Unbound: The Cursed Trilogy, Book One by Betty Legend (small books to read .txt) 📕

stress lines in his brow. “They came to your house.” He says the words aloud as though he needs to hear them to believe them. “I should’ve been here.”

“Cyrus.” I put my hands on his shoulders to calm him. “It’s all right. I handled it. I need to be able to defend myself. I can’t depend on you, Griffin, and Emeric to protect me at all times. We all have responsibilities.”

“I’m relieved you’re all right.” Cyrus pulls me into his arms and hugs me as though I’ve been gone for a painfully long time.

Leaning back, I kiss him, and his muscles relax.

“I have good teachers.”

“I’d like to teach you more and make you dinner. How do you feel about coming to my place?”

“Your place?” My brow rises. “Do you have a place nearby?”

“Two hours from here, but it won’t take us that long to get there.”

“I’m in. Let me get cleaned up, so we can go.”

For the third time today, I’m in and out of the shower, do a quick dry of my hair, and put on black skinny jeans and a lowcut top. Might as well look good for my supernatural boyfriend and our magical date night. Coming out of my bedroom, Cyrus’s eyes widen as his gaze lustfully takes in the view.

“You look stunning.”

Giving him a once-over, I admire the way his navy-blue button-down hugs his muscled arms and chest. The first two buttons are open, and I wonder if that’s to entice me. It’s definitely working. I want to rip another shirt off him and relish in the sounds he makes when I suck him off.

As if he’s reading my mind, the corner of his mouth lifts and the tip of his tongue licks his luscious lips. He takes the few steps to me and slips that tongue between my lips, teasing my ever-growing need for him.

As my mind goes blank, the sensations in my body taking over, he creates a spinning portal and backs me right through it. My next step is onto a sidewalk in front of a wrought-iron gate. When his lips leave mine, I place my thumb over his mouth.

“These lips are perfect. I can’t get enough of them.”

He strokes my cheek as his eyes brighten.

“I hope that never changes.”

Taking my hand, he turns me toward an immense brick historical home. The nameplate on the iron gate reads Cloverfield.

“Is that your family name?”

“Yes. This home has been in my family for generations.”

The red brick has white windows evenly cut between them, revealing three floors of the home. An extensive porch wraps around the front and left side, perhaps farther, and a wide set of steps leads up to a wooden set of double doors. With my hand in Cyrus’, he takes me through the threshold and into the grand entry with a sparkling chandelier above a winding stairwell. An archway on either side leads to more rooms.

“Would you like a tour?”

“Absolutely.”

Room after room has a mix of modern items, along with vintage pieces from prior generations. Cyrus’ office is the most interesting, though. The walls are covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and the shelves are stuffed with fraying spines and tightly bound new books. On the walls without shelves, tall glass cases light up strange artifacts.

“Where did you get all of these artifacts?”

“From auctions, the black market, and the supernatural market.”

“There’s a supernatural underground market? Never mind. Of course, there is.”

I lean down to examine a metal helmet with a gold design across the brow and down the center of the skull, and eye and ear coverage, also done in a metal that appears to be gold.

“How old is this? What culture is it?”

“8th Century AD. It’s a Viking helmet.”

“Is there a supernatural connection to Vikings?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you over dinner.”

“Yes, please pull me away, or I’ll spend hours in here, reading and studying.”

We make our way down to the kitchen. It’s spacious, the cabinets upgraded to a pretty pearl white with knobs and hinges to match the bronze-colored countertops. Cyrus withdraws two wine glasses from the cupboard and pours us each a glass. The blackberry flavor rolls around in my mouth as he gathers items from the refrigerator, then places them on the island counter.

“Would you like some help?”

“Sure.” He kisses my cheek as I join his side. “Do you mind slicing these carrots?”

“Not at all.”

He hands me the chefs’ knife, then fills a pot to boil water and seasons the chicken. Moments later, he touches a remote, and music plays from the corners of the kitchen. The music is smooth, sophisticated, and full of an array of instruments—much like Cyrus. Everything about him is interesting and sophisticated. He’s incredibly intelligent but doesn’t wield it like a weapon. Instead, he has a calm confidence I find sexy.

Finished with the carrots, I tuck my arms around his waist and lazily pull his shirt from his waistband. When my hand slides into his pants and rubs over his cock, I notice a tick in his jaw, his muscles tensing with restraint.

“Don’t hold back, Cy.”

Setting his glasses on the counter, he pulls my hand out of his pants, turns, and hoists me onto the counter behind us. Removing his shirt first, he spreads my legs, shoves between them, and devours my mouth with his sensuous kiss.

At the bottom of my shirt, his hands slide up, removing it and my bra at the same time. Covering my breast with one of his caressing hands, his mouth claims the other, twirling my nipple with his skilled tongue. My body detonates with rich, yearning desire.

“More, Cy. I want more of you.”

Sliding me off the counter, he holds one hand to my thigh as my legs cling to his waist, the other arm around my back as he takes us into the living room. Laying me on the couch, his silver brimming eyes do a slow burn over my body as he removes my pants and underwear.

“This body, Selene, was made for me.”

Kissing the inside of my thigh, his fingers