean strength of Dario’s back and down over his buttocks, then slipped between them. Elorien’s willing tongue flickered over his anus, then darted in and out until Dario moaned in pleasure and his entrance was fully relaxed. Only then did Elorien come to his knees and grasp Dario’s hips. He rubbed the length of his cock along the tight crevice of his cheeks and Dario inched his ass higher, then came to his knees. Reaching for the lube, Elorien rubbed a thick bead over the head of his cock and positioned it carefully against Dario’s hole. He nudged slowly inside -- inch by careful inch. Dario groaned. “I want you inside me. All of you. Please.” With a hard thrust, Elorien plunged his cock deep into Dario. The boy gasped, shuddering. Elorien moved slowly at first, savouring the warm tightness enveloping his own throbbing flesh. Soon he could bear the pleasure no more and he found himself thrusting wildly. As the pressure built up in his balls, he saw Dario’s hand go to his own cock and, with one pull, his seed spurted over the length of the bed. As Dario’s orgasm shuddered through him, Elorien’s followed immediately. He cried out Dario’s name as he came in sweet pulsating release. Then he collapsed beside Dario, breathing harshly.
When their breathing had steadied, Dario turned and wrapped his arms around Elorien’s waist. Gently, Elorien held him close and, so entwined in each other’s arms, they fell asleep.
Chapter Four What Elves Eat
Dario struggled up from sleep, hearing his voice being called over and over again. He jolted awake and sat up. Zinnah! He’d forgotten that he’d left her in the closet. He jumped to his feet, careful not to wake Elorien who was sprawled, magnificently beautiful, over his bed. He padded across the room to the landing outside and looked over the railing to the living room. Zinnah was standing below. She looked decidedly bedraggled with make-up smeared across her face and what looked like vomit across the front of her skimpy fairy queen costume. “Dario!” she shouted. She sounded just as drunk as when he’d left her. “I’m up here,” Dario hissed from the balcony. Zinnah squinted up at him. “Whassapened? Where’s the party?” “The party’s over.” “They left without me? Where’d they go?” She paused, squinting at him again. “Hey, you left me in the closet.” “Go home, Zinnah.” Dario sighed. “I’ll call you a cab.” “I don’t wanna go -- Hey, who’s that?”
Dario jumped guiltily as Elorien came to stand next to him. The elf peered down at her. “Hey, you’re both nekkid.” She hiccuped. “Why’re you both nekkid, Dario?” She swayed dangerously for a moment and Dario was sure she would collapse. Instead, she recovered her balance and squinted up at them again. “Hi, gorgeous.” She grinned at Elorien. “You doing my boyfriend now?” Elorien looked at her with distaste. He raised an eyebrow at Dario. “It was over before I met you,” Dario said quickly. “Of course,” Elorien agreed. “But does she know that?” “She does now.” “Hey, I can hear you,” Zinnah whined. Then she perked up. “Maybe the three of us can --” “No!” Elorien and Dario said in unison. Zinnah’s balance deserted her and she collapsed on her backside with a painful thud. “No need to get nasty about it,” she pouted. *** Dario called for a taxi to take Zinnah home. Once she had been escorted out to the cab, protesting drunkenly, they spent the rest of the day in bed. Dario couldn’t get enough of Elorien, coercing the elf back to bed if he expressed even the faintest interest in exploring his surroundings. Elorien willingly complied. Eventually, however, even elves had to eat. Dario’s hired help had cleaned up after the party and there were trays of leftover canapés wrapped with cling film in the fridge. Dario took out a tray and wolfed down a couple as Elorien stared at a piece of puffed pastry topped with some brown paste and half a black olive. He nibbled at the edge. Then spat it out. “By the Holy Tree,what is this ?” he choked, removing the crumbs from his mouth.
