OwnedbytheElf

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by Mina Carter


  “Mine,” he growled, a deep sound of warning from the depths of his soul, and started to move, pulling out of her almost all the way and slamming back in. They both groaned. “You want a fucking, you’ll get one.”

  Fuck her he did, calling magic to shield everything but the bare minimum from anyone more interested in them than the claiming still going on. The scent of magic and sex swirled around them as he forgot about finesse or making it last and just took her as his heart and body demanded.

  “Why did you come back? Admit it,” he panted between heavy thrusts as she moaned and writhed beneath him. She’d put herself in danger coming back here. Had run the risk of being claimed by another elven warrior. If that had happened, he would have ripped the guy limb from limb in front of her. Feral rage rose up at the thought of another man touching her.

  “I wanted you.”

  She shot him a defiant glare and rolled her hips against his. His balls pulled tight and he bit back a groan. Smart-mouthed wench. He’d teach her a better use for that sharp tongue later.

  “Not good enough. Admit it…the truth.”

  Each word was punctuated by another heavy thrust as he speared her with his cock, slamming into her and fucking her so thoroughly that she’d never look at another guy.

  The first spasms of her climax rippled through her body, her cunt clamping down on his cock with an almost punishing grip. One that tempted him to join her as she went over the edge.

  Gritting his teeth, he spread her thighs and drove deeper. He needed to hear it, needed to hear the words.

  “Oh gods, I’m coming.”

  “Admit it.”

  She gasped as her back arched, her eyes wide and unseeing.

  “I love you!”

  Her climax ripped through her slender body with the force of a storm. Her body tightened around his, the feeling and her admission too much for him. With a roar, Bane released the rigid control on his own body and followed her into bliss.

  Epilogue

  He was out there. Somewhere, out there in the darkness of the woods, he lay in hiding. Waiting for her to make a mistake and reveal her position. Tamryn’s heart pounded in her chest, a rapid tattoo as her breath rasped in her ears, the sound all but deafening her. Adrenaline and anticipation rolled through her veins as she slid from the cover of the shadows and stepped out onto the narrow path.

  Moonlight sliced through the thinner branches to paint the undergrowth around her in a masterpiece of silver and black. The white shift she wore practically glowed, another advantage he had over her. In his dark leather and mail, by the time she saw him, it would be too late.

  Poised on the edge of the path, she listened for any sign he was near, anything that would tip her off. His breathing, the slight chink of mail, a rustle in the undergrowth, even the absence of natural sound that might indicate he was lying in wait.

  Her bare toes brushed the dry dirt and she shivered despite the warm summer night. Which way did she go, left or right? Whichever she chose, he would find her eventually. He always did. There was no escape. Not for her.

  Silence reigned, nothing but the whispering of the wind in the trees reaching her ears. Heart in her throat, she took the plunge and turned left to hurry down the path between the trees.

  Her heart rate picked up. She expected him to burst from the trees at any second and chase her down. He was near, she could feel his eyes on her. Every deep group of shadows became suspect as she picked up the pace, her body aching in more ways than one and ready to leap into a sprint at a second’s notice. She held back, knowing she needed all her energy, all her speed for when he finally caught her.

  The trees around the path thinned out as it widened into a moonlit clearing blanketed with soft grass and fragrant moss. A grin curved her lips as she allowed triumph to fill her. In the center of the clearing lay her goal—a blanket spread over the grass next to Bane’s pack. If she could reach it, then she was home free. She’d have won the game.

  Her steps got quicker the closer she got until she was near an all-out run. It couldn’t be this easy, surely? Bane the Terrible, the ultimate elven warrior, was really slipping up if he’d let her evade him this easily.

  She was almost there. The thrill of victory sang in her veins as she reached the grass. She didn’t notice the large shadow detach itself from the tree line until it was too late. Movement tugged at her peripheral vision. She turned. Bane ran at her, flat-out and low.

  Her gasp was more of a squeal as she ran for all she was worth, aware of the big warrior pounding across the grass toward her. She wasn’t going to make it. The angle he was headed meant he’d get to her before she reached the safety of the blanket.

  His low chuckle reached her ears, wrapping around her and making her body ache with longing. She’d always found his laugh sexy. The erotic heat that swirled through her body sapped the energy from her limbs. That sexy bastard of an elf knew it as well, knew what he did to her.

  She slowed, just a little, but it was enough. Within a heartbeat he had her, strong arms wrapping her up as he tackled her to the ground mere feet from the safety of the blanket.

  “No escape, you’re mine.”

  His familiar growl filled her ear as she was pressed into the cool grass, a solid male body atop her. Cool mail and worn leather pressed into her back, clearly felt through the thin shift. She might as well have been wearing nothing.

