by Ellie J Duck
“She’s been bitten too, but the bleeding’s slowing,” Tobias says. “I’ll get her patched up back at the base.”
He reaches up slowly to disconnect the line to the rest of the team via the intercom still in his ear, a smile of unadulterated hunger on his perfectly handsome face. Desire pools beneath my abdomen, my whole body quivering with the overpowering need to touch him. To be touched by him. To feel him possess me so completely that I’ll never be complete again without him.
When his hand around the back of my neck pulls me in, his lips crashing down on mine, I am lost.
Chapter Nine
Idon’t have any idea how we got back to the base and my memory is foggy on the details of how we left the warehouse and got home, but before I know it, Tobias is dragging me out of the car and against his chest, kissing me again and filling me with this uncontrollable heat and desire, pushing away any and all concerns but the feel of his body against mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, tangling my hands into his hair and I kiss him back with every ounce of passion and pent-up need I’ve been hiding since I met him. Vaguely I’m aware that he’s moving, carrying us into the base, but I have better things to focus on.
Like the feeling of his solid, strong body between my legs and under my hands. Like the feel of his hot mouth on my neck, tormenting the flesh and no doubt leaving marks there; evidence of this lapse in control that neither of us can resist under the compulsion to have at each other until all this burning desire and frustration is spent. He kicks his bedroom door closed when he carries me into his room and in my lustful state, I grind my body against his, wanting to go all the way with him and knowing in my heart that he’ll grant my wish, even if neither of us really has a choice about it.
When my back collides with the soft mattress of his bed I sigh breathily. He lifts off me then and his hands trail down my body, over my breasts and stomach to the hem of my shirt, which he pulls up and off me. The slow torment of having his gaze on me, of the way he eyes me as though I’m the sexiest and most precious thing he’s ever seen makes my body throb with how badly I want him. Before he can relieve me of any more clothing, I snag his shirt, pulling it off him and groaning with delight at the sight of so much perfect man-flesh. Unable to resist the urge, I run my hands over his shoulders and down his chest, enjoying the way the muscles ripple under my fingers as I trail them to the button on his pants and pop it loose of the hole that keeps them up.
He flashes me a look so hot as the zipper rasps down that I whimper. His hands trail over the four diagonal scars across my chest between my breasts, the tips of his fingers light and teasing as he explores the scars I’ve had since before I can remember. I moan when he leans down and runs his tongue over each slash mark before he nuzzles into my neck once more, driving me wild.
Before I know it, I am totally bare beneath him. His cedar soap, spearmint and musky earth scent surround me and make me even hotter with desire as he settles his hips against the bed between my spread legs before lowering his mouth to my breast.
“Tobias,” I hear myself plead, unable to keep from begging him to put me out of this sensual torture. A low growl of desire rumbles through him, making his tongue vibrate against my flesh while his hands skim over my body until his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of me. I cry out, needing so much more than what he’s giving me and feeling like I’m burning up. Pleasure crackles through me like I’ve grabbed a live wire and Tobias’s smirk tells me he’s enjoying watching me slowly come undone beneath his touch. That is, if I ignore the glazed look in his eyes that I just know will mean he won’t remember a thing about this come the dawn.
Just when I’m sure I can’t stand another moment of the torment, he pulls his hands away and leaves my breasts with a sensual lick, lifting his eyes to mine. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think his expression was asking my permission. When he lifts himself up, aligning himself at the junction between my thighs, I quiver with anticipation. The movement alone is all he needs before he drives into me and I am entirely lost to the feel of his body moving with mine.
He kisses my lips to ease the sting as he divests me of my innocence and I am swept away in the pleasure he wrings from me. He starts out slow, taking his time as though he knows how it hurts just a little and I sigh against his chest when the stinging recedes in favor of all he can elicit from me. For my first time, it’s far more than I expected, and I can’t imagine anyone I would rather give the gift of my virginity to.
When I begin to moan softly, Tobias picks up the pace until I teeter on the precipice of what I suspect must be oncoming release. My whole body throbs and pulses with pleasure and heat engulfs me as he leans forward and sinks his teeth into my shoulder across from where the vampire bit me earlier. I come undone at the seams as his teeth cut through flesh and into the muscle there, clenching and spasming as I cry out, dragging Tobias over the edge with me.
When it is over, Tobias sighs against my skin, his weight pressing down on me comfortingly.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, depending on how I choose to look at it, the events that have just taken place between us aren’t nearly enough to satisfy the many fantasies and imaginings I’ve suffered starring Tobias Hilton. After a short rest Tobias rolls us both over until I am straddling him. I peer down at him hungrily as he uses his hands and his mouth and his body to pluck at the strings of pleasure within me until I can’t take it anymore.
He does it repeatedly, late into the night, both of us lost to the magic of the compulsion Irving Novikov inspired in us and the feel of each other’s body until there is nothing between us but passion.
∞ ∞ ∞
I wake as dawn breaks, light shining in through the skylight telling me it is morning and I stretch languidly before wincing in agony. Frowning, I lift my head from the pillow where I’ve slept, blanching when I see that I have been using Tobias Hilton’s chest as my pillow. He doesn’t stir even as I jerk back from him, recalling all that we have done and that he isn’t going to remember a thing about last night.
The agony of that knowledge beats at me as I slip naked from Hilton’s arms and begin gathering up all the evidence of what we’ve done. The collection of condom wrappers scattered about the place stains my cheeks red, and I don my clothing quickly, my eyes fixed on Hilton’s handsome sleeping face, terrified that he’ll waken before I can be free of this nightmare. I take everything I can find that might in some way hint to what we’ve done, knowing there is nothing that can be done for any blood that might be on his sheets, or the fact that my scent will linger to tip off his sensitive werewolf nose that I’ve been here.
