'I was not planning on doing anything else,' Ard smiled, driving his cock into her for the last few times he could muster.
The elf captured her lips and drove himself in to the hilt, fully embraced, his cock erupted inside her, filling her to the brim. Another orgasm washed over her and her mind went blank.
In a flash, Abigail saw herself in a strange, foreign land.
Inside an elaborate mansion, with fine carpentry and lavishly decorated, she saw an elf standing in the middle of the room, two slave girls, one human and one elven, helping him put on armour, which was jet black and shaped like bones. The armour of the Wild Hunt she had seen for herself.
The scene shifted and the armour clad elf mounted a pitch-black horse, along side a number of similarly armoured riders. A miasma of magic opened before them, guided by an elf with a sceptre, and the riders rode through.
Now in her world, the riders tore through a village, the place completely cast in fog and ice, killing whoever resisted and taking whoever did not.
As the riders retreated and the leader opened another portal over a sheer cliff near the village, an unseen hunter in the treeline readied his bow and aimed at the galloping mass of black knights. The riders took to the air and rode towards the portal, as the arrow loosed and hurried towards them. The rider she saw in the mansion was hit by the arrow between his armour plates and fell towards the flowing river below. Washed down stream by the current, the elf was lucky that he hit a shallow part of the river and could crawl to shore. Bleeding and out of breath, the elf removed his grim helmet.
That elf was unmistakably the elf she knew, Ard Gynvael.
As her vision faded, only a few seconds had passed, Ard had rolled off her, but remained at her side and caressed her arm and belly, kissing her shoulder, 'That was wonderful.'