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Authors: Leila Bryce Sin

The Elfbitten Trilogy

BOOK: The Elfbitten Trilogy
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The Elfbitten Trilogy

 

The Taryn Malloy Fantasies

 

By

 

Leila Bryce Sin

 

 

Includes:

Elfbitten

Elfstruck

Elfspell

 

Other Titles by Leila Bryce Sin:

 

Elfmoon – the Fourth Taryn Malloy Fantasy

 

Erotic Fairy Tales:

Little Red and the Wolf

Rapunzel

Rumpelstiltskin

Snow White and the Huntsman

The Mermaid

Snow White and Rose Red

Cinderella and the Masquerade

Sleeping Beauty

 

Erotic Fairy Tales Volumes 1-5

Erotic Fairy Tales Volumes 6-9

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Leila Bryce Sin

Cover art designed by Leila Bryce Sin

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One: Elfbitten

Chapter Two: Elfstruck

Chapter Three: Elfspell

Sneak Peak: Elfmoon

 

 

 

Chapter One: Elfbitten

 

 

The club was sticky thigh hot and I was already regretting the leather miniskirt. I pushed my way through the gyrating crowd, nearly stumbling into the hallway that led to the ladies room. I blew my bangs out of my eyes and smoothed down the sides of my skirt, hitting skin much sooner than I was used to. My stomach was turning in knots and my heart was beating against my ribs, threatening to burst out. Now that would’ve been sexy. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this place yet. I click-clacked my way to the restroom, really wishing I had gone with the knee-high boots rather than the stilettos, but I thought more skin would give me a little more confidence. Really though, balance would’ve done that for me better than these fucking heels.

Amazingly, there wasn’t a line for the ladies room. I reached for the door; my hand hesitated in mid-air as I changed my mind and nudged it open with my hip. One stall was occupied and all of the mirrors were free, but one look around the room was enough to understand why it was empty and I would be getting out of here quickly as well. I walked over to one of the sinks and ran the cold water, wetting my fingertips and pressing the cold droplets to the back of my neck.

I glanced in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself. My blonde hair was teased beyond control, adding another inch to my height, but it still hung past my shoulders. My eye make up was dark and heavy, making my grey eyes nearly transparent; I did love the length of the fake eyelashes though. I grabbed a paper towel and scrubbed off the matching black lipstick; it was just overkill and made me look dead. I fished out a muted, dark red lipstick and applied it to my lips, making them look full and plump and wet. I tossed the lipstick back into my purse and tried to adjust what little of a top I was wearing. I never dressed like this and that was way too much cleavage for a Tuesday.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I muttered to myself as I tried to find another inch of skirt to ensure my ass was covered.

“Excuse me?” the woman from the stall asked as she approached the sinks.

“Oh, sorry,” I laughed a little, feeling my cheeks flame under her stare. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“We’re the only ones in here, doll.”

“Right,” I closed my eyes and flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I was talking to myself.”

“Just don’t answer yourself,” she grinned at me and turned to wash her hands. I tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled. “You doing alright?” she asked my reflection.

“Oh yeah, just my first night out after the break up and I made the mistake of letting my friend dress me.” I turned back to my mirror and tried again to adjust my top and cover some of the cleavage, but the more I pulled it up, the more my stomach showed.

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” she paused, grabbing a paper towel to dry her hands and look me up and down, her gaze lingering on the swell of my hips and the strain of my shirt. “I hated you the minute I saw you, so your friend did a good job.”

“Uh, thanks?” I stared after her as she left, the door falling closed on her grinning face. I stood back from the mirror and took another look at myself. Yeah, I’d probably hate me too, but Roxy said I needed to get on with my life and move on. Cillian and I had broken up over a month ago; he was already cuddled up with that fairy bitch, why shouldn’t I have some fun? I glanced at the mirror again and tucked my hair behind my left ear, showing off the sharp point, sure to attract more attention than the leather and barely-there shirt.

“Alright, Taryn,” I said to my reflection. “Let’s show Cillian what he’s missing.” I grabbed the door handle and pulled, sauntering out of the restroom and heading for the club. My heels clicked a staccato on the bare floor until the right one snapped under me, sending me stumbling into the wall, catching myself just before I fell.

“Son of a bitch!” I whispered through gritted teeth, thanking the gods no one had seen that. I ripped off my shoes and clutched them in my hand. “At least the floor isn’t sticky.” I went back into the club; the music was fast and pulsing, guiding the gyrating crowd, all of the booths that lined the walls were occupied with tangled couples or groups and the whole place smelled like heat. Heat of bodies, of lust, of hunger.

I felt like a child, now only five foot one without my heels, as everyone else seemed to tower over me. I spotted the coat check and hurried over, dodging between tables and bodies, almost panting when I reached it, setting my shoes on the counter.

“That sucks,” the pixie girl in the tiny room said, smiling at me with pink lips that matched her spiky hair.

“Tell me about it.” I rolled my eyes and handed her the ticket stub she’d given me when I turned in my coat. “Can you put my purse with my coat and toss these for me?” I gestured to the ruined shoes.

