by Reed James
Bound to the Fey
Book Four of the Mortal Champion
by
Reed James
Copyright © 2015 by Reed James
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published in the United States of America, 2015
All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).
Cover Photo © annaomelchenko | Depositphotos.com
Cover Layout by silverheart
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Table of Contents
The Fires of Passion
The Mortal Champion
My Fallen Angel
Other Supernatural Erotica
Chapter One: Rose of Despair
Chapter Two: Lacy Chains
Chapter Three: Choice
Chapter Four: Voyeur's Pain
Chapter Five: Friends
Chapter Six: Awkward Reunion
Chapter Seven: Doubt
Chapter Eight: The Test
Chapter Nine: Moonbeams
Chapter Ten: Corrigan's Victory
Chapter Eleven: Rose and Ice
Chapter Twelve: Tangled Web
Sneak Preview of “The Pixie's Passion”
Other Works by Reed James
About the Author
The Mortal Champion
The Pixie's Passion (Book One of the Mortal Champion)
Winter's Kiss (Book Two of The Mortal Champion)
The Fires of Passion (Book Three of the Mortal Champion)
Bound to the Fey (Book Four of the Mortal Champion)
Fairy Pact (Book Five of the Mortal Champion)*
Book Six of the Mortal Champion*
Book Seven of the Mortal Champion*
Book Eight of the Mortal Champion*
*forthcoming
My Fallen Angel
My Fallen Angel 1: The Girls of My Dreams
My Fallen Angel 2: White-Feathered Angel
My Fallen Angel 3: Wings of Gray
My Fallen Angel 4: My Familiar Succuba
My Fallen Angel 5: Light's Redemption
Other Supernatural Erotica
The Battered Lamp 1: Genie of Desire
The Battered Lamp 2: Servant of Desire
The Battered Lamp 3: Witch of Desire
The Battered Lamp 4: Harem of Passion
The Battered Lamp 5: Succubus of Lust
The Battered Lamp 6: Concubines of Passion
The Battered Lamp 7: Covens of Lust
The Battered Lamp 8: Genie of Lust
The Battered Lamp 9: Wives of Passion
The Battered Lamp 10: Submissive Witch
The Battered Lamp 11: Succubus Desires
The Battered Lamp 12: The Genie's Concubine
The Battered Lamp 13: Concubines Passion
The Battered Lamp 14: Passionate Visitors
The Battered Lamp 15: The Concubines' Games
The Battered Lamp 16: The Cougar's Passion
The Battered Lamp 17: Unearthly Delight
The Battered Lamp 18: A Nurse's Touch
The Battered Lamp 19: Harem Delights
The Battered Lamp 20: Passionate Reunion
The Battered Lamp 21: Incubus Desires
The Battered Lamp 22: Fiery Passion
The Battered Lamp 23: Submissive Genie
The Battered Lamp 24: Serving the Genie
The Battered Lamp 25: The Loving Concubines
The Battered Lamp 26: The Genie's Seduction
The Battered Lamp 27: Genie Passion
Succubus Cafe 1: My Submissive Desire
The Bride Possessed
Chapter One: Rose of Despair
I lost him.
The thought echoed through the Pixie's mind as she stared up at the dark storm clouds churning above her. She lay naked, hidden by the tightly-grown rose brushes, concealed from the outside world. From her failure.
I lost him.
Only hours ago, she had been happy and engaged to the Mortal Champion. To Gunnar.
Maeve of the Red Rose had left Summer, the realm of the Seelie Faerie, and ventured forth into the Mortal World. She was the Emissary of Queen Titania, sent to find the Mortal Champion before Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness, could claim him.
And now Corrigan, Winter's Emissary, had done just that.
And it's all my fault.
A month ago, she had crossed over and met Gunnar. Not only had she found the Mortal Champion before Winter, but she had won his heart. Gunnar was amazing. He was strong and loving, passionate and caring. He was a warrior and poet. Nurseful... Together, they had forged a strong love, armoring Gunnar from Corrigan's foul magic.
