by Nicole Grane
“I’ll catch you,” he breathed into my neck. His mouth found mine again, kissing my lips over and over, drawing me deeper into his spell. “I want to spend the rest of time loving you Phoebe.” His eyes were smoldering.
As if I wanted to, or could, say no. Marcus had rendered me incapable of sorting out the simplest of thoughts. I wanted him desperately. I could feel my body going limp in his arms. I kissed his lower lip, biting it a little. He groaned as if he was in pain—the look in his eyes suggested it was pure pleasure.
I suddenly felt myself being carried through the air. We were flying. His mouth never left mine. I hadn’t realized where he’d taken me until I felt the familiar surroundings of my bed beneath me. He leaned over my body, still panting from our kiss, his eyes, red with desire.
“You’re sure I’m the one you want? You seem to have quite a line forming of eligible men,” he asked in a husky voice.
Oh yes. I was sure. My hands moved down his chest. I watched his eyes as they stared into mine, awaiting my answer. I lifted his shirt up, and he let me take it over his head. I grinned. “You are the only man I want.” I removed my own shirt in one swift motion.
He stared wantonly at me, wetting his lips slightly with the tip of his tongue. I pulled him down on me. His skin on mine felt silky, soft and cool.
“You’re sure you want me?” I asked reluctantly. My hands roamed freely over his God-like body. “There must be some vampire girl out there who would be less trouble than I am?”
“There is no one, but you,” he proclaimed. His face had grown thoughtful. “You’re really quite lovely you know. You’re more beautiful than I remembered.” He rested his cheek over my heart, listening to its beat. I breathed heavily at the intimacy of it.
“What are you thinking?” I ran my fingers slowly through his hair, combing it back gently.
“I was just thinking of another time: A time when we loved each other so freely, when I didn’t have to worry about harming you.”
“You won’t hurt me,” I said without hesitation. “You’d never hurt me.” I pulled his face up to mine, my eyes locking with his, “I trust you.” He could hear the resolve in my voice. “I trust you.”
Marcus sighed heavily, and although his eyes were full of worry, he put his arm under my waist and pulled my body to his.
I hadn’t expected the overwhelming emotions that filled me. Our bodies moved seamlessly together. It was as if we’d never been apart—we knew each other that well.
By the look on Marcus's face, he was thinking the very same—he grinned, taking my lips once again and claiming a kiss reserved only for him.
I was lost in the time that passed, the soft whispers of love he proclaimed to me, and the countless visions of Marcus and I making love flooded my mind and heated the passion I felt for him. My heart was complete in a way I hadn’t dreamed possible. I felt love beyond imagination, and peace engulfed me. Marcus was my soul mate: my love for all time.
His hands gripped my shoulders tightly. I was torn between the pain in my arms and the overwhelming pleasure that moved through me. He pressed his mouth hard against my neck, making an almost inaudible hiss.
My eyes opened wide. The pain was unbearable. “Marcus . . . you’re hurting me.” I tried to push him off—he didn’t budge.
“Phoebe.” His voice was gruff, not his own.
I was afraid to move. Understanding claimed me. He wanted my blood. “Marcus, please!”
With what looked to be great effort, he lifted his head up. His eyes were deep red—a shade that put the ruby he’d given me, to shame.
“Please don’t do this.” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Phoebe I . . .” his eyes dropped, to the death grip he had on my arms. He released me immediately. I could feel the blood rushing back through my veins.
I breathed heavily, a tear leaking out the corner of my eye. “I’m fine!” My voice cracked. I was saying it for his benefit as much as my own.
I could see the devastation on his face. He turned his head away from me. “I’m sorry.”
I subtly began rubbing the life back into my arms. I knew he hadn’t meant to hurt me. Marcus and I physically were a dangerous combination—I understood that now. It took every ounce of his strength not to bite me. In the height of his pleasure, he denied himself the one thing he wanted . . . blood.
Our hearts desired each other’s love, while our instincts tore us apart. I couldn’t let him torture himself. He did after all maintain control. I could be dead now.
“Not all of it was painful,” I said playfully as I tickled my fingers down his chest and stomach, earning me a small smile.
His eyes were still smoldering. I knew he still wanted my blood, but the guilt he felt outweighed the desire that was slowly subsiding.
“Are you . . . all right . . . otherwise?” he asked nervously, his eyes still drifting to my arms. I hugged myself, trying to conceal the subtle shivering that ran through me.
“I’m wonderful! I had no idea how passionate vampires were. Had I only known . . .” I teased, than quickly hid my face in his chest; I knew the disapproving look that would be coming my way.
He put his arms around me. Despite the fear I’d felt moments ago, I felt safe with him. I wanted him to hold me forever.
“Are you alright? I mean, are you happy?” I snuck a peek at him. He looked at me like I’d just asked the most insane question imaginable.
“Well I don’t know,” I said defensively. “Maybe it’s different for vampires. Maybe I’m not—”
He put his hand over my mouth silencing me. “You’re perfect.”
“Are you sure?” I wrinkled my nose a little.
“You’re all I’ve ever needed,” he half laughed as he tussled my hair playfully.
