He didn’t want to get the questions out, have to explain what the void was. But he needed to know. “Did he look famished?”
Isabelle swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I understand…”
He inched closer, his heat spreading like a raging fire towards her.
“The one you got a chance to see up close, did he look rabid, like an animal?”
Her body froze. When she opened her mouth, her voice came out shaky. “No, he… he was smooth and calm.”
It was taking all of his strength not to grab her right at that moment. No, not grab her. Pounce on her. Just like a big cat bringing the prey down. He didn’t want to scare her, but he wasn’t sure that he could control himself much longer. Her heart was hammering in her chest and every beat felt like an invitation.
Her whole body was pulsating and so was her mind. As he moved closer, she felt herself slipping from reality, everything around her melting away. Until all that was left were those silver eyes and the heat of his body drifting into hers.
Those eyes. They were silvery black in the darkness of the room. They had been a deep grey the night before, but they seemed to have a light of their own that night. They didn’t look like the eyes of a predator. They looked inviting and… safe. She knew it didn’t make sense but his proximity was the closest thing to safety she had felt in a long time. No looking over her shoulder, not cringing away at the sounds of the night. She clenched her hands, trying to push the feeling away.
“Were you afraid of him?”
Her heart thumped loudly in her eardrums. “I was terrified.”
And then he was so close she could actually feel his breath on her lips. It was causing the electricity of the room to intensify—but it also felt like velvet spilling over her skin. He smelled like the Earth: salt and musk and wood.
His eyes were locked on hers. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No.”
There it was, the real answer. She had been asking herself that exact question since the moment she saw him. Was she afraid of him? Would she be once he got close, once she knew there was nowhere to run? And the truth was that she wasn’t. The king inspired a very different, more powerful emotion in her. Something that completely erased any hint of fear that could have been lurking around. Something that made her forget who he was and who she was and why every hint of desire clutching at her should have felt so wrong.
Even though it felt deliciously right.
The silver in his eyes seemed to spark brighter as one of his hands extended towards her, slightly brushing her cheek before settling on the back of her neck.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she repeated, more to savor the revelation than to reassure him.
And then his mouth reached for hers and her mind went blank.
A soft moan escaped her throat as soon as his lips touched hers. It was a sound of wanting but also of surrender. She wanted this. Her body craved it, but so did something deeper inside of her, something that was waking up with every passing second.
She was expecting a hard invasion, but he didn’t push. Instead, his lips were soft, testing and tasting. The silky caress was so erotic, her whole body turned to liquid, melting into his. More, she needed more. She moaned against his mouth and her lips opened.
And then all of a sudden the gentleness was gone. His tongue darted into her mouth, twining with hers, demanding a response, while his hands ran down her ribs and towards her lower back.
One of his hands reached for her waist, sliding her under him. As he leaned over her, every inch of skin he touched went up in flames, warmth extending inwards and spreading like wildfire. Part of her mind was desperately trying to hold on to reason, reminding her over and over that he wasn’t human.
Except the things he was making her body feel were all very human.
His hand moved under her shirt and her whole body trembled as if hit by an electrical current. His touch was hypnotic. So wrong and yet so right. She arched against him, begging for more.
He growled in response and moved his hand higher, reaching for her breast.
Before his fingers touched her nipple, it had already hardened. When he finally touched her, he let a groan out and pushed harder into her mouth. He sucked on her tongue and she found herself falling deeper into the darkness, into him. Nothing mattered at the moment. Not her mission, not her hate for the monsters. All that mattered was his hands and his tongue dancing with hers. Because nothing she had ever felt, nobody she had ever touched, had felt like this.
Then all of a sudden, he broke the kiss. A moan of complaint left her throat and she reached for his mouth, but he pulled back. She opened her eyes, searching for an explanation—and found his eyes locked on hers, bright silver and deep.
“Marcus,” he groaned, his chest rising up and down rapidly.
She tried to make sense through the fog of desire clogging up her mind. Her head was spinning and it was hard to concentrate on anything but his scent and his heat, dancing over her body.
“What?”
“My name is Marcus. Say it.”
She pushed against him.
“Marcus,” she whispered and the hum of his name on her lips felt like honey.
He growled, the sound rolling over her like thunder. His hands felt feverish against her skin and she could see the transformation happening in him. As the touch became more urgent, he slowly let go of his hold on humanity. His eyes darkened, his fangs came out and the rhythm of his movements became more animal, more dominant. He pressed harder, moved harder, pinching and stroking and kneading until pain started to inch closer.
Hot, delicious pain encircling her body.
She gasped as he pinched her nipple, ripples of pain and pleasure shooting through her. She knew she should feel afraid, but the changes only served to intensify what she was feeling. She wanted more.
Marcus’ eyes met hers. “Still not scared, Belle?”
“No,” she growled, out of breath.
That seemed to be the signal he’d been waiting for, because as soon as she spoke, he reached for the buttons of her shirt. He moved painfully slow, savoring each inch of skin revealed and each of her moans along with it. When her shirt was off, he pulled the bra off in a single move, without even touching the clasp. Then a hint of a smile showed on his face, a small trace of the beast reaching through his eyes and waiting to devour her. Her entire body melted.