Dario took the canapé and bit into it. “Anchovy,” he said, throwing a couple more into his mouth. Elorien looked at the tray with distaste. “How can you partake of this rancid meal?” Dario sniffed at the tray. “They haven’t gone off yet.” As Elorien raised an eyebrow, Dario turned back to the fridge. “Why don’t you try this?” he said, bringing out another tray. Elorien picked up a stick of curled-up celery and looked dubiously at the assortment of dips. He poked the celery into some avocado dip and licked it. He put the celery down and shook his head. “There’s not much else,” Dario said, rummaging in a cupboard. “Unless you want a protein shake?” Elorien eyed the powder dubiously. “You eat this?” “With milk or fruit juice. Shall I make you one?” Elorien’s eyes went wide and he clapped his hands over his ears when Dario turned on the blender. He gritted his teeth at the noise. “I have a few every day, maintains my muscle mass.” Dario hadn’t noticed the elf’s reaction as he turned off the blender and proudly poured it out for him. Elorien sipped the concoction. Dario took back the glass as the elf smiled painfully, walked to the sink, and spat it out. “I could order some pizza,” Dario suggested helpfully. But Elorien was shaking his head in horror before he’d even finished explaining what pizza was. “It’s a wonder Guntoras survived here as long as he did,” Elorien muttered to himself as he paced around the kitchen. “What do elves eat?” Dario asked anxiously. “I can get anything ordered in.” He couldn’t bear the thought of them leaving the house. He wouldn’t expose Elorien to the paparazzi, who would appear like flies around a rotting corpse the minute they stepped out of the front gate.
“Fruit,” Elorien said firmly. “Very fresh fruit.” Not knowing any fruit shops, much less one that delivered, Dario called his assistant. “Aren’t you supposed to be shooting a commercial today?” she asked. “The production company’s called me at least three times this morning. Where are you?” Dario had heard the telephone ringing but had ignored it. Twenty-two messages were already blinking on his answering machine. He watched Elorien walk about his living room, stopping to stare at the huge poster hanging on the wall over the fireplace. In the poster, Dario was leaning back against the side of a pick-up wearing a cowboy hat, his bare torso slicked with sweat, thumbs hooked over the waist of his jeans and hands splayed over his thighs pointing to the definite bulge at his groin. It was the jeans ad that had first made Hollywood sit up and notice. But Dario could only see Elorien’s wide-shouldered back and his firm, high ass. His groin stirred as he imagined plunging his cock inside. He turned back to the phone. “I’m not leaving the house. Tell everyone I’m sick,” he whispered. “And order me some fruit.” “What? What kind of fruit?” “Two of everything they’ve got.” “Two pounds or two pieces?” Dario suddenly put down the receiver as he realised that Elorien was standing beside him, smiling quizzically. He didn’t want the elf mixed up in his world. Elorien was just too -- too pure for that. “A strange device,” Elorien observed, looking down at the phone. “In some aspects you humans are very ingenious.” Innocent he might be, Dario thought, but not that pure. He took his hand and led him to the couch. “Let me show you just how ingenious,” he grinned. ***
Elorien woke with the early morning sun streaming over his face. He and Dario had fallen asleep on the soft leather couch and the sun came shining in from the French windows leading to the porch. Elorien shifted and eased himself away from Dario, whose head was resting on his chest. “No pictures!” Dario muttered before rolling over on his side. Sitting on the edge of the couch, Elorien surveyed the room. It was covered in fruit. A funny little man had arrived the day before laden with at least ten carrier bags containing an amazing assortment of fruit. Elorien hadn’t recognised most of it. Dario had unpacked the fruit in the kitchen, cut it up into small pieces and fed it to him. Elorien hadn’t had the heart to tell him the fruit was long dead and tasted like cardboard. Dario had looked so happy. It was a pity to destroy the illusion. When Elorien had politely eaten his fill, Dario had playfully lobbed a strawberry at him. Elorien had gasped and stared at him, shocked at the disrespect to his person. Dario grinned. “You don’t like strawberries?” he asked innocently. “Here, have a piece of pineapple.” And he threw a pineapple ring at him. Elorien pulled off the pineapple ring, which was swinging around his pointed ear. Then he angrily lobbed it back at him. And received an overripe piece of mango right in his face. “Food fight!” Dario shouted. For the next ten minutes they’d pelted each other with the fruit, running around the living room and using the couches as barricades. They took pot shots at each other with apples, pears, bananas, oranges, lemons, mandarins, blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, pieces of mango, pineapple, and avocado. Eventually they retreated to the kitchen to de-rind more fruit as ammunition, continuing with round two. Elorien had the time of his life. Finally, he’d cornered Dario behind the coffee table and squashed a soggy handful of passion fruit pulp in his face. Dario, openmouthed and laughing, had swallowed most of it.
