Bound to the Fey (Book Four of The Mortal Champion): (A Supernatural, Fairy, College, Erotic Romance) (6 page)

Why did you have to be a monster?

Corrigan yanked on his hand, pulling him along after her. Gunnar didn't fight her.

The walk to his apartment took only a few more minutes. When they arrived, Corrigan dragged him upstairs, her ass writhing in her tight jeans. She pushed him up against his apartment door before he could open it, pouncing on him like a hungry lioness. Gunnar groaned, her predatory kiss sealing on his lips. He shuddered, letting Corrigan's tongue glide through his mouth.

His cock hardened as she writhed against him. Gunnar groaned, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass through her tight jeans, pulling her closer to him. He needed to take her. He needed to have her. She inflamed his blood.

Gunnar shoved his hands into his pocket, pulling out his keys. Fumbling as he kissed her, he managed to get the key into the deadbolt, twist, and pop the door open. They fell inside, stumbling and clutching each other.

Gunnar ripped off her shirt. She wore no bra. Those perfect breasts didn't need support. They were round and heavy, almost unnaturally perky.

He froze, gazing at them. He had never seen a pair of breasts that big that didn't have some sag to them unless they were full of silicon. But hers were real. He squeezed them just to make sure.

“What's wrong?” Corrigan demanded, her face suddenly angular in the light, almost inhuman, her golden eyes narrowing, becoming like cat-slits.

Gunnar blinked, and she looked normal. He shivered, a cold draft blowing in through the door.

Her face had almost seemed like the strange, alien beauty Maeve had been that night. Gunnar remembered that brief moment where she hadn't looked terrified. Her face had an inhuman beauty even twisted by heart-wrenching grief.

Corrigan was on him, her kiss banishing his thoughts. Her sharp fingernails scraped across his skin as she pulled off his shirt, her hands exploring his powerfully-muscled chest. She moaned her appreciation, her teeth nipping his nipples.

Gunnar groaned as her hands slid down and unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them down his thighs. She found his cock, giving his hard shaft a squeeze. “Slaves kneel before their Mistress,” she purred, her thumb brushing the tip.

“I'm not your slave,” Gunnar whispered as she squeezed a little harder.

“Not yet,” she purred, turning and pulling him to the bedroom by her cock, her perfect breasts bouncing and jiggling, crystals of ice beading on the tips of her nipples.

He blinked again, shaking his head.

“Stop drifting into your thoughts,” Corrigan purred, her cold fingers brushing the tip of his cock. “Or Mistress won't take care of you.”

“Sorry,” Gunnar muttered. “I think I'm just...tired.”

“Umm, you don't get off that easily.” She pushed him down on the bed. “Stretch that body out. Reach your arms up. You know the position.”

Gunnar watched her jiggling breasts as she grabbed the lace ribbon. He sighed, stretching out his arms for her. Corrigan's golden eyes were hungry on his body. She purred, her hips shaking in her tight jeans.

“You're perfect,” she purred. “A living statue. My mighty, submissive warrior.”

“Thank you...Mistress.” Gunnar shuddered as he said the word. His heart tightened. A surge of guilt washed through him. “But...maybe...”

Corrigan touched his lips. “Quiet, slave. You just lie there, and I'll make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

“Yes...” he didn't want to say the word.

She pinched his nipple, her hungry face stern. “That's not how you address me.”

Gunnar's face grew angry. “Listen, Corrigan—”

“Relax,” she laughed. “It's just a game. But please, try to mean it when you call me Mistress.” Her eyes grew pouty, her arms pressing her breasts together.

“Fine,” Gunnar groaned. “Mistress.”

The squeezing on his heart increased, a cold pain shot through him for a moment.

“Umm, that's better.” Corrigan reached out, binding his arm to the bed post. “I love it when you surrender. Bit by bit, you'll come to enjoy serving me. I can be a very
pleasurable
mistress.”

She tied the ribbon tight about his wrist and bedpost. Gunnar didn't fight her, his cock rising hard before him.
She's not really my Mistress,
Gunnar reminded himself as she leaned over, her breasts dragging across his heavy chest to tie up his other arm.

“Perfect,” she purred, standing up and shimming out of her jeans. Her scent brushed Gunnar's nose, his cock throbbing harder. Her pussy's aroma was intoxicating, trickling into his body, his tight heart beating faster.

She bent over, rooting around, waggling her perfect ass at Gunnar, her pussy peaking out between her thighs. An icy draft blew through the room. Ice tinkled. Gunnar shivered. Corrigan straightened, an icy flail in her hand, steam rising off the blue-white strands.