She opened her lips to say something, although she wasn’t sure what. Before any words formed, his mouth was back on hers, teasing and nibbling while his hands continued undressing her. The mix of sensations rushing through her veins felt like liquid fire. It was need and hunger and desire all mixed into one.
Whispers slipped in between kisses. “You taste good, Belle.”
He did too. The taste of the forbidden, of raw heat devouring everything in his path. And she wanted more of it.
She opened her hazed eyes and realized his shirt was gone. Her hands instinctively reached for his skin. Black ink curled down one of his sides into an intricate pattern of what seemed like letters. Some ancient symbol she couldn’t understand. As she stretched forward to touch him, she felt drunk, hypnotized—and she knew at once she was lost. Her hand touched the tattoo, then moved over his stomach. The second her fingers landed there, he moaned. He was all stone: hard and chiseled to perfection. Ripples of muscle waved and coiled under her touch. She slid her hands downward towards the waistline of his pants, groaning when she encountered the fabric blocking her.
“Please, I want to touch you,” she said, and her own voice sounded low and hoarse.
He moved away without speaking, stripping off the last remaining items of clothing. As he slid his pants down, Belle’s eyes grew bigger. He was magnificent, all rough and tense, a mix of human perfection and supernatural beast. He was large and more than ready—and a pang of delightful fear pulsed between her legs.
She wanted to be devoured. Consumed. Her eyes moved up and she saw a hint of fangs showing thro
ugh his half-open lips. Her throat seemed to throb in response and he must have noticed it, because he grunted.
Then he leaned down, pressing his body over hers. When his cock pushed against her thigh, her whole body bucked in response, arching against him.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” he groaned against her lips and she wasn’t sure if he meant taste her blood or taste her sex. The idea of either one made her core throb with anticipation.
His mouth trailed over her neck, his fangs grazing the skin and taunting her. The touch was like nothing she had ever felt. Forbidden and lustful and nearly desperate. Her body was on edge, straining to stay in control and slowly losing the battle. He was innately powerful and she felt herself slowly letting go of her defenses, wanting to be taken, held down, possessed. Wanting to feel his power.
When his lower body pushed against her, shifting her thighs further apart, her head lolled back in response.
His mouth closed over her neck, licking and sucking and tasting until she realized he was making her want his bite. Barely aware of the pleading sounds she was making, she moved against him, her hips pushing against his erection.
Before she realized he had moved, his mouth was down on her breast, his teeth nibbling on the nipple gently. A shot of wild pleasure reached in, her body growing tighter and wetter. The pulsing between her legs got stronger, aching for release. She wondered if he could smell her desire, raw and demanding. Almost as if responding to the questions, he sucked on her nipple harder, his tongue dancing and teasing.
Her nails dug into his back in response and he looked up. The darkness of his eyes was deep and exquisite and all she wanted was to get lost in them. Reach into his soul and see what lurked there. What secrets he held, what things he’d seen. Without looking away, he reached down with one hand, trailing down her stomach and towards her thigh.
When his fingers reached between her legs, her breathing froze.
Oh, God, she thought, but the thought dissolved away almost immediately, because then he pushed a finger inside her and a stroke of what felt like lightning shook her body. He pushed in further, adding another finger and then another, rocking his hand against her wetness. Tight, so tight. Every inch of her body was pulsing with arousal.
He moaned along with her as he pressed his fingers inside her. And suddenly his fingers were gone from inside her and his hands were clutching her legs open. He slid down between her legs and her hands curled over the sides of the couch, holding on to whatever edge she could find.
His tongue burned a trail over her abdomen and then up and down her thigh. He stopped right before reaching her sex and she groaned in protest.
When his tongue finally lapped at her, slow and lingering, her mind unraveled. It was absolutely delirious and it melted away any remaining thoughts about who she was, who he was and how wrong this pleasure was supposed to feel. Because it felt exquisite and she had no choice but to let herself be swallowed by the feeling. With each wave of pleasure, her own climax built, growling in her stomach like a wild animal clamoring to break free.
His lips closed over her clit, sucking gently, and she clutched at his shoulders. Pulling and grabbing, asking for more the only way she could. She wanted him inside her, filling her, owning her. Even if she was betraying everything and everybody she loved because of it.
He looked up as if he’d heard her thoughts. “I want to be inside you now,” he said, his voice husky and low. All she could do was nod among the sounds of pleasure escaping her throat.
Sliding back over her body, he steadied himself between her legs. All the nerve endings in her body were pulsing, igniting in urgency. A mix of her heartbeat and his was throbbing in her ears.
The tip of his cock pushed against her and she gasped. He was huge and as he pushed slowly inside her, she felt her muscles stretch around him. The pain was exquisite.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned and pushed an inch deeper.
The slow invasion was driving her insane. She moaned and moved against him, working her hips to make the invasion easier. That seemed to undo his self-control, because he grabbed her ass and with a single, grinding thrust, he rammed into her.