“Concede that I am the victor!” Elorien mock-threatened him. “OK, you win,” Dario laughed, shaking his head like a shaggy dog so that bits of fruit sprayed off him and onto Elorien. Elorien laughed heartily. It was then that he was struck with a painful sensation in his chest. His breath whooshed out of his lungs and he collapsed back onto the floor, giddy and winded. “Elorien!” Dario scrambled to his side, alarmed. Elorien’s heart was beating fast. He stared at Dario as he leaned over him. The boy was beautiful. He was kind, gentle, and fun. Elorien had never experienced anyone like that before. Never. “Let me get an ambulance,” Dario said, eyes huge. Elorien restrained him with a hand on his arm as Dario turned away. “I am well,” he said gently. He sat up. “It is just all the -- emotion.” Just like that, Elorien knew he was in love. It had been as if his heart had burst open. Dario sat back on his heels, frowning. “Are you sure?” Elorien smiled. He caught Dario around the back of the neck and pulled him close. Dario’s lips, covered in passion fruit juice, had never tasted better. He pulled Dario down on top of him, cupping his ass in his hands. Their skin, wet with fruit juice, slid slickly against each other. Elorien could feel Dario’s cock hardening against his thigh, matching his own erection. Elorien rolled Dario over, straddling his hips, his own cock bouncing up against his stomach. Dario grasped Elorien’s thick staff in his hand and stroked it with long, hard pulls. Elorien groaned, closing his eyes to savour the sensation. Dario gently brought him closer, lifting his head off the floor to guide Elorien’s cock into his mouth. Elorien moaned as Dario’s lips clamped firmly over the fleshy knob, his tongue sliding in wet circles around the engorged head. He felt his orgasm cresting and held Dario’s head in his hands as his hips bucked, pumping uncontrollably into his mouth as his seed burst forth. Gasping, he stared down at Dario as he swallowed the mouthful of cum, his lips working over the length of his shaft to draw out every drop. “You’ve unmanned me,” Elorien said as he withdrew his spent cock from Dario’s mouth.
Dario grinned, his hands clamped around Elorien’s ass. “I could try manning you again,” he said, playfully licking Elorien’s limp cock. The elf laughed. “I think it’s my turn.” He shifted his knees down the length of Dario’s body and leaned over to nibble at Dario’s neck. Dario sighed pleasurably and placed his arms under his head, settling back in relaxed submission to Elorien’s ministrations. Elorien traced his tongue over Dario’s neck and powerful chest, slipping to suck each tight nipple, gently biting. He continued downward, tonguing over the muscled six-pack and down the belly following the blond arrow of hair to his groin. Along the way he licked every ounce of fruit juice off Dario’s body till Elorien felt the hard shaft of his cock quivering against his cheek. Dario moaned as Elorien chose to ignore it, lifting it back to his belly to suck on the heavy balls beneath. Dario’s hips moved restlessly when Elorien finally drew the head of Dario’s cock into his mouth. His tongue flicking, Elorien licked the juice off Dario’s cock, lingering over the thick veins on the underside, sliding up and down along its length with his tongue. By the time his mouth finally closed around the thick shaft cock, the boy’s hips were moving mindlessly. “Shush,” Elorien said, holding his hips still. Panting, Dario lifted his head to watch as Elorien’s lips closed over his shaft again. The elf worked expertly over the slick skin, drawing more and more of the throbbing staff into his mouth ’til all of it was deep in his throat. Dario watched as Elorien began to move in firm strokes over the length of his cock, sucking the purple head and then plunging down to take all of Dario’s length into his mouth. It took only four strokes before Dario felt his balls tighten and his orgasm crash through his body, his seed shooting down the elf’s throat. Dario was breathing heavily as Elorien rose again to his knees and looked at him with a triumphant smile. “Well,” Dario said happily, “I think we’ve cleared up the question of what you like to eat.”
