by Jessica Lee
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He lifted his chin, beckoning her.
Like a magnet to its perfect polar opposite, her gaze collided with the thick rope of an artery running the length of his neck. His pulse lifted the flesh there, and inside her head, the beating of his heart resounded like a jungle drum, taunting her. Calling her.
“Come on, Vixen. Fast and hard,” he coaxed. “Take it.”
Her gums tingled with the lengthening of her fangs. Maybe she would take him up on the offer. After all, wasn’t his throat the least he could offer? Her fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into the soft tissue inside. “Payback’s a bitch, you know,” she said, her mouth watering.
“From you, darling,” he said, and there was no way she could miss the sound of the smile in his voice, “I expect nothing less.”
She struck.
Sure, deep, and without mercy, her fangs sank into his artery. His breath hitched. And with her first hard draw on his flesh, he groaned.
Alex gulped, and her taste buds sparked. Reflex had her swallowing again. And again. Her skin heated, burned. Except the scorching sensation in no way resembled pain. God, no. She was alive.
Every pore.
Every nerve ending radiating out from her spine had awakened.
She’d sipped from countless, nameless humans since she’d become a vampire, yet none of the feedings had ever ravaged her control. It was as if her cells recognized his, and a switch had been flipped.
Mine.
Her sex pulsed with hungry need. Arousal rushed from her, swelling her folds. She moaned, arching her hips into his.
“Damn,” Markus bit out, pulling her tighter into his embrace.
Yes. This wasn’t like her, but dear God, at that moment, she didn’t care.
She spread her legs, needing something. Anything. Markus’s leather-clad thigh slid between hers. Perfect. Straddling his firm leg, Alex rocked onto the thick muscle. The pressure. God, the pressure was so damn good. She gasped against his skin, her head a dizzying rush of desire.
“Vixen…Fuck.” Markus dug his fingertips into her back. “Use me,” he murmured. He thrust higher, harder, working himself against her pussy. And nothing had ever felt so divine in her life. “Whatever you need.”
Scoring his scalp with her nails, Alex rode the hard presence between her thighs. She lapped at his skin, and the taste of his flesh, his essence, transported her to a hot summer night with the tide swirling around her ankles. Exotic, sweet, and sultry. Her pulse hammered inside her head, drowning out all reason, all conscious thought. She was lost to her body’s demands.
A whimper left her throat, and as if Markus understood exactly what she needed, he pulsed his leg back and forth. The new angle and movement pressed into the apex of her sex with divine precision. Pleasure swirled like a growing vortex within the swollen bundle of nerves between her legs. More. Alex twisted her fingers in his hair and pumped her hips.
“Let go, baby,” he whispered. “It’s yours.”
She groaned. God, how she wanted it.
“Take it, dammit,” he rasped.
Suddenly, as if the pressure had grown too high for her to bear, the bubble exploded on her pleasure. Her head fell back, bumping the wood behind her. The muscles in her arms and legs tensed, and her spine arched. Rapture tore through her on a blinding tidal wave of sheer ecstasy. Her body quaked. The world around her shimmered, vanished, leaving only the man whose arms circled her and held her to earth as bliss pulsed through her core.
“That’s it, baby,” as if from a distance, Markus whispered, stroking her back.
Too soon her tremors calmed, and the euphoria of her orgasm waned. Markus loosened his hold on her and eased his leg back. But keeping his body next to hers, he didn’t let go. Thank God, because at that moment, she wasn’t sure she possessed the ability to stand on her own two feet. Threading his fingers through her hair, he cradled her head. Her arms dropped to her sides, the strength in her limbs depleted. Alex dragged her eyelids open, and his hooded stare slammed into hers. Lust, fiery hot, swirled in his gray eyes. His mouth hovered mere inches from hers, his breathing ragged.
And the reality of what had happened hit her like a roundhouse kick to the gut.
Markus had let her use him. Worse yet, she’d taken what he’d offered. All of it. And he’d given her the best—the first—orgasm she’d ever had.
