He groaned and trembled as she stroked her hands upwards, over the bulge of his shoulders to his neck, and lightly stroked there, teasing the short hair at the nape before ploughing her fingers through the longer lengths at the back of his head. She pulled him harder against her and stole control of the kiss, something deep inside her driving her to push him to the very edge, to the point where he wouldn’t be able to think, let alone resist her.
Because she needed this.
And no way in hell was she going to give him a chance to back down.
She swore he could read her mind as he plastered one hand to her shoulder and eased her back against the wall, as he dropped his other one to the waist of her jeans and glared at them, his face etched with concentration as he unfastened them. His rough breathing filled the silence, mingling with her own panted exhalations as she focused on what he was doing, as she waited for that first delicious brush of his fingers over her flesh.
He didn’t make her wait long. He shoved her jeans down her legs, dropped to his knees before her and tore off her boots. She kicked her jeans off, as eager as he was as the need spiralling through her coiled in her belly, heating it and making her restless.
Marek lifted his head and stilled.
His eyes blazed in the gloom, on fire with a need she ached to satisfy as his gaze slowly lifted from her hips, drifting over her stomach and her breasts before finally meeting hers.
“Marek,” she murmured, unsure what to say, but needing to say something to let him know she was right there with him, as maddened by lust as he was, on the verge of begging him to do something to ease it.
He shot to his feet so fast she gasped. He swallowed that gasp in a kiss as he cupped her cheeks, backing her against the wall and devouring her. Her hands shook as he dropped his to her hips and skimmed them over her bare skin, his touch feather-light, a stark contrast to the hardness and ferocity of his kiss.
She moaned as he palmed her backside and lifted her, a deeper groan following it as she wrapped her legs around his waist and it finally sunk in that they were going to do this. That itch she’d had for him since they had met was going to be scratched at last.
Part of her wanted to slow things down, wanted to take a moment to explore his body, to do something to make this moment of madness last longer. She couldn’t slow her kiss though, couldn’t stop herself from rocking against his caged erection. The solid steel of it between her thighs as he ground into her only made the fire burn hotter, a blistering inferno that turned all of her control to ashes.
Caterina gripped his shirt, twisting both sides of it into her fists, and pulled it apart, ripping a low moan from Marek as buttons flew everywhere, pinging away into the darkness. She planted her hands against his bare chest, groaned and shuddered as she met firm, hot skin dusted with hair, and found each of his pectorals larger than her hands could cover. Sweet hell.
She rocked against him, faster now as she explored his chest, as she dropped her hands lower to his stomach and the heat pooled and coiled lower in response to the feel of his abdominals beneath her questing fingers. The man had the body of a god.
A warrior.
She shuddered and groaned, grabbed his nape and kissed him harder, wishing it was dawn so she could see his body, could explore it with her eyes as well as her hands.
It was his turn to shudder as she reached his navel and dipped lower, twisting her hand towards him and cupping the bulge confined in his fatigues. He slammed one hand against the wall beside her head and tightened his grip on her hip with his other one, clutching as she stroked him, exploring the rigid length of him.
“Caterina,” he husked and she drifted her hand back up to the waist of his black trousers and tackled the first button.
Marek kissed along her jaw, dropped his lips to her throat and suckled it, licking the sensitive spot behind her ear and sending wave after wave of shivers through her as she freed his cock.
He stilled and shuddered again as her palm finally met bare flesh, as she stroked her hand from blunt tip to his balls.
Velvet on hot steel.
She trembled and ached, moaned as she ran her hand back up the length of him.
Marek gripped the waist of her black panties by her left hip and yanked, ripping a gasp from her as he tore them away. He ripped another from her as he filled her with one hard thrust, plunging to the hilt inside her and slamming her back into the wall. She trembled, quivered as her mind struggled to catch up as a wave of bliss rolled through her, the feel of him stretching and filling her scattering her thoughts, leaving only feeling behind.
He gripped her hips, withdrew and plunged into her again, thrusting deeper as he angled his hips, his pelvis brushing her sensitive bud as her hands flew to his shoulders. She dug her nails into them, desperate to anchor herself as he went to war on her, a battle she felt sure she would lose in only a few strokes as he curled his hips, driving her into the wall with each powerful thrust.
His mouth seized hers again and she lost herself in his kiss, in each wicked thrust of his hips, every meeting of their bodies that sent a wave of bliss through her. She tugged him closer, wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as she rode those waves, as he palmed her backside and quickened his pace.
Even then it felt as if he was holding back.
Was he afraid of hurting her with his strength?
That question scattered on the sea breeze as he deepened their kiss, a wild and desperate edge to it as his lips clashed with hers and their bodies met and parted. She dug her nails into his neck as she finally caught up, and satisfaction washed through her when she rocked her hips, rushing to meet him, and he moaned and shook, his hands trembling where they gripped her.