Chapter Five The Naked Elf
Elorien smiled to himself as he remembered the night before. They’d had sex a couple more times before falling exhausted into a deep sleep on the couch. He felt sticky but enormously elated. What he needed now was a bath. As he padded around the couch to climb the stairs to the bathroom, Elorien stopped and looked out the French windows. The sea sparkled outside, waves gently kissing the golden sand of the beach. The sky shone, the sea beckoned, and he forgot about the bathroom as he opened the porch windows and gulped in the fresh air. Not so fresh, he thought with a frown, spluttering slightly. There was something a little off about the World. Smells were not as pleasant as they could be, and certainly without the nourishment to be found in Faerie. But he’d never bathed in the sea before and it was something he had to experience before he left. His feet sank into the gritty sand as he sped lightly over it to the edge of the water. The sea was cold in the early morning, and the water whirling around his long toes ate away the sand beneath his feet. Taking a deep breath, he ran into the sea and dived into an oncoming wave. The water covered him; he was lost for a moment in an underwater world of green and silence, and then he came up for air. He flicked the wet strands of his long blond hair away from his face and scrubbed the water over his body to wash away the fruity stickiness of his skin. Even though it was so early, the sun was hot and beat relentlessly down on his fair skin. He lay on his back in the water, floating, looking up at the cloudless sky. He tried to ignore the smell of oil in the salty water and enjoy the moment. This was a memory he wanted to take back with him to Faerie. Elorien frowned. He would go back to Faerie this night. Elucinara and her Court would be waiting for his answer. What could he tell them -- that he was wrong? That he’d been a fool? He’d known as soon as he looked into Dario’s eyes that most of his life had been wasted in foolish arrogance. But did he want Elucinara to know that? That was the real dilemma. He’d never liked the queen getting one over on him. She was too sure of herself by half. Still, fair was fair, and she deserved an honest answer. And he owed it to Dario. He frowned as he thought of Dario. Leaving him would hurt like hell. He contemplated
staying on in the World with him -- the tasteless food, the noxious smells, the sense that something was slightly off, the fact that everything was unreal and bland and cardboard. Everything except Dario, the only genuine person he had ever known and the only one he had ever loved. There was no question in his mind that his relationship with Guntoras was trite and meaningless in comparison. Completely insignificant. Yet as much as he loved Dario, there was no question that Elorien could stay here. He could not survive so far from Faerie, away from his music. From what he had seen of Dario’s life, he knew Dario was someone of importance. He doubted Dario would go to Faerie with him and give it up. Elorien could never ask him to. He stood up, the sea water swishing about his waist and down over his hips, his cock, his thighs and his lean long legs as he walked toward the shore. He looked up at Dario’s house and saw him standing on the porch, waving at him. Grinning, Elorien waved back. He paced across the warming sand and was halfway to the porch when he realised that Dario wasn’t waving at all, but frantically motioning for him to come inside the house. Elorien frowned and glided over the sand and up the porch to his side. Dario looked crumpled and tired, but still gorgeous even though he had a tea towel slung across his hips. Before Dario could open his mouth, Elorien had taken him in his arms and kissed him with a deep, yearning heat. Elorien heard a series of clicks which seemed to go on forever. Dario struggled to pull away from him. “Paparazzi!” he said frantically. “Get inside the house!” Elorien had a brief glimpse of two men emerging from amongst the bushes to the side of the porch. They held strange black boxes to their faces, boxes with a long snout which jutted out, pointed at him. The clicks came from the boxes, over and over. Then Dario dragged him into the house. Dario locked the French windows and quickly let down the blinds, shutting them off from the men who were clambering onto his porch, black boxes clicking. As the last blind went down, one of the men lowered his black box, grinned, and gave them the thumbs up. Dario turned to him, full of wrath. “What were you doing out there?” “What’s wrong?” Elorien asked, tensing. “You can’t go swimming naked in fucking Malibu,” Dario shouted, starting to pace before him. “Don’t you know they’re out there waiting to get the dirt on me? They’re
