Bound (A Faery Story 1)
“I like it when you kiss me,” she suggested.
That he could do, Beck decided with a satisfied sigh. He pulled
Meg close and nudged her face up to his. “Give me your lips, a
chumann.”
She obediently tilted her head up. He would have Cian teach her
Gaelic. Though almost everyone now spoke the vampires’ language,
Beck enjoyed the old ways. He wanted to tell her he loved her in his
own tongue. He wanted her to know she was his darling.
She was sweet in his arms. She clung to him and allowed him to
take control of the kiss. It should have made it easier for Beck, but
every time he felt her soften, his need rose like a wildfire. He meant
for the kiss to be gentle, a promise of the way their lovemaking would
go this evening. She was so soft under him that his dominant instincts
shoved their way past his defenses.
She is mine.
Bound
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He had fought for her, offered his blood to possess her. His hands
tightened on her arms. He deepened the kiss, his tongue forcefully
showing her what he wanted to do with his cock. He thrust into her
mouth, sliding his tongue against and over hers. She didn’t fight him.
She surrendered and wound her arms around his body. She told him
with little sighs and moans that she was his and happy to be so.
He would protect her, defend her, make sure she was happy. What
was so wrong with what he needed? Beck’s hands wound in her hair
to hold her in place. He liked holding her down. He wanted to tie her
down so she was utterly helpless and at his mercy. He would show
her none. He would make her come under his body until she begged,
and then he would make her come some more. She would be utterly
his when he was done with her. She would never know that she held