Damn him.
She reeled, torn between the near irresistible urge to kiss him or to punch the snot out of him. Swallowing hard, she forced the growing knot of desperation down into the pit of her stomach.
A deep rumble vibrated off him as his body went rigid, pressing the hard length of his cock against her. Alex’s spine stiffened. Oh God. Lifting her chin, she fisted her hands in anticipation of his next action. No way would she get away with what she’d done without the male demanding something in exchange. Because history had taught her well: nothing good came without a price.
“Are you okay?” His words came out hoarse, strangled. Yet that wasn’t the most unusual thing about his question. Asking her about her health at that moment had been the last thing she’d expected.
“Excuse me?” she croaked.
A roughened palm stroked her cheek, and it was all she could do not to lean into the caress. But she’d already allowed her guard to fall further than she’d ever anticipated.
“If I let go, are you okay to stand?”
“Oh…” She glanced down at where his body was still connected with hers, helping to hold her upright. Oh, shit. Neither of them had moved since…since. Yeah. Alex planted her palms against his pecs, cleared her throat, and nodded.
“Good,” he muttered under his breath. Untangling his fingers from her hair, Markus took a couple of steps back.
Her bath sheet slipped, but she managed to snag it and tighten the material around her before she lost any more of her dignity. Pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, she inhaled deeply, gathering her courage to face him. What would he expect from her now? He was an aroused male with needs. Of that there was no question. She’d felt the very large evidence of it pressed into her.
How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? Had he…satisfied those particular cravings since he’d been freed? A flash of uneasiness she refused to define roiled inside her gut at the thought of him with another, thrusting, straining for his peak until he roared with the ferocity of his release. Her heart clenched at the visual image. A familiar click sounded in the room, and she jerked her head up. Blinking, she scanned the space around her. A clawing blow of emptiness struck behind her breastbone, taking her by surprise.
Once again, not what she’d expected from him, or from herself.
Markus was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Markus slammed the door to his room and kept moving. He couldn’t stop and think or his head would explode. His heart raced, and his chest heaved with every breath. Slapping a palm over the residual wound left behind by Alex on his neck, he rubbed across the bruised flesh.
“Stupid,” he chided himself, pacing between his walls. He was a fucking idiot. Behind the confined space of his zipper, his cock throbbed with each step. With a death lock on his molars, he drew to a halt and snatched the straight-backed chair from in front of his desk. Roaring, he swung hard, tossing it across the room. The chair crashed into the wall with a loud bang, shattering the wood. Broken pieces scattered across the floor, never to be put back together again. A lot like his life.
Walking away from Alexandria had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. He choked on a laugh. “Hobbling” away was a better word, since making a quick exit when his cock had felt like a brick between his legs had been no easy task. But he’d had no choice. For him, or for Alexandria.
If he’d remained in her room one second longer with the scent of her orgasm thick in the air, clinging to the insides of his nostrils, his control would have snapped. And she deserved better than what he had to offer:
a mate with a soul so tarnished and frayed that he’d lost his grip on his ethical compass. A mate? He choked back a laugh. Since when had he begun to entertain the idea of her in a more permanent role in his life? Mere days ago he had lain wasting away in a cell. The only reason he’d worked so damn hard to convince Kenric he’d turned over a new leaf was to keep her safe, not bond with her for an eternity. An unfamiliar sensation, yet one not at all unpleasant, surged through his veins at the thought of waking with her in his arms each night for the next century and beyond. What the hell?
Reaching low, he shoved the heel of his hand against the swollen length of his erection, willing the arousal to let him go. He grunted. “Shit!”
Squeezing his eyelids shut, he tried his best to force the memory of her into the dark recesses of his mind. Alexandria with her head thrown back against the wall, shuddering in ecstasy. But he succeeded in only burning the image into his neurons. He slapped his palms on the window frame in front of him and his forehead tapped the warm glass. His cock pulsed, demanding attention. Beads of sweat popped from his pores, and a cool, thin trail ran down his temple.