going to make a small fortune on the pictures they just took. We just made their career!” “I don’t understand,” Elorien said, bewildered. “Who are those men and what is the significance of the black box?” Dario groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead. “They’re cameras, Elorien. Cameras. And those guys are paparazzi. They make their living getting pictures of famous people in compromising positions. And they just damned well hit the jackpot.” Elorien looked at him uncomprehendingly. Dario shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, picked up a magazine from behind the bar and handed it to him. “I’m taking a shower,” he said gruffly, and stomped off up the stairs. Elorien looked at the magazine in his hand and opened it up. “By the Sacred Tree,” he murmured as he flicked through it, comprehension beginning to dawn. He’d really gone and put his foot in it. He winced as he heard Dario swear and punch the wall in the bathroom. *** Dario stared at the television screen with something close to horror. He’d been watching the Entertainment Channel news all day, and it was just after lunch when a news bulletin cut across the biography of some little known director. They showed at least five pictures of Elorien emerging from the sea, naked as the day he was born, with his private parts fuzzed out for daytime television. Another six pictures of their embrace on the porch. Had his towel really slip? He didn’t remember that. But it must have or they wouldn’t have fuzzed out his bits as well. They left the butt shots in, though. Elorien was amazingly photogenic. After five minutes of watching the entertainment news anchors coming up with every clichéd innuendo inspired by the pictures and looking as if they were peeing their pants in glee, he switched off the television. He felt sick. This was worse than that doctor sticking his finger up his ass in a room full of interns when he’d had that intestinal complaint five years ago, then getting all the interns to do the same thing -- a memory that still made his balls shrink. This was much, much worse. The telephone rang. Dario sighed. A thousand bucks said it was Karlie. He lifted the handset to his ear. “What the fuck were you thinking?” Karlie screamed at him immediately. He winced and held the phone out to a safe distance. It was going to be a long day.
*** Elorien squinted through the blue frosted glass beside the front door. It looked as though half the city was planted outside Dario’s front gate. Trucks were parked across the entrance, barring the gate, and people were talking to machines on stands that looked like the clicking boxes -- cameras -- from that morning. They’d been there for hours and they didn’t seem to be leaving even though dusk was falling, turning the blue sky to purple twilight. Was that someone handing out sandwiches? By the Sacred Tree, they were going to be there all night! He turned back to the darkened room. Dario was sprawled over the couch, asleep in a white T-shirt and jeans, twitching and murmuring. Elorien strode toward him, stopping short as he caught the blinking light of the machine on the little table by the couch. It blinked 73 at him. No, it was now 74. Messages, Dario had called them bitterly before he’d turned off the ringing sound and thrown himself headfirst onto the couch. Elorien wondered whether he should wake him to say goodbye. He didn’t want to leave like a thief in the night, but the queen and her court would be waiting for him in a few short hours. It pained him to have ruined Dario’s life so completely through ignorance and carelessness. This was certainly not Faerie. This was a much harsher and more unforgiving world. Perhaps it was better just to leave, Elorien thought, staring sadly at Dario’s prone form. Say goodbye forever and hope that one day he would be forgiven. But it would be so hard to forget him. Elorien almost jumped out of his skin as the doorbell rang -- again! It had been ringing solidly for a few hours this afternoon until Dario had called security guards to help keep people off his property. Who had managed to get past them? Dario woke suddenly, sitting bolt upright, his eyes wild and staring. Then he saw Elorien and smiled. Elorien smiled back, his heart beating faster. Had he forgiven him? Dario yawned and rubbed his hand over his hair. He looked at Elorien, fully dressed in his hose and doublet, and frowned. “Where are you going? You’ll never get past them.” Elorien opened his mouth to answer and was cut short as the doorbell peeled out again. “That’s probably Karlie,” Dario said glumly. “I told her not to come but she always does what she damn well pleases.”