So long as Maeve and Gunnar loved each other, Corrigan of the Winter's Kiss, a vile Lean Sidhe of the Unseelie Fey, could not use her magic to twist Gunnar's love and enslave him. So Corrigan had first tried to kill Maeve.
But the Pixie had survived, and the assassination attempt only seemed to bring her and Gunnar closer together. And then he had proposed marriage a week ago.
The naked Pixie brushed her finger against the engagement ring on her left hand as the rain hammered her. Her gossamer wings fluttered once, half submerged in icy, muddy water. The cold seeped into the Fey, but she didn't notice it as she ran through her mistakes over and over.
I lost him.
Even as Maeve and Gunnar had grown closer and closer, she found it harder and harder to admit to Gunnar what she truly was. She couldn't bear for her solid, practical, stubborn warrior to reject her true nature. Gunnar didn't believe in magic or Fairies. She kept putting it off and off while Gunnar became more and more convinced that Maeve was open and honest with him.
And Corrigan had used that mistake to shatter Gunnar's love.
While celebrating her engagement to Gunnar—what poor, dead Magda had called a bachelorette party—a Bodath had attacked Maeve's sorority. The foul Fey had been birthed by Corrigan and tore through Maeve's protective spells around the sorority with ease. Though Maeve had killed the Bodath, strangling the beast with roses, the Fey had killed Magda.
I let down Gunnar and my best friend.
In a fury over the beautiful Magda's death, the Pixie had launched herself into the night. She had been full of the fiery passion of love and Summer. Maeve had followed the Bodath's trail to Corrigan's house.
Maeve had been so full of rage she hadn't immediately noticed Gunnar's presence. The Pixie had blown apart Corrigan's wards and blasted open her living room. She had flown in, ready to burn the Lean Sidhe apart.
Instead Corrigan was kissing Gunnar. And instead of fighting Maeve, Corrigan had cast a glamour, clouding Gunnar's vision while she cried and blubbered, hiding behind Gunnar. Before Maeve knew what was happening, Corrigan's pair of hellhounds had leaped past the Pixie to attack Gunnar. Corriga
n had been ready for this moment, handing Gunnar a cold iron poker. Maeve's mighty warrior had easily dispatched the pair of hellhounds while Corrigan maintained her terrified act.
Gunnar had thought Maeve had sent the hellhounds to attack him. Corrigan's glamour had made him see the Pixie as something foul. Maeve had tried to break the illusion, but she had stood in the heart of Corrigan's power. Because of her failure, Gunnar's love had been shattered by the belief his fiancee had tried to kill him.
That I am a monster.
Maeve had witnessed Gunnar's love shatter. She could see people's auras, read their hearts, and Gunnar's love in her had been badly damaged. It left him open to Corrigan's touch. Maeve had kept trying, but Gunnar had the cold iron poker gripped in his fist. He had been terrified of her, brandishing the foul cold iron—the only substance truly poisonous to a Fey—at her.
Despair had claimed Maeve, and she had fled to her roses.
I lost him.
Images of Gunnar kneeling before Corrigan flooded her mind. Her strong warrior was owned by Winter. Corrigan had manipulated Maeve into destroying her own love.
Only despair filled Maeve, driving away all her love. Bit by bit, she would let grief steal her away into dreamless sleep and fade from the world.
I lost him.
~ ~ ~
Gunnar's mind didn't want to work as he followed Corrigan through her house. The disgusting, foul thing that had been his fiancee had ripped out his heart when she flew off, leaving only a hollow hole that needed filling. Even if it was with Corrigan.
His mind rebelled at comprehending what his fiancee had really turned out to be. How his sweet, loving, playful lover had secretly been a hideous fiend didn't make sense to Gunnar. He didn't want to think about it.
Once again, the woman I love turned out to be a monster.