On a groan, he relented and pushed away. Treading across the threshold to his bathroom, he reached for his zipper, tugged on the metal, and opened his fly. His erection sprang free, the head wet with pre-cum. The sound of his pulse was a mantra to the need for release strumming inside his veins.
How long could he go on like this? Every evening after rising, he inhaled the sweet traces of vanilla and honey lingering in the hallway. The scent confirmed Alexandria had recently passed down the same path. She was so damn close, yet forever out of his reach. But he’d have to learn to deal, for as long as he had to. His discomfort was a small price to pay as long as she remained safe.
Over the last several weeks, though, his palm and his dick had become quite the BFFs.
Having to jack off on a regular basis to ease the ache was a situation the old Markus would never have tolerated. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. When he required a female, finding one to satisfy his needs had never been an issue. There had always been an ample number willing to bend over and give him a warm, soft place to relieve his itch. Yet whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t bring himself to seek out another. There was only one, who with a single look had captured his heart and made him fantasize about all the ways he wanted her. Against the wall. Beneath him. Straddling his hips, with her hair fanned out behind her as she screamed his name.
He curled his fingers around the hypersensitive flesh between his legs, and his breath hitched from the contact. Grasping for the counter with his free hand, he steadied himself. “Motherfucker,” he gritted out.
During those months when he’d been secured inside his cell beneath the mansion, he’d kept her memory locked down. If he didn’t see her, smell her, he could forget her.
Almost.
At least that was what he’d tried to convince himself.
Sliding his palm over the slick head of his shaft, Markus groaned from the sensation. His eyelids shuttered. Dammit. He’d never be able to forget. Not now. Not after the way she’d straddled his thigh, her hot pussy nearly searing the leather between them. She’d ridden him until her release had detonated like a round of TNT, coming close to destroying his control in its wake.
He stroked down his cock, and his rod bucked against his hand. Grinding his molars, he spiraled his palm back up the length. His balls tightened, the cum inside a flood ready to rupture the dam holding it back. Goddammit, this wasn’t going to take long.
Once. Twice more, he pumped his straining shaft when the lid suddenly erupted on his orgasm.
“Fuucck!” Markus’s fist jerked beneath the sensitized head as jet after jet of cum hit the granite in a violent spray of pleasure.
Growling, he worked the last drop of his orgasm from his shaft and uncurled his fingers.
Moments later, his head still buzzed as he cleaned up the evidence of his release, washed his hands, and prepared to head downstairs. He’d never be ready to stand there like a helpless spectator as Alexandria left for her first patrol, but at least he’d be calmer. Good thing, since when he’d heard that Kenric had agreed to allow her to accompany Eve and Guerin, he’d wanted the master’s head.
But he had to play it cool, sit back, and be all fucking agreeable if the Enclave’s commander was ever going to sever his leash.
However, not being an active member of the team didn’t mean he wasn’t going to stay within earshot of Elle while Alexandria was out there. If there was trouble, one of the three would call in for backup. He’d gotten the vixen to feed before she’d left. Renewed their connection. If she needed him, he’d find her. With or without the Enclave’s help or permission.
Downstairs, he strode toward the kitchen. Alexandria’s voice reached his ears before he crossed the threshold. He braced a shoulder against the archway and listened.
“So you and Guerin usually handle Monday, Wednesday, and Friday while Kenric and Arran take Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday night,” she said.
“That’s right,” Guerin chimed in. “We rotate as to who works Sunday. After a while, or if something comes up, we’ll switch. Just for some variety.”
Business as usual. At least she sounded okay. Not that he’d expect any different. Alexandria was too strong-willed. Eve and Guerin would never suspect a thing, unless she wanted them to know.
Markus pushed away from the wall and proceeded into the room. Conversation around the table ceased. His boots thumped off the wood as he made his way over to the coffeepot. He didn’t have to look up from his cup to know Alexandria’s gaze tracked him.