He blinked, and it was just a plain, leather whip, straight out of some bondage porno. “Why do you have that?”

Corrigan arched her eyebrow at him, smacking the flail into her palm. The leather cracked loud. “Bad slaves are disciplined,” she purred. “You keep forgetting to address me properly. Maybe this will help.”

The flail hissed. The leather cracked across his chest. Cold, numbing pain flared, prickling through his body. Gunnar groaned, his arms jerking at the lace. The pain reached his cock, and Gunnar throbbed, his back arching.

“Sorry, Mistress,” he groaned.

“Better,” she whispered. “You're getting close to meaning it.”

The flail cracked again, striping across his stomach. Gunnar bucked, his cock flying.
Why does it hurt and feel so good?
The mixture of sensations assaulted his brain. Corrigan grabbed his cock, stroking him as she cracked down a third time.

“Fuck!” he gasped as her thumb brushed the tip of his cock, the pleasure and pain swirling together inside him.

“Umm, you like it,” Corrigan smiled, straddling his waist. She grasped his hard cock, rubbing it against her wet pussy. “You are so sexy lying there, submitting to me.”

She sank down on his cock. Gunnar groaned as the hot pleasure engulfed him.

The whip cracked down.

“Yes!” Corrigan hissed, her back arching as she ground her hips, stirring Gunnar's cock through her pussy. “So strong. So helpless. My warrior.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Gunnar gasped, the pleasure and pain assaulting his mind.

The windows rattled. Heavy rain pelted the window.

Corrigan's pussy tightened on his cock, her flail falling faster. The violence of the arriving storm seemed to feed Corrigan, exciting her. The flail whipped harder. Gunnar groaned, red welts appearing on his skin, his cock gripped in bliss.

“Do you love my touch, slave?” Corrigan hissed.

“Yes, Mistress!” Gunnar gasped, not caring what he said. His balls tightened. His cock ached so bad. He was desperate to cum. He needed to cum.

Lightning flashed, the room bursting with blue-white light. The angles of Corrigan's face became inhuman for that one instance. As beautiful as an icy lake covered in drifts of blowing snow. Cold, pristine, perfect.

The flail cracked down on Gunnar's chest, the numbing pain spreading, meeting his cock.

“Surrender fully to me,” Corrigan moaned. “Be my slave!”

The pleasure swelled in his cock. Gunnar wanted to surrender. He wanted all she promised. His heart tightened as the flail kissed his chest again. He growled, bucking up into her tight pussy. The ache grew at the tip of his cock, his body trembling as his release neared.

Gunnar opened his mouth. The lighting flashed again, painting her in alien beauty. Gunnar hesitated.
You're not really my Mistress. You're not the one my heart should belong to.
He held back from fully surrendering. He fought against the urge to say Mistress with all the devotion he could muster.

The flail cracked again.

His cock was on the verge of exploding.

~   ~   ~

The wind roared as Maeve waited to dash naked across Union Avenue. She summoned a momentary glamour, clothing her body in a simple dress and dashed across the road. Headlights shone on her, illuminating her in the growing darkness.

The wind picked up. Another storm approached.

The air was charged with energy. The tang of ice polluted the wind.

Maeve froze. It came from her apartment.

She bit her lip, looking to the left. The Lean Sidhe was at her apartment. An anger built in Maeve. The apartment was the home she and Gunnar shared.
She's polluting it.
 

Maeve sprinted through the night. Lightning flashed, the storm's fury breaking over Tacoma. Cold rain pelted her body. She ignored the touch of Winter, her bare feet splashing through muddy puddles. She reached the apartment.

Icy winds swirled about it. Her rose bushes wilted, frost attacking red petals.

Maeve looked up at the bedroom window. She clenched her jaw, summoned her gossamer wings, and lifted from the ground. She didn't care if any Mortal saw her. The strong winds ripped at her delicate wings as they hummed behind her.

The sight sickened Maeve. All her newfound resolve almost fled her.

Gunnar was bound on their bed, the filthy Lean Sidhe straddling him, whipping him with an icy flail. Pleasure and pain mixed on Gunnar's face as he moaned, enjoying the treatment. His strong arms bulged, pulling at his restraints.

His aura was a snarled mess. Icy chains encircled it, trying to crush the broken remains of Gunnar's love for her. The Pixie gasped, her eyes widening.
He still loves me.
It was so badly damaged, fractured by betrayal and fear.  