First Mindy had crushed Gunnar's heart when she revealed that she was secretly a slut, letting every guy at a party gangbang her. And now Maeve. Gunnar was glad his heart was gone. He only wished the pain would flee as well.
Corrigan's perfect, shapely ass swayed before him as she climbed the stairs. Flashes of her shaved pussy appeared between her sleek thighs. Her violet hair fell in a curtain down her back, swaying as she walked, and her golden eyes shot him smoky looks over her shoulder, beckoning him onward.
His blood grew hotter. The drunken lust he had felt at the bachelor party returned, hardening his cock. He focused on the lust, the ache in his empty chest fading. It was soothing to feel anything other than despair.
“I've been waiting for this for such a long time,” purred Corrigan. “Umm, but you are so handsome, Gunnar.”
He didn't answer. That was too much effort.
“I'll make you forget all about that horrible Maeve. Don't you worry. I'll heal your pain.” Her voice was thick and sultry, purring like honey, but there was the faintest hint of ice.
Gunnar didn't care. She could be cold. All he wanted was to be rid of the pain, to lose himself in any distraction.
The last image of Maeve reared in Gunnar's mind, not the fearsome thing dripping foul ichor with hideous, fly-like wings, but of her red hair flying behind her, her gossamer wings glinting gold, and the terrible despair engulfing her face.
Gunnar stumbled, pausing on the stairs.
Why had she been full of despair? She had fled in fear of the poker, so why did she look so different that last—
A blast of frigid air engulfed Gunnar, driving away that thought. His blood burned hotter, driving away the cold. Corrigan waited at the top of the stairs, her breasts round and inviting, her pink nipples hard. She beckoned.
Gunnar's throbbing cock urged him to follow.
His feet thumped as he climbed the last few stairs. Corrigan led him into a bedroom. The decoration surprised him. The carpet was white as fresh snow, the bed was intricately carved, clearly an antique, and stained almost black. A pale-blue comforter covered the bed. The dresser was covered in dollies, and little cat knickknacks dotted the room. Pictures of an old woman holding various cats dotted the walls.
It wasn't the bedroom of a wild girl like Corrigan.
“This is my grandmother's house,” she smiled, sensing his question. “She's on a cruise and I'm watching it for her.”
Corrigan stretched out on the bed, writhing sensuously. Gunnar's cock burned hotter, aching to be buried in her flesh, to find forgetfulness in her arms. Gunnar ripped off his shirt, exposing his broad chest, ruffling his shoulder-length, sandy-blond hair. He had the build and look of a Viking warrior, wide shoulders, rippling muscles. Only his eyes would seem strange, one blue and the other brown.
“I've been dreaming of this all semester,” moaned Corrigan. “Ever since I laid eyes on you that first time in Professor Webster's class.” Her fingers slid down her lush body, pushing between her thighs and stroking her pussy. She spread her lips open, revealing her wet, pink flesh. “I need you! Make love to me, Gunnar. Forget about Maeve. Take your reward for driving off that demon.”
“Demon?” Gunnar growled. Was Maeve a demon?
How could you love a demon?
The pain returned, so he ignored it, listening to his throbbing cock. He ripped off his pants, his girth popping out. Corrigan let out a throaty moan, her fingers playing through her pussy lips as she writhed, her tits jiggling.
“Come to me, Gunnar. Be mine.”
A cold wind tickled down the back of his neck. Corrigan seemed even more beautiful and desirable. She eclipsed any woman Gunnar had ever seen. Her beauty was perfect. He drank in her pale, lithe flesh as he moved to the bed.
He crawled onto the blue comforter, seizing her thighs and pulling her pussy closer to his mouth. She smelled cool and fresh. His mouth watered. Gunnar took a long lick up her pussy, savoring her flavor as she shuddered.
“Yes! Eat me! Love me! Worship me, Gunnar! Oh, yes! I've wanted this for so long! Umm, yes!”