I smiled to myself, basking in the after-glow. I had Marcus in every way now. He loved me, and more importantly he’d forgiven me. Life couldn’t be more perfect. I lay there on his chest savoring the moment . . .
“Phoebe, I don’t wish to spoil the mood, but I must ask . . . ”
I looked up into his glorious face. “Anything,” I smiled brightly.
“Well, it’s just that in our haste, we . . .” his eyes were downcast. “Of course things are different now. I’ve never been with any other woman, and we never . . .
“You haven’t made love to anyone in over seven hundred years?” I nearly shot out of the bed.
“That’s not the point of this conversation,” Marcus stated. He truly was embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, putting my hand over my mouth. I forced a look of concentration back on my face—trying to suppress a smile that would soon break free. “No one! Not once?” I blurted out in disbelief.
“NO!” he shouted. “I died with you.”
“Yeah, but I thought vampires flew into unsuspecting women’s rooms, made love to them, and then—”
“I’ve never taken a woman against her will!” He looked appalled at the suggestion.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to insult you, I was just teasing . . . sort of,” I admitted honestly. The truth was, all those old monster movies I’d watched growing up now suddenly seemed to be documentaries. I truly did expect to see Frankenstein before summer’s end.
His eyes caught mine—there was no play in them. “There has never been another for me.”
“Or for me,” I offered with a grin. My lips took his by surprise. I twined my fingers through the back of his hair. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster against his chest. He groaned, almost sounding frustrated.
“This is reckless,” he moved his hand up my thigh and hooked my leg around him, pulling my body back to his.
“Everything about today has been reckless.”
“Phoebe I . . .”
“Shhh!” I stopped his mouth with a kiss.
I was in absolute heaven. He was much more aware this time, being extra careful not to hold me too tightly. Not to let his lips linger too long against my t
hroat. I held him as long as I could, never wanting him to let go.
The sun that had once lit my room, now cast a soft orange glow across the balcony; it was late afternoon.
We lay in each other’s arms, completely at peace. That is until my stomach growled.
“Sorry,” I blushed. “I haven’t had anything to eat today. I think I’ll head down to the kitchen and see if Charlotte has anything.”
He caught my hand as I moved to get up. A strange look of embarrassment once again overtook him.
“Marcus, what is it? Are you all right? Did I do something wrong?”
He took my hands and held them together, placing them on his chest. “No, my love, you haven’t done anything wrong, and I am very well.” He smiled peacefully.
“What is it then?” I stared at him, confused as ever.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I know you haven’t been with another man, but have you by any chance considered . . .?” He looked up at the ceiling.
“Marcus, is it that bad that you can’t just come out and say it?” I was beyond frustrated and starting to feel self-conscious.
“It’s completely improper for me to ask. We never worried about it in our time.”
“Worried about what?”
“When people made love, they accepted the life that might come from it.” His eyes met mine; they were full of hope.
I stared at him incredulously. “What are you—” I stopped. I could feel all color draining from my face. My mouth popped open. I jumped out of the bed, taking the top blanket with me.
“You have to be kidding me! You said you had to be half human!” I nearly shouted.
“I said you had to be half human . . . and you are.”
“No, no . . .” I tried to do the math. One hundred percent human Phoebe- bit by werewolf equals . . . I’m not a werewolf . . . at least not completely . . . I don’t know what it equals actually—a quarter? I let out a frustrated groan.
He watched me pace back and forth as I went over the obvious once again.
“I’m guessing by your reaction, you haven’t planned for this?”
“No! Why would I? I thought the werewolf bite would have thrown off my ratio.”
He nodded. “It will be alright. We’ll just have to be careful if that’s something we wish to avoid at this time—if we can avoid it now?” he added under his breath. The look on his face wasn’t promising.
“I can’t believe this. Why didn’t you say something before?” I stared at him in disbelief. I felt a small flame light within me—I envisioned myself physically injuring him in several appropriate ways. All of which would have failed. The odds of me successfully harming Marcus were zero at best. Still . . . the thought was appealing.
He closed his eyes, avoiding my death like stare. “I’m not certain, but the likelihood you’re more human than werewolf appears to be high. The probability you could conceive . . . ” he didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.
I growled mentally as I walked over to the window and looked out at the orange sky. I couldn’t deny that I’d been a more than willing participant—twice! I’d taken health classes. I was a big girl! The blame was just as much mine as it was his. Like he said, this wasn’t anything we would have worried about in the past. Why would he worry about it now?
“Phoebe, I’m sorry.” Marcus stood behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. “If it makes you feel any better, Phoebe and I were together nine years before she apparently conceived.”
I sighed. Nine years . . . that did make me feel better. My life was so unsettled, and the thought of having a child now . . . was too much.
“Marcus, I want to learn how to sword fight again.”
He froze, his arms stiffening around me. “Absolutely not.”
“What? Why?” I demanded, spinning around to look at him. “You can’t expect me to live here and not be able to protect myself!”
“I won’t have you running around slaying werewolves. It’s too dangerous.”