“Please don’t let me stop whatever it is you’re discussing.” Markus placed the carafe back in its place and looked up. Guerin, Eve, and Alexandria were seated around the table. Whom he hadn’t picked up on was Christian kicking it at the far end. Nursing a mug of the dark brew in his hand, the redhead was leaning back in his chair, ignoring the others, as if he were right at home.
At that moment, the rest of the big happy family filed into the room. Arran headed straight for the coffee. A lot had changed since Markus had jumped ship for Marguerite’s madness, but apparently, the blond warrior’s fondness for the roasted bean hadn’t.
Kenric and Emily closed in on the dining table. The commander’s arm circled Emily’s waist, keeping her close, silently declaring the female his. They came to a stop near Guerin and Eve as Markus eased onto one of the barstools at the island.
Close.
But not too…in their face.
What the hell. He could play the part of the considerate guy when need be.
It was easier this way, for everyone, if he didn’t grab one of the chairs and slide up to the wood, pretending as if they wanted him there. He wasn’t a damn fool. Arran barely tolerated his presence. And Guerin. Well… Markus glanced over at the Enclave’s second-in-command. As usual, whenever he and Guerin were in the same room, the male kept Markus in his sights. As if at any minute Markus would draw his blade and slit someone’s throat. Fuck him. Did he look that damn close to the edge?
Lowering his mug to the bar, his mind wandered back to when he had lain in his cell waiting for his next breath to finally stall in his lungs. Maybe Guerin wasn’t that far off the mark? But the members of the Enclave weren’t the ones in his sights.
Markus brought the brew to his lips once more, his focus landing on their newest roomie. Kicked back in his chair and dressed in what looked like a new leather jacket and jeans, Christian sipped from his cup. The new vamp’s attention wagged between the window and conversation at the other end of the table about their agenda for the night’s patrol. Markus bit back a laugh. The male was trying too hard to pretend he wasn’t absorbing every detail. He was about as subtle as a foghorn.
Markus didn’t give a flying fuck that Kenric and Elle were all warm and cozy with the newbie parking his shit with the Enclave. He didn’t trust the bastard. The redhead’s previous location had been
up Enrique’s ass—or vice versa. That alone was reason enough to not like the prick. Trusting him around Alexandria and the rest of the Enclave? Well, that was a completely different game. Christian would need to show him more than dirty clothes, fangs, and a sob story before he was a player on that team.
In the meantime, until Christian exposed his hand, Markus would have to settle for watching and waiting. And unfortunately for their guest, neither was his strong suit.
Breathing in the warm steam off his coffee, Markus allowed his attention to drift toward the brunette on the far side of the table. Alexandria had dressed in the typical DEAD hunting gear of all leather. And damn if the female didn’t look as if she’d been born to wear the rawhide. She wore a form-fitting black jacket with a silver zipper that rose diagonally across her chest and held her full breasts snugly in place. The collar flipped upward around the delicate flare of her throat, bringing attention to her porcelain skin and high cheekbones. He couldn’t see from his angle, but he was sure the leather encasing her legs included a set of daggers strapped to each thigh.
His perusal roamed upward to where she’d secured her long dark tresses behind her head. Perhaps it was his imagination, but her cheeks appeared a shade pinker, her violet eyes even more radiant. Behind his mug, a grin spread on his mouth. She’d never admit he was partly responsible for her healthy glow. And despite its recent release, damn if his cock didn’t twitch at the memory.
“Tonight’s your big night, Alex,” Kenric said from his position behind Eve’s chair. “Are you ready?”
Alex looked up, her gaze brushing Markus first before settling on Kenric. “More than you can imagine.”
Her words rang through him like the striking of a bell on round one of a prizefight. But Markus didn’t like the damn odds.
“Christian,” the Enclave’s master called out, and the male’s head popped up. “Have you thought about what you’d like to do now that you’ve had some time to adjust to your new life?”
“Uhm…” The new guy rubbed a palm over his lingering shadow of a beard, then shrugged. “I’m not sure. Why? You need me out of here?”