“Sure thing. You want me to see if we have any shoes you can steal?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they’re disinfected, so don’t worry. What’re you?” she leaned over the counter to look at my feet.  “A five?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold on.” She took my purse and disappeared among the racks, coming back a minute later with a gorgeous pair of soft black suede boots. She handed them to me over the counter.

“You sure about this?” I asked, even though I was already pulling the right one on.

“Oh yeah, people take them off in the booths and totally forget about them. They’ve been here for weeks now.”

“Thank you so much,” I sighed in relief and pulled a folded bill out of my cleavage and popped the big tip in her jar. Even though the boots were flats, I suddenly felt much more self-assured. Maybe it was knowing I wasn’t in any danger of twisting an ankle in these.

I spun on my heel, feeling six inches taller, and stalked back into the crowd. I let the music swirl through me, the beat finding the rhythm of my pulse. I slipped into the gyrating mass of bodies, my hips swaying in time with the music, my legs bouncing and shoulders rolling. The crowd took me. The magic sleeping inside of me sparked, answering the call of music, skin, and heat. There was magic in the crowd, elves, fairies, humans all pulling on the primal power pulsing inside of us. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized just how drained I had become in the wake of Cillian’s and my breakup.

Hands slipped over my waist, arms circled me and passed me along, fingers trailed over my hips. I closed my eyes and lifted my face, my hair falling back and brushing my exposed skin. My sense of self fell away under the demand of the crowd and I gave myself over to the magic. It began to fill me, making me whole again. Magic welled inside of me, feral and ready to be used when I needed it.

I felt rough hands take my hips, pulling me back into someone. Our bodies swayed together and, as I ground my body against him, I felt his body respond happily. A smile curled over my lips. Sweat broke out over my body and trickled down my cleavage. I arched against the stranger, lifting my hands up and back, finding his neck. I reached farther until my fingers slipped into his hair and I grabbed hold and pulled. His fingers curled into the skin of my round hips, hurting just enough. My breath escaped in a moan stolen by the music. He spun me around, grabbing me under my ass, and pulled me into him again. I hooked one leg on his hip and clung to his shoulders. The leather of my skirt scraped against my skin as it hiked up my hips, exposing me to the crowd, but when I opened my eyes, I realized I probably had on more clothing than most.

My dancing partner was shirtless, showing off hard work and rippling muscles. My nails dug into his round, full shoulders. His arms and chest were decorated with tribal tattoos, flowing over the curves and hallows of his body. His eyes were grey, matching my own, glowing as his magic answered the call of my body. I knew my eyes were also shining with magic, lighting my face. I ran my fingers through his long, sunlit auburn hair, gathering it and holding on, exposing his sharply tipped ears. He grinned at me, his teeth just a little sharper than mine, telling me he was a Hunter. I quirked an eyebrow at him before throwing my head back, arching my body against him, grinding into his welcoming hips.

The Hunter held me with one arm circled around my waist as he reached with his other hand, fingers sneaking up my thigh, gripping the meager bit of lace that arched over my hip. He pulled at the lace, bending forward and burying his face in my neck, growling against my skin. I shuddered under his demand. I bit my trembling lip, wanting to give in to his demands, right here in the middle of the crowd with lust and heat egging us on. The rough material of his low slung jeans rubbed against me, making my body tremble and testing my resolve. Whipping my head forward, using his hair for leverage, we locked eyes, pressing our foreheads together. I could feel his breath on my skin, filling me with his desire. I tilted my chin and pressed my lips against his, hungrily feeding from him.

I nicked my lip on his teeth, blood and iron flavoring our kiss as his tongue slipped in my mouth. I drew his lower lip between my teeth, sucking on it, tasting my own blood. Blood was rushing in my ears and my body was glistening with sweat, a rush of nerves fluttered through me. I lowered my leg to the floor and spun my body in the Hunter’s hands, pressing my shoulders into his chest, tilting my face up. My hips found the rhythm of his; he was hard and ready, pressed against my ass. I grinned up at the ceiling and let his hands wander my body as we danced.

His hands were warm and rough, running over my stomach, one hand reaching up while the other teased the edge of my skirt. I felt his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, reaching until he cupped my breast, no bra barring his access. A moan escaped my lips as his fingers brushed over my nipple, tender and hard to his touch. I arched harder against him, grinding my ass into him, making his hand clench at my breast, his nails biting into the soft skin. He bent his head forward and bit down on the exposed skin of my shoulder. I gasped as the skin broke, my eyes flying open. It was sweetly painful as he licked at the wound, his hand finally braving the hem of my skirt, and his fingers rubbed against the lacy fabric still in his way. I had never been with a Hunter before; Roxy had told me stories, but nothing prepared me for the reality of his bite.

His fingers worked at me while his mouth latched on to his bite mark, flicking his tongue over my skin, working the muscle. I could feel my whole body responding, the orgasm already edging closer, stealing my sight as my eyes fluttered open and closed. His nails were drawing light, tiny circles over my breast, teasing the nipple all the while as his other hand pulled away from me, making me whimper in protest. Before I could do anything else, his fingers slipped under the lace and were plunging into me, his palm rubbing against my swollen bud of pleasure as he worked. I cried out, my voice lost to the music and the crowd. He pressed me harder against himself, my ass grinding against him, but I wanted to feel what my body was doing to him.

BOOK: The Elfbitten Trilogy
7.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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