He hooked her right leg over his arm, did the same with her left one, and dug his fingers into her bottom as he thrust into her.
She cried into his mouth as his body slammed against hers and her release crashed over her, struggled to keep her grip on him as wave after wave of shivers shot down her thighs and up her spine, as she quivered around his cock. He didn’t slow.
He growled and filled her again, the new position allowing him to push deeper, until she could feel every inch of him. She moaned as she gave herself over to him, as the haze of her orgasm began to pass and pleasure built again, the itch for him proving persistent as he thrust into her, moving faster now, his breathless moans filling her ears between kisses.
“Marek.” She turned her head to one side, tipped it back and arched forwards as he thrust deeper still, his hips curling, his hard length hitting her in just the right spot.
He kissed and licked her neck, suckled it so hard she was sure he would leave a bruise as he plunged into her, slamming her spine into the wall. She held his head to her neck, closed her eyes and strained, desperate to reach another high with him.
She tensed around him.
He grunted and slammed into her, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he spilled and his fast breaths bathing her throat.
Caterina moaned as the feel of his climax had her joining him, her core quivering again as a subtler wave of pleasure rolled over her.
She sank against the wall, all of her strength leaving her as she savoured it, as she slowly came down from the rush of it all and awareness gradually returned.
Marek gathered her to him and rested his forehead against her neck, his rapid breathing filling the silence as she held him.
Refusing to regret what she had just done.
The post-battle high hadn’t been responsible for this moment of madness.
She could see that now.
It had just been the perfect excuse.
She wanted Marek.
She wanted him in a way she had never wanted anyone before.
In a way that heated her blood to a thousand degrees, but chilled her at the same time.
Because she had never been in love before.
And she had the feeling she was going to fall hard for Marek.
And that was
more frightening than facing a hundred vampires.
Because she wasn’t sure she would survive this.
He would find out about her brother.
And then he would break her heart.
Chapter 10
Marek lifted the cool glass of juice to his lips and took a sip as his gaze scanned the screen of the laptop opened in front of him. He swept his right index finger over the touchpad, scrolling through the document. It had taken him months to transcribe every hand-written report he had stored in the basement of his villa, centuries of documents filed by his brothers, detailing every daemon they had come across and any unusual gate activity they had noticed.
It had been worth it.
Now, he had all that information at his fingertips, although it did take some searching and he couldn’t begin to calculate how many hours he had spent in his office or on this recliner under one of the larger trees that were spotted around the main garden of his home in the hills.
There were two servers dedicated to patrol reports alone. Another where he stored information on every daemon they had ever encountered. And he had started a fourth recently.
That one held all the information they were gathering on their enemy.
Marek closed the file as he reached the end of it and opened another, scanning it for any mention of a time the gates had called his brothers and it had turned out there hadn’t been a Hellspawn or higher present.
So far, he had only uncovered one incident, over a century ago. The Hong Kong gate had called Daimon to open it but when he had gotten there, only daemons had been present. Marek switched to that document and read it again. Daimon had disposed of the daemons, but had noted that two had been shapeshifters and there had been one from the demonic breed.
He pulled up the more recent report from Valen, one his brother had belatedly filed yesterday, recounting all the details he could remember about what had happened at the gate in Rome.
There had been a shapeshifter and a demonic male then as well, together with daemons Valen had labelled as ‘bloodsuckers’. Not vampires, because his brother would be able to recognise their scent.
If they had been rogue vampires, it would have easily explained things. As a recognised breed of Hellspawn, vampires were allowed to pass through the gates, if Hades granted it.
Was it possible one of them had been a mixed breed, part vampire and part something else, with enough Hellspawn blood to be allowed entrance to the Underworld?
Marek almost laughed as he immediately discounted that.
His father wouldn’t allow a mixed breed into the Underworld. Purebred vampires only. Even turned vampires had to age to at least a century and prove their lineage and loyalty before Hades considered allowing them access to his realm.
He closed the two reports and kept scanning, humming as he sifted through another ten documents, taking the odd break to rest his eyes and sip his drink. The day was wearing on, the second that had passed since he had last seen Caterina.
His focus wavered as she filled his mind, as the taste of her and the way she had felt in his arms tugged at him, flooding him with a need to see her again. He should have asked for her number, shouldn’t have let her leave with only a promise that he would see her again. She had been distant when she had parted from him, asking him to meet her again in three nights.
When he had pressed her to tell him why he couldn’t meet her the next night, she had clammed up and said that she had something she had to do.
What did she need to do that took three nights?
Marek had pondered that question far too much during their time apart. It kept intruding, demanding an answer and distracting him from his work.
Which set him on edge.
If his brothers saw him like this, unable to focus on his research, they would immediately know something was wrong. The last thing he needed was his brothers probing into his life, and not only because it might lead to them discovering his penchant for killing vampires.
He growled and clenched his teeth as he thought about Caterina.
About his brothers wanting to know about her.