  He moved to press his hips against hers, and she gasped at the feeling of his cock, thick and heavy, against the groove of her ass. Heat and sheer, unadulterated need exploded through her like a shooting star. Her pussy clenched, liquid heat slipping from her to signal her body’s readiness for his possession.

  A possession she welcomed. Needed. Wanted. And never more so than when they played this game, reliving his claiming of her every full moon. She arched her back and thrust her ass upward, grinding against his rock-hard cock. She ached to be filled, to feel that thick length sliding in and out of her tight channel.

  “Tease.”

  He nipped her ear, sending another bolt of pleasure through her body to her engorged clit, and then flipped her over. Desire and dark intent shone in his gaze as he looked down at her. Much as she wanted him, wanted him to strip the simple shift from her body and make her his with all the ruthlessness she adored, she couldn’t make this easy for him. Easy was boring. She needed to raise the stakes, get him nice and fired up.

  Twisting her wrist, she evaded his grasp and pulled the dagger from its sheath at his waist. Blanking her face to hide her glee, she pressed the razor-sharp blade against the inside of his thigh.

  “Hold it right there.”

  Bane froze, his big body perfectly still above her. She didn’t blame him. All his weaponry, including the blade in her hand, was made from dwarf steel—hard as nails and sharper than a dragon’s claw.

  “Sweetheart?” His voice was calm, but she could hear the wariness.

  “Silence, dog. I’m going to show you who’s in charge now,” she mock growled, trying to imitate his gruff tone, then planted a quick kiss on the side of his neck.

  The tension in his frame eased up a little, but not much, given she still had a lethally sharp blade pressed very close to some very delicate portions of his male anatomy.

  “Really? And just who would that be?”

  He leaned down, trying to intimidate her with his muscled frame as he dragged his lips along her neck. She trembled, hardly able to remember her own name, much less what she was trying to do.

  “Ahhh…” She bit her lip as he waged war, playing dirty by nuzzling the sensitive spot just under her ear, then nipping the lobe gently. “That would be me. On your back, you filthy cur.”

  His shoulders shook with suppressed amusement at her theatrical language. Obediently he rolled, taking her with him and, surprisingly, let her keep the knife. She’d expected him to pluck it from her hand and take over. Instead, he moved the blade up to his throat and settled her so she straddled his hips, big hands on
hers to press her down onto the thick evidence of his arousal.

  Unable to help herself, she rolled her hips against him and nearly undid her own campaign. Hot need spiraled through her, the need to beg him to take her making her whimper. She loved having him over her, under her, behind her…she didn’t care how, as long as he pounded into her until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.

  Smothering a whimper, she tried to keep up the tough persona. She’d never tried to assert dominance over him during sex, but the suppressed desire in his eyes said he was willing to play along. More than willing if the thick cock pressed against her was any indication.

  The edge of the knife trailed nonchalantly along the v-shaped neck of his mail, caressing the revealed skin there. He shivered as the blade kissed him, his eyes pools of dark fire as he looked up at her.

  Oh gods, he was really turned-on.

  The knowledge gave her confidence as she leaned forward, wiggling her hips to torment him more as she gave him a good view of her tits in the loose top of the shift. As always, she was naked beneath it. His gaze flicked down for a second and his hands flexed on his hips. He liked to tear the shift from her body, feasting on the twin mounds, teasing and sucking her nipples before moving south and starting all over again.

  Her breath caught as a fresh wave of heat slipped from her.

  “Admit it,” she demanded, ignoring the soft caress of his fingers at her waist. Instead, she channeled her inner bitch and hooked her fingers into the mail at his neck, yanking him upright until they were face-to-face. “I want to hear the words.”

  He met her gaze levelly, the expression in his eyes serious.

  “I love you.”

  Time stopped, the world stopped turning and magic ceased to exist as she looked into his eyes and saw love and desire there. Wonder filled her, a silly grin hot on its heels as the knife fell from her nerveless hand. All these months she’d wondered, suspected from the small things he did just to please her, but he’d never said the words.

  Picking up the knife, he put it back in her hand and pressed it against his chest. The razor-sharp steel dug into his skin, creating a triangular dip before it parted. A bead of scarlet welled and grew as round and bulbous as the holly berries she loved during the winter. She watched as it grew too large and rolled down the blade.

  “My heart belongs to you. Has since you called me elf scum the first time we met,” he admitted, letting go of her hand. “Your call. Cut it out, or let it beat to love you. Claim me, sweetheart.”

  If he’d snatched the blade from her hand and plunged it into her rib cage, he couldn’t have struck a truer blow than he did with his words. Emotion welled up, mingling with the desire running through her body.

  “Claim you? But how?”

  She looked down at her white shift with a frown. The sheer fabric tried its best to conceal her body but failed miserably. “I don’t think this is going to fit you.”