Dario padded across the room and opened the door. “What are you doing here?” Elorien heard him say in surprise. The door was forcefully pushed open and two people slipped inside. One was the drunken girl who’d been Dario’s girlfriend, the other was an evil-looking little man with black dyed hair who Elorien vaguely recalled from the party. “What a circus!” Zinnah said cheerfully, striding into the room. She was wearing a tiny mini skirt that showed off the crotch of her pink underwear and a low-cutsequinned top that just covered her nipples. Her hair fell down her thin back in a mass of red hair extensions. She stopped short when she saw Elorien, her thinly plucked eyebrows registering surprise. “Hello. What are you still doing here?” “What areyou -- and Ash -- doing here?” Dario countered with a frown, trying to ignore Ash who eyed him with his usual smarmy interest. “Ash just picked out my outfit. I have to look good for the cameras.” Zinnah twirled herself before him. “Whaddaya think? Am I gonna make album sales or what?” “You look like a demon’s whore.” Elorien’s tone was matter-of-fact. Ash let out a gasp of surprised laughter. Zinnah clamped her hand on her hip and stared at him, lip curled, all attitude. “So what’she still doing here? I thought you would have got rid of your fuck buddy by now.” “He’s not my fuck buddy,” Dario snarled, thoroughly pissed. “He’s my boyfriend. And he’s staying. It’s you who’s leaving.” Elorien stared at Dario in surprise. Boyfriend? He was Dario’s boyfriend? The thought made him grin. Zinnah gave a hard laugh. “I don’t think so. Not after we went to so much trouble. Man, my sales are gonna skyrocket with all this publicity. I’m gonna blow that stupid bitch Lola right off the charts.” Dario’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?” But Zinnah was eyeing Elorien with interest. “Geez, he sure looks like you. You’re kinda self-obsessed, Dario.” She giggled. “We could still go for that three-way, you know. But those pointy ears have got to come off while we’re doing it. I hate that
geeky Trekkie stuff.” As Zinnah reached out to touch his ears, Elorien’s hand shot out and grabbed her tightly around the wrist, jerking her arm away. Zinnah squealed in shock. “Ow! Lemme go! You can’t treat me like this.” She glared at Dario. “Doesn’t he know who I am? I didn’t set this all up for dick brain here to give me bruises for the cameras.” Elorien’s eyes narrowed. “What did you arrange?” Her meaning suddenly dawned on Dario. Fury washed over him and he stormed up to her. “Are you telling me you set those piranhas on me on purpose?” A red-faced Zinnah struggled to loosen herself from Elorien’s iron grip. She stopped and glared at Dario. “Man, you’re slow on the uptake. Soon as Ash told me you were holed up here with this Spock freak I got Derek and Jimmy to come round and check it out. Boy, did they get the scoop.” Her voice dripped with contempt. “You really are a loser, Dario. If you’re gonna fuck some geeky hunk, make sure you keep it under wraps next time ’stead of parading your dicks on Malibu beach.” “Be quiet, demon whore.” Elorien’s voice was full of quiet menace. Zinnah glared at him before turning slyly to Dario. “Don’t worry, sunshine. I’ll play the hard-done-by girlfriend for a bit, make a bunch of money, and then we can kiss and make up. You go into detox -- ’cause we’re blaming all this on the drugs due to stress, OK? -- you come out and kiss some major tabloid ass, say sorry to Oprah, and we’re all rich. More rich.” She giggled. “You’ve got it all planned out, haven’t you?” Dario’s lips twisted bitterly. “Seems like everyone’s got plans for me but me.” Elorien let go of Zinnah. She snatched her hand away, rubbing at her wrist. She threw Dario a scornful look. “Don’t be a tool. If you’re too dumb to play the system the system’ll play you. Fuck, what planet did you come from?” Dario looked sick with disgust. Elorien caught his gaze for a moment and motioned with his head toward the door. Dario nodded. “Get the fuck out,” Dario said wearily. “Don’t be like that -- oowww!” Elorien had caught a handful of Zinnah’s hair extensions and dragged her by them to the front door. “Get him offa me!” she screeched, holding her hands to her head to keep the hair from pulling out of her scalp.
Zinnah’s feet barely touched the ground as Elorien moved with supernatural speed. He threw open the front door and pushed her out savagely. Zinnah gave an off-balanced twirl, stumbled down the steps to the footpath and fell flat on her ass in a flower bed. Outside the front gates, camera flashes went off furiously. Elorien turned to look at Ash and continued to hold the door open. Ash giggled self-consciously before turning puce and making a fearful dash for the exit. At the last moment, Elorien stuck out his foot. Ash gave a thin cry as he tripped down the steps and fell, sprawled on top of Zinnah, knocking her flat. As her legs flailed, the cameras flashed, eager to capture the unexpected angle of Zinnah’s pink panties. Supremely satisfied, Elorien slammed the door shut after them.