Gunnar spread her pussy lips far apart with his thick fingers, working his tongue deep into her pink flesh. She squealed and moaned, shuddering beneath his hungry mouth. Her toes curled, her hips arching into his mouth.
Gunnar loved to eat pussy. He loved to give a woman pleasure, savoring her gasps and moans as he fed on her succulent flesh. Every pussy was different. Some women had plump, tight vulva, their labia barely peaking out, and other women had fat, wrinkly lips you could suck into your mouth, with so many variations in between. Shaved, trimmed, or bushy. He didn't care. From the virginal appearance of a shaved pussy, to the excitement of silky pubic hairs brushing his lips, he enjoyed every one.
But not Corrigan's.
She tasted wonderful. Her flesh was hot. Her thighs pressed against his face as she bucked and moaned against his hungry lips. He sent his tongue probing her depths, his nose nuzzling against her hard clit.
But all he could think about was driving his cock into her depths. He liked to give a woman at least one orgasm before fucking her, but the emptiness inside him needed to be filled. And he wouldn't fill that pain by eating out her pussy.
Gunnar rose, crawling up her body.
“No! Don't stop!” she hissed, her hands clasping his shoulder, trying to push him back down her body. “Make me cum, Gunnar!”
“No,” he growled. “You can cum on my cock! I need to be in you.”
She struggled to push him down, but he was strong. His hands shoved her thighs farther apart as he settled between them. Corrigan moaned her frustration, but then reached down and seized his cock, stroking him and guiding him to her pussy.
“You always were so stubborn,” Corrigan muttered as his cock nudged the lips of her pussy. Gunnar groaned, savoring her silky feel, and then drove into her.
Hot, tight flesh engulfed him. Bliss radiated out from his cock. Gunnar reveled in her wet silk, the despair in his heart banished by the pleasure. He sank deeper, going so slow, savoring every inch as he penetrated her.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, her thighs wrapping about him. “You'll be worth
all the effort to tame you.”
Gunnar didn't care what she said. His right hand seized her heavy breast. He squeezed it, thumbing her nipple. She shuddered beneath him, bucking up into his thrusts. Her lips nibbled at his chin and cheek, trying to find his lips.
He turned his head, raising his body up with his arms. He drove his cock deep into her pussy, his strokes growing harder and harder. She gasped beneath him, her fingernails raking down his broad chest as her golden eyes shone with passion.
“Take my cock,” he grunted. “Take it, whore!”
“Whore!” Corrigan laughed. “Umm, you'll pay for that.”
Gunnar didn't care, her fingernails biting harder into his flesh. He drew back, slamming his cock in deep. “You love it, whore. I've seen you strutting around school. You're just like Mindy and...” He couldn't say her name. “You're a slut. You've just been aching for my cock.”
“Oh, I have,” she moaned, undulating beneath him. “It's wonderful. Keep fucking me, stud. Keep pounding me. Oh, yes! You're big dick is going to make me explode.”
“Good.” The bed creaked, the headboard thumping into the wall. “I love it when a whore cums on my cock.”
Corrigan's eyes squeezed shut. A naughty squeal escaped her lips, her pussy writhing about his shaft. Gunnar savored her orgasm. Her pussy tightened and relaxed, intensifying the ache at the tip of his cock.
His balls tightened as they hammered into her.
“Cum in me!” she hissed, her fingernails biting even harder into his chest. The pain flared, compelling his hips to hammer her pussy harder.
“Yes!” he roared, burying his cock to the hilt in her depths.
Gunnar shuddered as his balls boiled.
His cum erupted from his cock. Great pulses of pleasure rocketed through him. He grunted with each one, throwing back his head. For a moment, everything faded but the wonderful bliss of his orgasm. He clutched to it, never wanting to lose it.
But he did lose it and the pain returned.
Gunnar collapsed on top of Corrigan.
“Umm, that was wonderful,” she purred in his ear. “I love you, Gunnar. I've loved you since the moment I met you.”