She gasped in both surprise and agony. Her muscles pulsed around his length as he remained still, packed taut inside her, giving her time to get used to his size. She felt full, heavy, possessed.
His face was tight, a look of restraint washing over his features. He was holding back the beast—and she suddenly, desperately want him to let it out.
She moved against him and he growled in response. The pressure in her belly coiled and tightened. Move, please move, she thought.
And then he did. Not in the slow rhythm she was expecting, but in one hard, deep thrust. She arched against him, her neck open and inviting. He rammed into her again as he bent down over her. Blood was roaring in her ears, deafening and hot. When his mouth got closer to her neck, she felt the feverish cadence of her heart concentrating there. Her entire body quivered as he pounded into her once more before his teeth pierced the soft skin of her neck.
There was a brief moment of pain, but as soon as he started to suck, her body exploded into waves of pleasure. The orgasm sent swirling coils of pleasure over her skin and deep into her, her body crumpling in a sea of ecstasy. Her muscles clenched around him and he sucked harder, fire scorching her skin where his mouth was.
Her moan was deep, primitive, and it sent him into a frenzy. He moved his lips away and pumped faster, like a beast searching for release. He pounded harder, feverish. She opened her eyes and through the daze of pleasure, she saw his face transforming. Raw, animal power defining his features. The black in his eyes was deep, as if a storm of darkness was raging in them. His fangs were out, a drop of her blood still coating his lips.
Her eyes lingered on it, mesmerized. He seemed to catch the heavy sight of pleasure in her gaze and bent over to kiss her, the metallic taste of blood mixing with her saliva. A second orgasm rippled through her as his tongue tangled with hers, the wave of pleasure making her gasp for air.
She clanged to him as the waves of the orgasm rippled through her, making her soar higher than she’d thought possible. As her muscles pulsed around his length, he responded by grunting and pounding harder into her body, reaching so deep her insides trembled with the invasion.
She opened her eyes and saw the tightness in his jaw, the fire of his eyes burning deep into hers. She pushed into his hips hard, demanding, holding his pleasure tight and pulling until she thought he couldn’t take it any longer. And then he exploded inside her. He grabbed her ass and pumped into her one more time, grunting as he released, arching his back as a howl of pleasure erupted from his throat.
When his face came down to stare at her, there was a flash of rapture in his eyes. Satisfaction. She wasn’t sure if it was a look of possession or a look of abandonment. Either way, it tore down into her, making her body tingle with something that felt like bliss.
She felt exhausted, sleep washing over her and grabbing her until she felt weak and sluggish. Her limbs were soft, trembling still with the aftershocks of the climax. And as she fell asleep, her mind blissfully softening into the night, she heard him get up and leave the room. Before sleep overtook her, she heard his command to one of the guards.
“Find out who she is.”
Chapter Eight
She woke up slower than usual the next morning. Her body was spent and sluggish, a heaviness washing over her. Part of her also felt warm and comforted, though, and that was somewhat more unsettling considering what had brought it on.
The sounds of the morning were filtering in through the half-open window, slowly lifting her drowsiness. Her mind was a blur of cluttered ideas and trying to make sense of them was almost impossible. She opened her eyes slowly, taking her surroundings in one detail at a time. She was in his room. Alone.
The memories of the previous night rolled over her, like waves crashing against the sand. Each crash brought with it a new flash of sk
in, of pleasure, of fire on fire exploding. She was a traitor. It had taken one touch, one second of his lips on hers to forget everything. Even though she had known from the beginning that sleeping with a vampire was part of the deal, she hadn’t expected to enjoy it. The pleasure had been the greatest treason of all.
She shifted on the bed and her muscles ached. It was the kind of glorious pain that a wild night could bring. Only that in this case, it felt like something more. Her body seemed different. Branded. She reached for her neck and the two puncture wounds there. They were barely noticeable but they were there—like a brand. You’re mine. Marcus’ words looped in her mind, bringing a shiver with them every time she heard them again.
She took a deep breath and sat upright. Her biggest distress wasn’t about the marks on her neck. It was about something deeper. Somehow, her soul felt marked. Last night hadn’t been about passion or sex or blood. It had been about surrendering—and she had done it. Completely and without reservations. And the consequences of that terrified her, because suddenly she was having second thoughts.
Maybe the king wasn’t such a monster.
Maybe she didn’t need to kill him.
Except that there was no other way out. And that realization was paralyzing. He was the king of the monsters. He was also Marcus, the one who had made her body sing the night before. She could feel a war starting between her heart and her mind, so she decided to get up and stop thinking about it for a while. Or at least try.
There was something else nagging at the back of her mind: the word rabid. She’d had little time to think about it last night because Marcus’ kiss had erased everything else from her mind. But now the word was back, sending chills down her spine. Rabid.
She’d never seen any vampire who would fit the description, so she had no idea what Marcus had meant. Up until the day before she had never even come face to face with a vampire. She had seen them exploring the surroundings, hunting for blood—but she had never had the chance to exchange words with one. But even from the distance, they had always looked graceful to her. They had a certain quality to their movements, a touch of regality that humans lacked. A few times she had found herself almost hypnotized by their movements.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9) Page 117