“I won’t! But wouldn’t you rather I could defend myself if I had to? Or would you prefer I’m ripped to shreds like before?”
He grimaced.
“Besides, Richard and Raymose have already offered to teach me. With the both of them, I should be pretty good, maybe even useful.”
Marcus looked beyond murderous. “They went behind my back!” he spat, enunciating each word with as much venom as the next.
“No! I sort of . . . cornered Richard,” I admitted quietly. “Raymose offered to train me after he witnessed my skills today . . . or lack of.” I frowned at the insult.
“No,” Marcus said as if the conversation was officially over.
“Marcus. This isn’t your decision. I’d like you to support me, but I don’t need your permission.” I spoke defiantly.
“Yes you do.” His words were absolute. “This is a different world Phoebe, a world you’re not used to.” He reached out and took my bandaged hand and held it up for affect. “This is sword’s play compared to what can happen during battle.”
“I’m not going to battle. I just want to be able to defend myself!”
“I’ll protect you,” he said fiercely.
“Every minute of every day?” I protested. “No. Either you agree, or I’m leaving. Tonight,” I shrugged away from him.
His expression was hard. He was not going to bend on this.
“Fine,” I stomped off toward the bathroom, not giving him a second look. “Will you please tell Richard I need a ride to the airport?”
Marcus caught me from behind. He had his arms around my waist, and despite my attempts to struggle out of his grasp, he held me, firmly, until I stilled. “I can’t let you go.” He sighed. I could hear the defeat in his voice. His hand moved across my stomach and paused. “Please be careful.”
I turned and hugged him excitedly.
“I mean it, Phoebe. You’re human this time. If you get cut . . . Raymose—”
“Will take good care of me,” I interrupted. “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“Right.” His voice was condescending. Asking Marcus to not worry about me was like asking the sun not to rise the next day.
“I do need to see a doctor though,” I admitted.
“Why?” Marcus looked uneasy again.
“Because I want some form of birth control. I’m not going to worry about this every time we decide to be hasty.” I couldn’t help but blush.
“I’ll have someone here before dinner.” He smiled slightly, his mind obviously in sync with mine.
“A house call? I am impressed.”
He gave me a wry smile. “I’ll leave you to your shower.”
Chapter 26: Sword Play
Richard was waiting for me on the balcony when I stepped out of the bathroom.
“Richard?”
“I believe you should have warned me, Miss, that you told Lord Ashworth I’d offered to assist you with your lessons.” He looked livid.
“Richard, I’m sorry. Marcus wanted me to stay, and I wouldn’t unless he agreed to let me learn how to protect myself. It just sort of slipped out that you offered to help.”
“Well, it’s put me in a rather awkward spot, I must say.” He looked away, trying to keep up the façade of being angry.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” I nudged him gently on the arm.
His mouth curled up on one side a little. “Very well Miss, we shall start first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you Richard.”
“Mr. Raymose is in the garden waiting to speak with you as well,” Richard informed me sternly. “It would seem you’ve put both of us in a rather awkward position.”
I had to look as confused as I was.
“If you should fail, Miss, Lord Ashworth will blame it on bad training.” He bowed his head slightly.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, at least I know whose neck you’re looking out for.”
“Forgive me Miss, I almost forgot. Dr. Ande
rsen will be here this evening around seven.” Richard shifted uneasily. “I do hope you’re well, Miss.” He moved past me quickly. “If there won’t be anything else . . .”
“Richard!” I called after him like he was a child that had just done something naughty.
“Yes Miss?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “He told you, didn’t he?” I was completely embarrassed. Now Richard knew the sordid details of my love life.
“I am supposed to look after you Miss. It is important that I know any pertinent information that would jeopardize your safety.”
I stormed past him in a huff, yanked the newly polished sword off the wall, and started for the bedroom door.
“Miss Rose, where are you going?”
“To deal with a certain vampire,” I growled.
I stomped down the stairs and headed for the Library. Marcus was sitting in a chair, reading the paper when I threw open the doors.
“Phoebe?” he looked over the top of the paper. He placed it down quickly at the sight of me blazing in, armed with a murderous look in my eyes, and a sword in my hand.
I swung it at a vase of flowers—cutting the tops off with one swipe.
His eyes were wide as he rose from his chair.
I walked right up to him and pointed the sword right in the middle of his chest.
“Darling? What are you doing?” He spoke calmly like he was trying to talk down a suicide jumper. “Phoebe, that sword is very sharp; you don’t want to hurt yourself again. Put it down, slowly.”
“You . . . told . . . Richard!” I thundered.
Marcus sighed as if he’d worried needlessly. “I only told him to keep an eye on you since he’ll be training you. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he said defensively.
“Marcus, do you realize how crazy that is? There is no reason for you to tell anyone anything! The odds of my being pregnant are . . .” I stopped talking as I puzzled for a moment. “Well I don’t exactly know what the odds are, but they aren’t high!” I yelled, hoping I hadn’t lost my upper hand.
“I only want to make sure that you’re taken care of. I didn’t mean to upset you. I acted out of love.”
“And the others?” I glared at him, trying my best to ignore the sheepish look on his face.