To keep himself from coming in her mouth, Marcus tried to think, to distract his mind from his cock. Had he ever felt quite this way? Had he ever felt the need to preserve a sexual memory, associate any lovers with something as simple as honey?
To his surprise, he couldn't even remember any of his previous lovers, let alone dredge up any foods to go along with them.
Mariah had indeed finished what the blood of an ancient vampire had started. She had obliterated all that had gone before. His life really had begun anew.
Shuddering with that knowledge, as much as from Maria's mouth, Marcus pulled away. He was near to coming, near to erupting and he wanted it to be inside her. He wanted her there with him, around him, sharing it all with him.
"Mariah." He breathed the word like a prayer, reaching for her and pulling her to her feet.
She was flushed and panting, her arousal scenting the air around them and mingling with the delicate fragrance of the heather honey. God, he wanted her so much. Wanted everything with her. He wanted to hear her every breath, her every heartbeat—to share all that he was with her.
She stared at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and filled with the heat of desire, her lips red and full and shining with traces of honey.
He kissed it away roughly, needing to show her how sharply he needed her. She met him with her own desire, forcing her tongue into his mouth, rubbing her body to his with a tender lust that neither could deny.
"Here." Marcus turned her, pushing her hands onto the back of the chair. "From behind. I want you from behind."
Without a blink, Mariah bent over. She trusted him now—that much was clear. Trusted him with her body, trusted him to make this a wonderful fucking. And he would. The next step would be to get her to trust him with the rest of her life.
But—first things first.
Her buttocks were firm globes, shining in the candlelight. Marcus ran his hand across the silken skin, watching her shiver as he did so. The cleft was shadowed, mysteries yet to be explored. She gasped when he ran his finger down past her anus, barely touching it, yet making sure she could feel his stroke as it pressed fleetingly against the delicate rosy ring.
"Not yet, love. That will come later."
"I don't—I don't—"
She lost the words as Marcus delved into the folds of her pussy and played there, his hand firm against the soaking flesh. No, she probably didn't understand some of the wonders a man and a woman could explore. Or the number of times Marcus had explored that same pleasure with another man.
All in the past now, though. All paled beside the vision of Mariah offering herself to him without hesitation.
He toyed with her clit, knowing instinctively how to caress it so that she squirmed and drenched his hand with her juices. She widened her stance, urging him silently to do what he was doing—to do more—to do anything to ease the growing ache his fingers were creating.
He fully intended to. Marcus had an ache of his own that was threatening to blind him. He would have enjoyed playing like this under other circumstances, but Mariah had set fire to his cock and his balls. Such a blaze would not be denied much longer.
Delicately he set his teeth to one of her buttocks, lightly nipping, then licking the tiny mark he'd left. She groaned and he felt like groaning too, the dull red touch of his teeth branding her as his and sparking every possessive instinct he'd ever had.
It was almost too much.
Marcus set his hands to her hips and nudged her pussy with the head of his cock. "It's time, Mariah. Time to take me—home."
Where those words came from, Marcus had no idea. But they were out and spoken before he could think. Then his cock began to slide into her and he forgot to think at all. He simply drowned in the moment, every particle of his being focused on the sensation of hot silk engulfing his pulsating arousal.
She was tight and slippery and perfectly made for his cock, her inner walls contracting and pulling him into her body as he thrust slowly, inexorably, forward until he filled her.
With her ass against his groin and his balls touching her thighs, Marcus sucked in air.
He was, indeed, home.
"Damn it, Marcus. Do something. Anything. Move—"
He laughed aloud. Like any simple man coming home, his woman was there to greet him. And tell him what to do.
Like any simple man, he obeyed.
Driven by a need to possess all that she was, Marcus began to thrust, his hips finally slapping hard against her ass as he picked up the pace and just let himself go, following a path that would lead to the inevitable conclusion.
It happened sooner than he'd anticipated, the tight constriction of his balls gathered momentum and erupted even as he pounded his cock into Mariah. He arched into a rictus of pleasure, spurting his seed hotly into the passage that trembled around him. He heard himself shout, a meaningless sound ripped from his lungs by the force of his orgasm.
He emptied himself, overflowing her body, great endless bursts of pleasure draining him.
She sighed beneath him, her buttocks thrust against him, clenching him with her muscles, holding him where he was as he rode out the waves of extraordinary passion. He would not take this journey alone.
Still inside her, Marcus reached for her clit, holding himself pressed against her as he stroked it gently. His other hand found one of her breasts, swinging freely in response to his movements.
He grasped the nipple with his fingers and tugged, softly at first, then more firmly, pinching it a little as he teased her clit. Finally he pressed against her pussy, letting his fingers spear through the soaked folds as he squeezed her nipple sharply.
She shattered, a guttural cry drawn from deep within her body.
Marcus held her fast, arms around her belly, his softening cock sensing each and every rippling spasm, his abdomen alive to the twitches of her ass, his hands aware of the trembling that racked her lower body. He loved to share a climax, to know that there were two of them lost to the maelstrom.