Chapter Six Checkmate
Dario paced about the living room with his back to Elorien, his shoulders shaking with anger. He could happily have punched Zinnah and was glad Elorien had taken the initiative and had thrown her out -- together with that nasty creep, Ash. If he never saw them again, it would be too soon. God, he wished he could leave this place. He was trapped now, trapped in his own house, trapped by Elorien’s indiscretion. Not that he blamed Elorien. He should have understood that the elf would have no idea about the workings of Hollywood, wouldn’t have known how hungry the tabloids were for scandal. He felt guilty that he had been so self-absorbed all day, forgetting how it might have affected the elf. Elorien had been pretty damned patient with him, all things considered. “Don’t cry,” Elorien said softly, his arms coming around him from behind. Dario turned to him, burying his face in the elf’s strong shoulder. “I’m not crying,” he lied, voice muffled in Elorien’s velvet doublet. Elorien stroked his hair until he had control of himself again. Eventually Dario pulled
away, wiping his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a prick to you today. You deserved more from me.” Elorien smiled sadly. “I cannot tell how I would have reacted under similar circumstances. You have every right to be angry with me.” Dario held him firmly by the shoulders and shook his head. “No, I have no right. You shouldn’t have been exposed to all of this. I should have been more vigilant because I knew you weren’t --” “-- from your world,” Elorien finished for him, shaking his long, glossy hair. “It’s true I don’t know the rules you live by.” He paused, then continued softly, “It’s also true I have no wish to learn them.” Dario stepped back and stared at the elf. They’d been naked for most of the time since Elorien had appeared at the party two days ago, and it had only sunk in that he was fully clothed before Zinnah arrived like the demon whore Elorien had so aptly called her, distracting him from making further commentary. Now he realised that Elorien had dressed for a reason. He was leaving. “You’re going,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward. “Of course. I have no right to keep you here.” “I must return to Faerie,” Elorien said gently. “There is no place for me here.” Dario took a deep shuddering breath. “Of course not. This is no place for any sane person, if you really think about it.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I don’t blame you for wanting to leave. I’d leave here myself if I could.” Dario turned away, feeling his heart beginning to break. He’d driven off the only person he ever loved. How could he expect him to stay after today’s degrading spectacle? Elorien had put up with enough as it was. “Do you love me, Dario?” the elf asked softly. Dario shrugged his shoulders, barely listening to him, burying himself deep in his grief. One more abandonment in a long line of abandonments. Why had he taken his time with Elorien so lightly? Why hadn’t he even protected his heart from the inevitable end? He couldn’t even imagine the world without Elorien now. Elorien caught his shoulders and firmly turned him around. “Look at me.” Dario turned his grief-stricken eyes to meet Elorien’s. The elf’s face was blazing with excitement. “I need to know, Dario. Do you love me?”
“You know I do,” Dario whispered. “Say it, then.” Elorien stared at him with intensity. “Say you love me as I love you.” “You love me?” Dario’s heart skipped a beat in surprise. “Do you doubt it?” Dario looked into the elf’s eyes and saw it was true. Relief and joy flooded his being, softening the hardness in his shoulders. Elorien caught the back of his head and pulled him close, his mouth closing hungrily over Dario’s, tongue probing insistently, possessively, demanding a response. Dario opened to him, pressing his mouth to his eagerly. Their tongues plunged and swirled. Dario caught Elorien’s bottom lip with his teeth, nibbling and sucking on the fleshy firmness as his cock jumped to attention. He could feel Elorien’s responsive bulge against his thigh and stroked it through the hose. It hardened and lengthened beneath his touch. Elorien came up for air and growled, “Enough.” Dario groaned, rubbing the bulge in his jeans against Elorien’s matching bulge. “I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he muttered, frantically undoing the buttons on the front of his jeans. He pulled his cock out from his boxer shorts, exposing the engorged head so that it jutted out like a missile ready to explode. Elorien brushed away his hand, grasping the hot flesh in his own cool hand. As Elorien began pumping his cock, Dario delved into the elf’s hose and brought out his rock-hard