  He smiled, wicked dimples creasing his cheeks. Then his gaze followed hers and all amusement fled, to be replaced by heat and longing.

  “Take me. Fuck me out here with the moon and stars as our witness. Make me yours, Tamryn.”

  His voice was low and husky in the darkness, a deep rumble of sheer temptation. Wild magic gathered around them in response to his words. Holding her gaze, he mastered it, shaping and throwing it around them in a maelstrom of sensation.

  A gasp escaped her as it lifted her shift and stroked along her skin, tugging at her hair and whispering down along her spine. His lips moved, shaping a single word she didn’t quite catch. She soon found out what it was—a spell word. One moment smooth, worn leather brushed against her thighs as she straddled his hips, and the next she felt the smooth, warm skin of his hips and the thick, insistent press of his cock against the grove of her pussy lips.

  He rocked his pelvis and ground his erection against her clit. She moaned, eyes rolling back in her head as white-hot need coiled and pulsed within her.

  “Fuck me, Tamryn,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her arms. “Ride me, long and hard. I want to feel you around me, over me. Know you’re mine and I’m yours.”

  She whimpered, unable to hold out any longer. Lifting up, she dropped the knife unheeded to the ground next to them. He didn’t recover it this time, too busy groaning as she wrapped her fingers around the thickness of his shaft. She loved the feel of his cock in her hands. Biting her lip, she stroked him twice, reveling in the feel of the velvet skin sliding over his steel-like shaft.

  He bit back a curse, arching back against the blanket beneath them as his eyes rolled back in his head. Feeling a rush of feminine triumph at the power she wielded over such a powerful man, she lifted up and fit the thick mushroom head of his cock against the slick entrance to her cunt.

  A moan of pleasure in the back of her throat, she sank down on him. Her body stretched around his thick cock, the fit still so tight she had to hold her breath as he breached her. Rocking herself against him, she felt every inch of his cock as she impaled herself inch by glorious inch on his stiffened shaft.

  His fingers dug into her hips as though to hold her down on him, but she knew better. The fine tremors that racked his body told the tale of how much control he was exerting on himself not to snap and take over.

  “Fucking hells!” He slammed a fist into the ground near his shoulder, every muscle and sinew tensed as she slid down him.

  She whispered sweet nothings, soft feminine murmurs as she gave up any thought of teasing him. Instead, she lifted up and impaled herself again. The slippery slide down his rigid cock drove any other thought out of her head but getting more of the delicious sensation.

  Breathy moans spilled from her throat as she rode him. His hands wrapped around her waist, strong arms lifting her up so she could slide onto him again. Only lifting her, never driving her down.

  “That’s it, sweetheart, ride me,” his deep voice urged, dark whispers that spoke to her very soul. “You’re beautiful. I love watching you when you come.”

  She just nodded, trying to concentrate as her movements grew faster, less controlled. All that mattered was him inside her. She needed to be filled by his cock, his arms around her. Tension coiled in her loins, her clit throbbing every time she ground herself against him. She panted, hands braced on his broad chest as he lifted up to meet her.

  “Bane, please…” she begged, not caring at the pleading note in her voice. She couldn’t go fast enough or hard enough. “Please, I need more.”

  With a rumble of arousal, he wrapped his arms around her, and the next second she was on her back under him.

  “I’ll give you more, sweetheart. I’ll give you everything I am…” he whispered between heavy thrusts. She mewled as pleasure built to breaking point within her. This was what she needed. Him. Bane.

  Two thrusts were all it took to have her hovering on the edge. Time slowed as the chasm yawned beneath her, waiting for her to tip over into ecstasy. She looked up into dark eyes and saw the answer to everything she’d been searching for.

  “Come with me,” she said, reaching up to plant a soft, almost chaste kiss on his lips. “Come with me, forever.”

  He shuddered, the first pulsing of his cock within her setting off her release, and with a mingled roar and moan, Tamryn claimed her elf.

  About the Author

  Multi-published author Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land-surveying, she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her real-life hero and their young daughter…the true boss of the family.

  Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity, Mina never tires of learning new skills, which has led to aromatherapy, corsetry, chain-mail making, welding, canoeing, shooting, and pole-dancing, to name but a few.

  She juggles being a mum, working full time and writing, tossing another ball in the air for her cover artwork. For Mina, writing time is the wee hours of the m
orning before anyone wakes up and starts making demands or any spare minute that can be begged, bought or conned.

  Her first stories were penned at age 11, when she used a stationery set meant for Christmas thank you letters to write stories instead. More recently, she wrote for her own amusement and to save on outrageous monthly book bills. Now she’s totally addicted and needs her daily writing fix or heads roll!

  Mina welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

  Also by Mina Carter

  Flights of Fantasy

  Her Empath

  Lyon’s Price

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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