But this...this moment was special. He'd passed the peak of his own pleasure and now he could fully devote himself to Mariah's. He could learn how she came, how her body released the tension he'd created. He could feel the little waves of her climax as they shimmered inside her, both through his cock and through his hands. He could hear her heart thundering in her chest and her breaths as they hissed through her teeth.
He held her and rested his forehead against her spine, smiling as he felt the dampness—the two of them were sweating freely. A testament to their endeavors, perhaps. Or maybe the air in the kitchen.
Mariah shifted and sighed, an exhalation that seemed to come from her kneecaps. Marcus could feel it since he was in pretty much the same state.
"Oh, great heavens."
He let her go as she spoke and helped her straighten, although there was more touching and clinging to each other than actual physical assistance. They were both a little dizzy and when their gazes met, they shared similar chuckles.
"I'm..." Mariah looked confused. "Well, I don't know what I am."
Marcus held her to him, reveling in the simple delight of flesh to flesh, skin to skin. "I know what you are. You're mine."
She wrinkled her nose. "At this particular moment, I'm naked and sticky. Not to mention hot." She moved and peeled her breasts from his chest, proving her point. "Eeuuch."
Marcus felt a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face. "I will admit to being a trifle warm myself. Did you put a log on the fire?"
Mariah grinned. "No. 'Tis the land breeze."
"The what?"
"Every now and again at this time of year, the air from inland gets very warm during the day and rushes to the ocean at night. Sometimes we get storms before it reaches us. Other times—like now—we get a last taste of summer."
Mariah grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. "Come on. I have something to show you."
Marcus blinked and leaned on the table. "Now?"
"Oh." She paused,
hands on her buttons. "Are you too tired?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Cheeky wench." He was in his breeches within seconds.
"You won't need your boots. 'Tis not far and the way is all grass." She paused at the door. "I believe you'll enjoy it."
He moved to follow her. "I'm sure I will. Lead on."
Sir Marcus Camberley, peer of the realm, followed Mariah Dean out of the humble farmhouse and into the surprising warmth of a late autumn night, clad only in his breeches and a gleeful grin.
Life was certainly full of unexpected surprises.
Chapter Eight
Mariah led Marcus to a small path at the side of the stables, one she'd taken many times before. She smiled as a muttered curse broke the stillness—he must have trodden on a twig or something.
This was one of her favorite escapes on warm summer nights, but not one she'd ever shared with anyone else, especially not a man.
Within moments, they were among the trees and not long after she slowed her pace. "There. Look." She pointed as Marcus stood next to her.
Water gleamed as the waning moon rose, shining on a small pond within the shelter of the little forest surrounding it. This was a part of the country where heath and woodland met, mingled and then parted, leaving tufts of trees standing tall amidst the lower gorse bushes, broom and heather.
In one such cluster, a stream had found a place to rest, spread out and form a natural wading pool, not deep and still flowing, but angled so that the sun fell on it most of the day.
It was Mariah's answer to the bathing springs of Brighton, nature's way of presenting her with a chance to enjoy a warm tub alfresco. It had been her escape during her unfortunate marriage and now she was finally sharing it—willingly—with another.
Marcus.
"What do you think?" She glanced at him, trying to see his expression in the darkness. "It's warm, it's private..." Her voice trailed off.
"It's perfect." He flicked one finger across her cheek. "Let's get rid of these clothes and try it out."
Mariah's heart soared. This was what it was all about—sharing moments like this, being able to show someone special something special and have them understand without more words than necessary.
As she eagerly scrambled out of her dress and walked into the pond, Mariah swallowed harshly. Tears were close to the surface, although she was not sure why. Perhaps it was the leftover effect of the sex between them making her so emotional.
Perhaps it was the joy of sharing a private paradise with the one person who could appreciate it.
Or perhaps it was the fear that she'd never be able to withstand the pain saying goodbye to him would bring. And say goodbye she would. This nonsense about marriage—well, it was just that. Nonsense.
Then he splashed up behind her, put his arms around her and Mariah forgot everything but him.
"This is—divine." Marcus sounded relaxed. "Just what we needed." He tugged her hand and pulled her a little farther into the water, wading until it reached his navel.
Shaking off her odd mood, Mariah nodded. "Isn't it? Sometimes I'd bring my soap and towel. Other times, I just like to sit here and let it all drift around me."
"How deep does it get?"
"This is about as much water as I've seen. It's more of a spread in the stream than an actual pool. Of course, there's more in the winter or when we get a lot of rain. But then it's too cold to enjoy."
"But now—" Marcus dipped quickly beneath the surface and then came up sputtering and shaking himself. "Now it's just ideal."
"Mmm." Mariah bent low and moved her hands through the dark liquid, making swirls of little bubbles. "It is, isn't it? We're lucky tonight."
"Come on." His teeth flashed white in the moonlight. "Can you swim?"
"Of course." She smiled back. Few women were comfortable in the water, but Mariah had always adored it.
"Good." He dipped beneath the water once again and she felt strong arms loop around her knees, tugging her off balance.
She went under.
And came up laughing and spitting out hair. "God, Marcus. You devil." She lurched toward him, arms outstretched, only to sink again when he moved aside. She heard his laughter as the water filled her ears.