Demanding to meet her.
Caterina was his, and he would keep her that way. He wouldn’t let his brothers near her. If they didn’t drive her away with their overbearing protectiveness, they might make a play for her.
She was beautiful.
Gods, she was beautiful.
One of them was bound to want her as their own.
They couldn’t have her.
His mood took a dark turn and he glared at the screen of his laptop as his fangs emerged, the black need to protect Caterina and keep her at his side, his alone, flooding him with a terrible urge to fight.
Not vampires.
Not daemons.
He wanted to fight his brothers.
The heat of summer suddenly gave way to icy cold that lasted only a heartbeat.
That heartbeat of time was enough for him to react, to fix his gaze on the one who had created it and snarl at her.
Enyo arched a fine black eyebrow at him. “Someone is in a mood.”
“Someone doesn’t need this shit,” he snapped and set his laptop aside as he sat up on the wooden recliner. “Go bother someone else.”
Her jade green eyes brightened, the black that ringed them seeming to grow thicker as she glared at him.
Normally, he took the hint and backed down, not wanting to provoke her into killing him by being rude to her, but this time, he was more worried about Keras killing him because she had visited him.
“Leave, Enyo.” He shoved to his bare feet, slipped them into his sandals and stormed towards the white-washed villa.
She stepped into his path and stared him down as he halted, her six-foot frame bringing her level in height to him as she stood on the edge of the terracotta patio near the door, slightly up the slope from him.
The light breeze stirred the tips of her sleek black hair as she held his gaze, brushing it away from the right side of her face.
“I have information. I thought you were the one who dealt with such things.”
Trying to sweeten him up? He wasn’t the only one who liked to get their hands dirty with research, happy to spend hours glued to a chair poring over every tiny detail in the hunt for the one clue that would give them a lead they could work on. All this to eliminate their enemy and fulfil their duty.
Keras enjoyed it as much as he did.
Marek debated mentioning that to provoke a reaction from the goddess of war, and then thought the better of it.
He looked her over, from the thick black cloak that hung from her shoulders, to the silver and black chest piece, and the short black strips of leather that passed as a skirt, to her knee-high black leather boots and the silver filigree that decorated them.
She had come armed for war again, right down to the black and silver vambraces that protected her forearms.
The only thing that was missing was her sword.
But then the war she was armed for wasn’t a physical one. It was an emotional battle, and she wrapped herself in the trappings of her duty in order to avoid waging it.
In order to protect herself.
Her green gaze flicked beyond him, to the recliners positioned beneath the tree. “You should stop sleeping in the sunshine, Marek.”
He frowned at her. If she wasn’t going to play nice, then he wouldn’t either.
“Go and talk to another brother. Try Keras. He is our leader. All information you have, you can pass it to him.”
The air chilled and the sky darkened, clouds forming above the villa to blot out the blue.
He was pushing his luck.
“Perhaps I should pass on information about what I witnessed in my last visit to you,” she snapped.
He growled at her as an image of her sitting atop a stack of crates, surveying the aftermath of a battle he had waged against vampires, flashed across his eyes and his blood ran cold. “You would not dare.”
At least
he hoped she wouldn’t. He had never figured her for a fan of blackmail, but clearly she was determined to get her way and avoid Keras, and she didn’t care if she had to trample Marek emotionally in order to get it.
“You tell any of my brothers what you saw, and you will regret it.” Marek squared up to her. He wouldn’t win in a fight against her, mostly because he would pull his punches so Keras didn’t kill him, but he wasn’t going to sit back and let her threaten him.
“What about if I tell your father?”
He stepped back, bracing himself as that verbal blow hit him, and clenched his fists as the momentary shock passed and regret flared in her eyes.
“I would not,” she said before he could find his voice. She looked away from him, down the sloping garden towards the valley basin, and wrapped her right hand around her left biceps. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Let me relay the information to you, Marek.”
Seeing such a powerful goddess, one who had been all smiles and laughter once, looking on the verge of tears had him relenting and easing back another step. He sighed and turned away from her, sat his arse back down on the recliner and waited.
“Fine, but if I get killed, it’s your fault. I want you to know that.” He reached around and grabbed his laptop, balanced it on his knees and opened a new document.
He was going to capture this information verbatim and file it to his brothers via email. It seemed safer than meeting Keras in person to hand it over to him.
He might be able to avoid the worst of the fallout.
“Ares, my brother, sent me this time.” Her hand fell from her arm and she slowly recovered, straightening as the seconds passed, her eyes gaining that confident edge that had always been there whenever they had met in the Underworld.
Before Keras had been sent away to the mortal realm with the rest of them.
She twisted the braided length of hair that hung from her left temple, twining it around her fingers as she frowned. “The feeling returned. It is stronger this time, and there are rumours that others on Olympus are experiencing it too.”
Marek: Guardians of Hades Series Book 4 Page 10