“Surrender to me, Gunnar,” Corrigan purred. “Be my slave for real, and I will give you such pleasures.”

“No,” groaned Gunnar.

He fights,
Maeve smiled, tears streaming down her eyes.
He hasn't been fully claimed by her.

But Corrigan had him bound tight, and not just with the lace. It would be so difficult to break him free. Gunnar had partially surrendered to the Lean Sidhe. He had submitted, if not fully, to her. That meant the Lean Sidhe had a claim to him.

But so do I...

“Surrender to me!” Corrigan howled. “I am your Mistress!”

“Fight, Gunnar,” Maeve whispered. “Keep fighting. I'll free you from her.”

An idea tickled the back of Maeve's mind.
The Pact of Autumn...
 

Her eyes widened, a smile crossed her lips. “You just need to hold out, Gunnar,” she promised him.

The flail cracked, striping more red welts across Gunnar. Maeve's warrior growled in pain, jerking harder at the bonds. Corrigan rode him faster, her breasts bouncing. Gunnar groaned, his hips arching.

Suddenly, Corrigan lifted off his cock. “If you want to cum, call me, Mistress,” she purred, grasping his balls. She squeezed.

Maeve flinched as Gunnar howled in pain.

“I'll give you such delights. Just submit to me. Surrender to me. Worship me. Be my devoted slave.”

The icy chains about Gunnar tightened. “You're not my...Mistress,” he spat out.

Maeve smiled as Gunnar ripped at the lacy bonds, tearing his arms free.

“Keep fighting, Gunnar,” she told him, her wings fluttering faster, and then Maeve flew off to the Sorority to begin her plans. It was time to take the fight to Corrigan.

~   ~   ~

Corrigan gasped in surprised when Gunnar ripped the lace binding his hands to the bed. Before she could react, his hands seized her. “I'm not your slave,” he growled.

Corrigan let out a frustrated moan as he flipped her over, pinning her to the bed. His face was twisted with lust, with power. Corrigan gasped as a hot flush rippled through her body. He was so strong. She let him pry her legs apart, her pussy aching to be filled again.

“You're not my slave, yet,” she gasped as Gunnar drove his cock into her pussy. “But you will be. You loved it!”

Gunnar groaned, hammering her pussy with a desperate need. She gasped, savoring the bliss of his powerful strokes. He filled her depths, his groin smashing into her clit. Corrigan shuddered, her pleasure swelling.

“You will be mine,” she promised. “My loving, devoted slave.”

Gunnar growled, pounding his shaft harder into her. The bed rocked with the violence of his thrusts. Corrigan writhed, bucking her hips to meet his. Her arms wrapped around his body, her fingernails clawing into his back as the passion swelled inside her.

“You will be my loyal warrior-slave,” she purred in his ear. “You want to be mine. Stop fighting and surrender.”

“No!” he grunted.

“Yes!” she moaned, her orgasm spasming through her body. Corrigan shuddered and gasped, bucking beneath him. Her pussy writhed about his cock as the delight filled her. “You will be mine!”

Gunnar buried into her, his cock flooding her with her passion.
She held him as his passion filled her. Corrigan's toes curled as her orgasm reached its peak. She held her strong warrior, her mighty stallion. 

It will be so satisfying to break you.

Gunnar collapsed on her.

“What a fun game,” she purred, playing her part. “Umm, I do love you, Gunnar. Thank you for playing.”

Gunnar blinked, rolling off of her. “Right, it was just a game.”

“But you really got into it.” Corrigan snuggled up next to him. She hated acting sweet and loving. “I can't wait until the next time we play.”

“Yeah,” Gunnar admitted.

The storm howled louder outside. Her chains bound him tighter, crushing his love for the Pixie.

Chapter Five: Friends

The living room wall of the sorority house, to the left of the front door, was covered by sheets of plastic. Maeve landed on the wet grass, reverting to her human form. Water streamed down her body as the storm howled louder. Branches crashed to the ground, blown off the towering pine trees that lined the street. The Kappa Alpha Xi sign creaked as the wind tried to blow it off the dark-gray siding.

Maeve walked to the door, trembling in fear.
Do my sorority sisters hate me for Magda's death?
 

She walked to the door, hesitating.

Do they blame me for the tragedy?
Tears beaded in her eyes. Magda had been such a lively woman, full of passion. It had all been snuffed out by the disgusting Bodath. Maeve shook as she realized she would never experience her friend's passionate love.
 

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