“You are in shock, I think,” he says. “I am sorry for dropping you; I wasn’t prepared for you to try to get away from me.”
I swallow. “You weren’t prepared…you…I….” The trembling turns to a full-on earthquake from within.
“Poor Clara,” he croons, but kindly. Not mocking at all.
Once again, we are perched on the floor, and I am wrapped up in a fur blanket and held against his glowing, warm skin.
“Of course, you’re shocked. Here is what happened. You and a male of your species wandered into my woods and started chopping down trees. I came out of my home to investigate the intrusion, and scared the puny male specimen away. And to my delight, you remained behind. My Clara. But of course, you must be wondering how I knew your name. That will come later. For now, suffice it to say that we, the elves, know each and every one of you quite intimately. I’ve been in charge of you for many years.”
So not only am I being held against my will by some sort of supernatural creature, but he thinks he’s the boss of me? That’s adorable.
“You are out of your tree, m-mister.”
“You may call me Eldrin, my queen. My formal name is Eldrin Brynfire the fourteenth, but you may call me El, if you prefer. A queen of a Christmas elf may call her king anything she likes. And I am not out of my tree. We are, more or less, inside of a tree, for lack of a better human explanation.”
Okay, this guy is either a next-level cosplayer that Reba hired to play a joke on me. Or…
When I manage to tear my gaze away from his eyes, I take in the bone structure so perfect I want to weep.
I have a strange urge to reach up and trace my fingers over his full, unsmiling lips, high cheekbones, sharp jawline.
Looking down at his body, one thing that makes me smirk is his feet. They are huge, like a human male’s feet, but hairless. Gazing at him induces a sense of calm that I don’t quite understand.
Smiling, I comment, “You say you’re a Christmas elf, but you aren’t wearing any striped leggings. Where are the cute little curvy shoes with bells on the toes? And where’s your pointy hat?”
Eldrin’s eyes go cloudy like a storm in the distance. “Human Christmas movies have characterized us as wee little worker bees dressed in red and green. That is not the case. Humans have mixed up gnomes and elves for centuries. It’s embarrassing for you.”
He’s so sure of himself that it should piss me off. He would piss me off if I weren’t so unspeakably aroused. And so, I laugh.
My damn obsession with fantasy books and movies has conjured this person, somehow. My mom and dad always said my interests were concerning. And now I know they were right—my body is ready to dry hump the first magical creature who steps out of the trees. I’ve never felt such an automatic physical attraction to anyone. Not anyone human, anyway. Legolas was my first crush, human, fantasy and celebrity crush all at the same time.
I’m a mess, and now I’m caught up in some kind of mental breakdown of my own doing.
“You seem out of sorts, still. Is this still a precursor to the bonding ritual, or have we veered off course?”
“Excuse me? Did you say ‘bonding ritual’?”
He nods and says matter-of-factly, “The one involving the genitals.”
“Oh hell no, Christmas elf.”
I squirm in Eldrin’s lap to try to move, and the friction of my ass against the Yule log in his kilt alerts me to some actual facts. This man, or whatever, is as rigid as a tree trunk. And huge.
“I’m sorry you’re hesitant. It must be obvious that I’m not experienced with sexual bonding. But I assure you, I’ve studied all the proper instruction manuals, and I think you’ll find me adequate.”
My brain screams, Run, you fool!
My other bits already know just how adequate he is.
Physically, this Eldrin person embodies every sexual fantasy I’ve ever had. And yet, my body fights with my brain, which remains in fight-or-flight mode. I continue to struggle in his arms, scanning the room for any sign of a doorway to the outside. And yet, I don’t hate how much more aroused he seems the more I wiggle and squirm.
What is wrong with me? Did I get hit in the head with a tree branch? Did a Christmas tree fall on me?
“I think I see the problem. I must feed you now. Please sit at the table.”
With that, Eldrin stands and sets me down gently on a strange chair made of woody vines that appears to have grown straight up out of the earthen floor. Eldrin’s home looks like a circle of trees joined together by walls made of polished precious stones. The ceiling is a mass of tree limbs, dried flowers, herbs, and kitchen tools hanging from them. Along one wall are jars of things that appear to be tinctures, syrups, and infusions of leaves, berries, and fungi.
Before me, Eldrin sets a plate made of wood filled with cheeses, meats, breads, and spreads. “What the hell is this? A charcuterie?”
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