staff, holding it firmly as he stroked the long length. Their mouths devoured each other as they caressed each other’s cocks. Dario came suddenly into Elorien’s cupped hand. He looked at the elf apologetically, but Elorien’s face was intent as he turned Dario around and pushed him over the back of the couch. Dario felt the elf pull his jeans down, spread his legs wide, and smear his own cum over his puckered hole, lubricating the entrance. Dario gasped as Elorien filled his back passage with a firm, swift push. As the elf began to move with steady strokes inside of him, Dario could feel another orgasm beginning to rise like hot molten lava at his core. Elorien bent over him, nibbling his neck and then probing his ear with a flick of his
tongue. Dario cried out, “I love you.” His breath coming short and hard, Dario turned so his lips could meet Elorien’s. He felt Elorien’s sudden release inside him and arched back, calling out Elorien’s name as he shook with the force of his own orgasm. Spent, Dario lay exhausted over the back of the couch. Elorien nibbled again at his ear. “I think I have no doubt now that you love me.” There was humour in Elorien’s voice. Dario shifted and groaned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a few days.” Elorien suddenly withdrew and slipped his cock into his hose. “There’s no choice. You’ll have to move if you want to come with me.” Dario turned around slowly, leaning his hip back again the couch, his arms grasping along the top of the couch to hold himself up. He saw Elorien’s eyes twinkling. “Go with you?” His heart began to pound hard against his ribcage. “Where are you going?” “Back to Faerie.” Elorien lifted Dario’s boxer shorts gently over his limp cock and began to button up his jeans. “I can’t go there.” Dario felt bemused. “If you’re a fish out of water here, won’t I be the same in -- Faerie?” Elorien smiled and shrugged. “Perhaps. We can only try it and see. All I know is that there is no danger of paparazzi there. No one will know -- or care -- who you are.” Dario cheered up at that. “It sounds good already.” Rising to his feet, he adjusted his cock inside his jeans. “I just don’t know why you’re in such a hurry to get back. I’m starving and we could --” Elorien held up his hand to cut him off. “No more food! Time for you to taste the delights of Faerie.” “Now?” Dario looked uncertain. “Now,” Elorien confirmed. “There is someone waiting for me. A matter of some unfinished business.” *** The Elven Court was assembled at the Circle. Elucinara sat regally in her silver chair, ladies-in-waiting standing behind her. Guntoras stood a few feet away.
The elves turned as Elorien came into the Circle, moving easily in a purposeful stride. He came before Elucinara and bowed low. “My Lady, I humbly apologize,” Elorien said as he straightened. “I was inexcusably rude to my queen and for that I am truly sorry.” Elucinara raised an eyebrow. “You are? My dear Elorien, you seem remarkably changed.” Elorien beamed, giving everyone the full benefit of his wonderful smile. The ladies-in-waiting sighed. Even Elucinara found herself stirred. It was not often they saw a smile from the most beautiful and most arrogant Elorien. “I am, my Lady,” he said. He looked at Guntoras, smiled, and gave him a small bow. “Greetings to my friend Guntoras.” Guntoras looked shocked. In all his life, he had never seen Elorien bow to anyone. “Come now,” Elucinara said silkily. “Your good humor is much appreciated, Elorien. Nevertheless, you were sent on a quest and I fully expect an answer. Your apology, rare as it is, will not serve to keep you from providing it.” Elorien nodded. “I am aware of that, my Lady.” “So,” continued Elucinara, “the question remains: Is it possible that more beauty exists in the World than here in Faerie?” Elorien turned and held out his arm toward the crowd behind him. The elves looked at each other, puzzled. Then the crowd parted and a beautiful boy walked up between the elves and faeries toward Elorien. Elucinara leaned forward. The boy looked exactly like Elorien and yet different. Human. She frowned as Elorien brought Dario before Elucinara. “This is the boy?” Elucinara asked, turning to Guntoras. He nodded, eyes unblinking as he stared at Dario. “You bring him here?” Elucinara demanded of Elorien. “You bring a human to Faerie? Why?” Elorien smiled and took Dario’s hand. “So you can judge for yourself, my Lady.”
The End
Cassandra Kane
Cassandra Kane grew up in Australia and now resides in the UK. A graduate of the University of Sydney, Cassandra divides her time between the day job and her writing. She enjoys good food, interesting conversation and exotic travel, not necessarily in that order. Find out more at www.cassandrakane.com