Hah. Staying submerged, she turned in his direction, reached in front of her and kicked hard, colliding rapidly with his thighs.
She hung on and surfaced, deliberately rubbing her body against his flaccid cock as she did so. He caught her up close to his chest.
"Water a little cold for you?" Mariah daringly grazed her hips against him.
"Hmm. Perhaps I need something to warm me."
He kissed her then, hard and fast, lips claiming her all over again, his taste lingering in the back of her throat, his scent filling her mind and her nostrils.
She felt the fires begin anew between her thighs and clearly Marcus wasn't unmoved, since his cock stirred to life against her belly.
Dragging her mouth from his, Mariah caught her breath. "You are dangerous. So dangerous. You make me want—"
"I want the same thing, darling. We're of the same mind. We always will be." Marcus lifted her and walked her backward through the water. "Put your legs around me."
Obediently, Mariah did as he asked, the pool supporting her along with Marcus' strong arms. She groaned a little at the pleasure of finding her pussy so close to his cock and fidgeted, obeying a need they both shared.
"Now? Here?" She whispered the words.
"Yes. Now and here. And always."
Always? Probably not. But now and here, yes. Definitely.
Mariah relaxed into Marcus' embrace, letting him guide her, touch her, stroke her back, kiss her breasts, whatever he wanted, he could have on this magic night.
She shivered at the way his cock grew against her sensitive flesh and at the desire she could feel burning inside her. It was so natural, so right when he lifted her and slid himself inside. They were both content to rest thus, joined in the only way a man and a woman could truly merge.
"This is heaven, Marcus." She whispered the words as her hair drifted around her shoulders, cradled in the embrace of a man she'd come to love so quickly it stunned her. She tried to grasp the moment, to savor it, to tuck it into her mind so she could recall it the rest of her life.
"Yes." He stared down at her. "Yes, Mariah. It is."
Then he moved—just the slightest abrasion of his cock against places within her that responded as if struck by lightning. She gasped and tightened her heels against his back.
"So's this." Marcus smiled, his face lit by moonshine, a pale oval surrounded by a cloud of tousled black hair. He looked like a dark angel, a warlock, a bringer of mystery and wonder who had escaped from her dreams. Or perhaps fulfilled her dreams.
She wasn't sure. And as he teased her further along the path to orgasm, she forgot what she'd asked herself in the first place.
She simply surrendered to his loving.
Softly, easily, with the sound of the waters a hushed accompaniment to the movement of their bodies, Mariah and Marcus rode each other to the brink of completion—a surprisingly gentle passion, different to the one they'd shared in the kitchen.
That had been all about fire and desperate need—this was all about the delight they could find in each other, with nothing spurring them to finish, to erupt in a boiling inferno of sated desires. There were so many facets to loving this man, so many different ways to express her feelings with her body. Mariah was swept up in the night and his arms, sailing willingly to the edge of a waterfall and knowing she'd be safe as they fell together into the chaos that awaited them.
It seemed that Marcus could sense the mood. His strokes were firm and sure, but not the savage thrusting with which he'd claimed her earlier. Now he was caressing her into her climax, staying with her, matching her, meeting her and leading them both with a sure and steady hand.
It gave Mariah chance to explore the sensation of his cock inside her body, letting her take a breath as he pulled
back, then making her shudder as the ridges and swollen length of him slid home once more, stretching and filling her in ways that astounded her.
"Oohhh..." She barely breathed the word, a whisper of delight dancing on the water around them.
"Am I hurting you?"
"Oh no. Not at all." She found herself amazed, aroused and touched—not only where they were joined, but somewhere else, somewhere deep within her mind. "Marcus...this isn't like fucking, is it?"
She felt the ripples of his body as he shook his head. "No. It's not fucking anymore, Mariah. It's making love."
That was something to think about, the implications, the subtle nuances—when she had time, Mariah would examine these things at length. But right now she'd take whatever it was, go with the flow of Marcus' moves, his body, his cock and its steady rhythmic penetration.
"I feel like a wave on the ocean..."
"That's good."
"Yes, so good..." Her body tensed in spite of a sudden wish to prolong this idyll. Nature was going to take its course whether she wanted it to or not. "Marcus—"
"I know. I can feel you coming, love. Let go. Give it to me. Share it with me."
Taut and no longer floating, but held by Marcus' hands around her waist, Mariah gasped as the shudders began to flood her sex. She lifted her head a little, not so much worried about slipping beneath the surface, but more anxious to see Marcus this time, to watch—if there was enough moonlight—to share his expressions as she came around him.
His teeth gleamed as his lips curled back into a strained grimace, but he never broke his pace, never pushed to go faster. He was almost inhuman in his focus, his concentration, eyes fixed to where they melded into one.
She wished she could see too, see his cock sliding away from her body, then back between her pussy lips to fill her again. Perhaps next time she would—if there was a next time—
Her body demanded Mariah's attention and her mind blanked as the orgasm swept inexorably onward.
Marcus was with her.
The heat of his desire had been eased a little by their earlier loving, so he was able to take his time and enjoy not just the sensation of Mariah welcoming him into her body, but the soft sounds of the night around them and the unique lap of the water as it rippled across their own private pond.
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