Page 39 of A Cursed Bite (Bound to the Enduar #1)

ARLET

V ann’s hand is between my legs and my wrists are above my head. I’m not in any danger of getting hurt.

Very muc h in danger of the way my breasts tighten and my lower belly tenses.

“Mine to break. Mine to put back together,” Vann whispers. “Right?”

I nod.

“Are you ready to take me?” he asks.

I take a deep breath, a hum of pleasure sinking into my skin. “I’m ready.”

Our bodies press together. His touch is both gentle and passionate—a masterpiece of emotion, skill, and desire.

"I want this to be perfect. I don't ever want you to feel anything but pleasure and warmth," Vann whispers, his breath warming my neck as he looks deep into my eyes.

He strokes his hand through my slickness, and then brings his wet hand to his cock to stroke himself once. Lining up our bodies, he enters me with a slow, deliberate motion. I gasp as he fills me completely, creating a sensation that leaves me breathless.

"Are you okay?" he asks, careful not to move.

I nod, unable to speak .

"Hostia puta," I moan, my head rolling back against the tree trunk as he begins to move in and out of me at a slow, steady pace.

Vann's eyes never leave mine as he continues to pump into me. His voice is a low rumble as he says my name over and over again, adding to the sensual symphony of our breaths and bodies colliding.

"Arlet," he says softly, "You feel so good. So warm..."

I moan, my hands pulling on the ties in response. Every thrust is a wave of pleasure crashing through my body. My senses are focused solely on Vann's touch—his lips on mine, his hands holding me close, the way he moves inside me.

My mind quiets. Sings.

“More,” I whisper.

He thrusts inside me harder, our bodies slapping against each other with each movement. My moans grow louder, and the leaves rustle around us with each gasp of pleasure.

My world becomes Vann and our connection. As if we are one entity, an amalgamation of emotions and desires. Each thrust brings us closer to the end.

“You are perfect,” he groans.

It takes me first, but he follows. The shock is an explosion of pure bliss that we will share together.

Vann's breath comes out in small gasps, his eyes locked onto mine. I’d had lovers. I’d had pleasure but this was something different. This was being seen. I didn’t need to ask what he feels.

I could see it in his eyes. Feel it in his actions.

For some reason, more tears well up and slide down my cheeks.

"I want to keep you forever, Vann," I say, repeating his words back to him.

The look of relief on his face is almost comical. Then he grins. Drawing me into his arms, and starting to rub my thoroughly stretched limbs.

As Vann unties me, a flash of light erupts in the sky, followed by a deafening rumble that shakes the earth beneath us.

“What was that?” I say.

Another boom shakes through the air. It hisses before impact, and then, there are screams. This isn’t a celebration .

“I will burn every city that harbors you.”

“Fuck! That has to be the elves,” I pant. “I thought they wouldn’t make it through. Maelira told me that her barriers were secure. We have to do something, Vann. I don’t want anyone else to be hurt because of me.”

Vann’s eyes harden with urgency. In a matter of seconds, he morphs from lover to warrior. The purpose is different, but the magnitude is the same.

“Let’s go.”

He pulls me along, his grip like iron as he helps me get to my feet. I scramble to put on my clothes, my fingers trembling, but he is fluid. He doesn’t speak as he quickly pulls on his own gear.

Without another word, he tucks me close to him.

“First, we need to go to the hut where they kept me,” he says. “I need my cleaver.”

I nod, understanding, as we race toward the small hut where he keeps his weapon. The air crackles with tension, the rumble of distant explosions growing louder as we approach. Inside, Vann quickly retrieves his cleaver.

We don’t stop. The destruction of the shore is already visible—bright balls of magical fire soaring through the air, crashing down into the water and setting the trees ablaze. The elves’ boats skim across the darkened waters, their magic wreaking havoc on everything in their path.

In the distance, I see more ogres, their massive forms towering over the shoreline. They raise their hands, and huge rocks are lifted into the air, hurled back toward the elven boats with deadly precision. But the elves’ barrage continues.

“Vann,” I say, my voice high.

“Stay close,” he orders, grabbing my arm and pulling me back toward the ritual grounds that is still full of witches casting spells. They launch red, black, and green trails into the air. The sound of battle is deafening, the shore in chaos, and I can feel the ground shake.

Together, we take cover in an alcove surrounded by trees .

I spot Maelira chanting, her arms swirling and pulling, drawing deep inside of herself before lightning crackles in the sky.

My mouth falls open as she directs a bolt to one of the ships.

It cracks and I flinch against Vann.

I don’t know how to do this—how to be a part of any of this. The last time I was in a battle this big was with Arion.

He held me in place. Made me watch the death.

Vann shields me.

Another woman appears at my side and grabs my arm. I look up to see a tanned witch with dark brown hair. “What are you doing here? He may fight. You will not. Come.”

I start to protest, but Vann's gaze hardens as he looks at me. Chaos and light rain around us.

“She’s right,” he calls over the roar. “You have no magic! You’re not a fighter. Go!”

I pause. But then, with a reluctant nod, I agree. “I’ll be fine,” I whisper. I don’t want Arion to take him from me. I can’t bear it. “Just hurry back.”

“I will. Stay hidden.”

But as the witches start to pull me away, I turn back to Vann. For a heartbeat, everything freezes. He reaches out, pulling me close for another kiss. His hand cups my face, his thumb brushing the tear that I hadn’t noticed.

“I will come for you soon,” he whispers, his voice low, full of something raw.

I swallow hard, my heart aching.

“We need to go now!” the woman screams.

I reluctantly pull away, my eyes never leaving his. “Hurry back to me,” I say, my voice strained with emotion.

He swallows. Then holds up his half-missing pinky.

“I will,” he promises, his gaze never wavering.

And then, the witches move me forward, leading me toward the cave.