Page 10 of Tattooed By The Elf

“You can understand me?” I asked, looking down at her.

“I don’t know how, though.” She looked up at me, but this time she didn’t question my words to her. “So it’s true? We’re mates?”

“I couldn’t rut with anyone other than my mate, wildflower. It’s the way my biology is wired.”

I tried to stand and realized that we were stuck together.

“My knot.” I motioned between us.

“I can still feel you coming inside me.” Brooke smiled up at me.

“Now will you let me see if I can find the mark?” I asked her.

Brooke nodded and I tried my best to look over her body.

“Why aren’t you marked?” I mumbled as I continued looking. I started checking weird places like her underarms and behind her knee.

“Ouch!” Brooke said when I lifted her leg and tried to push it back so I can see. “I’m not that flexible where my legs go behind my head.”

“Sorry.” I sighed. I was confused, because where in the hell was it?

We waited patiently for my knot to go down. When it did, I stood and picked Brooke up. She was covered with her sweat, mine, her slick, and my cum.

“You don’t have to do all this.” Brooke said.

“I want to.” I did, but also genetics kept telling me to take care of her too. What other way is there to be a good mate?

I ran water in the tub, making sure it wasn’t too hot or too cold.

“I feel like I’ve taken seven million baths tonight.” She chuckled.

“Not quite that many.” I smiled, looking down at her. “Now, let me wash you.”

I lathered up the wash cloth and set to washing her body. I even massaged her feet after cleaning them.

“How tall are you?” Brooke asked me.

“7’11”.” I said easily.

“If I were to judge your height, the way your ears are pointed and curl on the end, the moonflowers on your dick, and the flawless skin that you have underneath your tattoos, I’d say that you’re an Elf.”

“You’d be correct.”

“An Elf that tattoos.” She snorted. “That’s new. You also said you’re a king?”

“Partially. My father is the king, but he can’t step down until his son is mated.”

“So if we mate–”

“When. When we mate.” I corrected, trying not to show my offense. “Mark or not, you’re my mate, Brooke. I’ve helped Ω11 rescue dozens of Omegas and I’ve never been affected by any of them. Don’t you think this is telling enough?” I asked.

“You have a point. It’s not a coincidence that I’ve never been attracted to any other male, but…”

“But… go on, wildflower. Tell me what you see.” I prompted her.

“Your blonde hair is perfectly golden, even the wisps that have broken free from your ponytail. I’ve never thought men with longer hair were sexy. But on you…”

I raised my eyebrow.