Page 74 of Bound to the Dreadlord

It was about something far more dangerous.

His fingers work me with a precision that makes my knees weak, teasing and stroking until I’m trembling in his arms. I bite my lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes anyway, a soft, broken sound that only seems to fuel his hunger.

His lips trail down my throat, teeth grazing my skin in a way that sends shivers down my spine.

“You can lie to yourself,” he murmurs against my collarbone, his breath hot and uneven. “But your body doesn’t lie. You want this as much as I do.”

I want to deny it, to scream at him that he’s wrong, but the words die in my throat as his fingers curl inside me, hitting a spot that makes my vision blur. My hips buck against his hand, and I hate how good it feels, how much I crave more.

“Veylan—” His name slips out before I can stop it, a plea and a protest all at once.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his silver eyes blazing with a mix of triumph and desire. “Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough. “Say my name like you mean it.”

I shake my head, defiance flaring even as my body betrays me. But he doesn’t give me a choice. His fingers withdraw, leaving me aching and empty, and before I can protest, he’s lifting me off the ground.

My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and he carries me to the bed, dropping me onto the mattress with a force that knocks the air from my lungs.

He’s on me in an instant, his body pressing mine into the sheets, his weight both suffocating and exhilarating. His hands are everywhere, tearing at my clothes with a desperation that mirrors my own. Fabric rips, and cool air hits my skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the heat of his body as he strips away the last barriers between us.

His cock presses against my thigh, hard and unyielding, and I can’t help but gasp at the size of him. He notices, of course, and a smirk curls his lips as he leans down to capture my mouth in another searing kiss.

“You’re mine,” he growls against my lips, his voice a low, possessive rumble. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

I want to argue, to fight, but all coherent thought vanishes as he positions himself between my legs. The head of his cock brushes against my entrance, and I tense, my body torn between fear and anticipation.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

I meet his gaze, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us. His silver eyes are dark with need, but there’s something else there too—something that makes my chest ache in a way I don’t want to examine too closely.

Then he pushes inside me, and I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders. He’s big, so big, and the stretch burns in the most delicious way.

He pauses, giving me a moment to adjust, but the restraint is clearly costing him. His jaw is clenched, his muscles taut with the effort of holding back.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “Tight and wet and perfect.”

I want to hate him for the way he makes me feel, for the way my body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. But all I can do is arch into him, my hips lifting to meet his as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow at first, deliberate, each one dragging a moan from my lips. But it’s not enough—not for him, and not for me. I can feel the tension building inside me, a coil tightening with every stroke, and I need more.

“Faster,” I gasp, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

He lets out a low, dark laugh, but he obliges, his hips snapping forward with a force that makes me cry out. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider as he drives into me with a rhythm that’s both punishing and perfect.

The bed creaks beneath us, the sound mingling with the slap of skin against skin and the ragged sounds of our breathing. His name spills from my lips over and over, a litany of pleasure and desperation, and he answers with growls and curses, his control slipping with every thrust.

“Veylan!” I scream over and over again.

“Damn it, Sera! You make me crazy,” he growls, his hold over me tightening. “Fuck it! Yes!”

I can feel the pressure building inside me, a wave threatening to crash, and I cling to him as it crests, my body shattering around him.

“I’m coming!” I croak, my voice breaking.

“Come with me,” he lets out an almost animal like roar as he follows me over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside me, his forehead pressed against mine as he lets out a low, guttural groan.

For a moment, we stay like that, our bodies tangled together, our breaths mingling in the space between us. Then he pulls back, his expression unreadable as he looks down at me.

“Remember who you belong to,” he says again, his voice softer now but no less possessive.

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