I can only hope that whatever compulsion Novikov used on us to cause this terrible, heart-breaking scene will keep Hilton from remembering anything. Part of me yearns to have him wake, to see his confusion and his reaction to know what I know. To know he took my virginity. To know that every finger-shaped bruise and bite mark on me, save for one, is his doing. To know that the ache between my legs and the shattered, broken feeling inside my soul is the result of what he did to me in the throes of passion.
Another part of me quakes in fear of such an occurrence. I don’t want to see his horror and disgust when he learns what he’s done to the person he still refers to as simply ‘little human’ on a good day, and ‘fucking Cane’ on a bad one. He’s made it clear more than once that he wants nothing to do with me. Despite my fascination and infatuation with him, going so far as telling me to forget it when I whimpered to find myself pinned beneath his body during training a week ago.
When I’ve gathered every skerrick of evidence I can destroy, I slip from his room hoping against hope that the team haven’t returned yet and that they won’t know what we’ve done. They, too, are aware of my interest in Tobias and Tara has even taken to poking fun at me about my crush. The idea of them learning about this makes me want to vomit. When I reach my bedroom, I lock the door, sealing myself inside. I go to the toilet in my bathroom and I flush aw
ay the used condoms and wrappers. I strip my clothes off as I run the scalding water of my shower, pausing for a moment to stare at myself in the mirror, shocked and horrified by what I see.
There are finger-shaped bruises on both of my biceps, on my hips and in several places on my thighs. There is what looks to be a love bite standing stark against the pale skin of my left breast and my lips are swollen. My neck is a mess. One side bears the four deep puncture wounds and a dark purple bruise where the vampire fed on me. The other bears the torn skin and multiple bite marks and bruising that resulted in having Tobias bite down on my flesh in the throes of passion last night. The whole area is swollen and bruised. I stare at it, wondering if I ought to disinfect both bites.
After all, I imagine the bite of a vampire and a werewolf are not the most sanitary of wounds.
Steeling myself against the sight, I lift my eyes to meet those of my reflection and I flinch at the haunted glow to them. My long blonde hair, usually so well-kept and tightly tied in a neat bun, hangs loose about my shoulders and my face. My ‘cold-killer’ green eyes are rimmed red as I fight back the tears at the utter heartbreak that comes from the knowledge that I’ve given my innocence to a man who hates me; against his will and with no hope of having him ever be pleased over the notion should he ever learn the truth. My lips are swollen and red, bruised from the hard kisses Hilton gave me and the way he nipped at my lips so tantalizingly.
Unable to hold my own gaze, I trudge into the shower, not even recoiling at the scalding water as it slides down my back, washing the scent of Tobias off my skin and soothing the aching muscles in my body that come from a night spent shagging the sexiest werewolf in the world. As I lean against the wall beneath the hot spray, the memories of all the things Tobias and I did to each other flash behind my eyelids like a live play, forcing me to relive it all over again, with the knowledge that he won’t recall a thing.
Overcome with how much it hurts me as I relive the feel of him beneath me, his grip bruising on my hips, raising me up and plunging me down on his hard body over and over and over again whilst muttering my name like some kind of soft prayer, I slide down the wall and give in to the urge to sob out my heartache.
∞ ∞ ∞
I stay in my room for the length of the day, unwilling to risk running into Tobias anywhere in the house while just the two of us are home. Even when I hear the rest of the team returning and Greg knocking on my door to ask me if I’m okay, I don’t emerge. Despite how my stomach rumbles, I ignore the urge to eat, staying beneath the covers of my bed and trying desperately to keep from thinking about the painful ache in my lower abdomen and between my legs by watching too many movies to be considered healthy.
Not that it helps much.
I doze on and off, feeling as though I’m not all there, zoning in and out of consciousness. My shoulder aches where he bit me, while the other side stings and throbs painfully from Novikov’s feast on me.
When morning breaks, I claw myself out of bed, deciding that the best way to keep the others from becoming any more suspicious than they already are after I feigned sleep when they returned yesterday, is to get up and act as normal as possible. For the first time since I came here, I don’t begin my day clothed in cargo pants and a t-shirt. There is a nip in the air and I shiver as I stand in my knickers deciding how best to cover all the bruises still littering my skin. I opt for full length black yoga pants and an oversized hockey jersey that I pinched from Dad last year.
I arrange it over myself to engulf every bruise and bite mark, hiding them all from view before I shove my feet into a pair of big thick fluffy socks and trudging out of my room, plodding down the stairs. I don’t pull my hair up either, hoping that if the jersey slips my hair will cover the incriminating wounds on my throat and shoulder. The team might notice, but it’s easy to play off. When I reach the kitchen, I fill the coffee pot before laying out the cups for the rest of the team, knowing they won’t be far behind me.
Despite the early morning, I pour them all their coffee, taking the time to make it the way each of them likes, and leaving them sitting under a heat light until they all come trudging into the kitchen. I raise my eyebrows when Mitch is the first to join me since, he is usually the last. He looks as though he rolled out of bed and means to go back, his hair standing on end and messier than I’ve seen it outside the full moon. His eyes are barely open, and he wears only track pants, low on his hips and revealing his washboard abs.
I hate myself for the way the sight triggers memories of running my tongue over Hilton’s abs.
“Morning,” I chirp, trying hard to sound chipper and upbeat and cringing when my voice comes out thick and a little squeaky as though I’ve got a head cold. I wonder, vaguely, if maybe I have. I do feel slightly light headed and woozy. All I get out of Mitch is an unintelligible grumble until he’s downed half his coffee before a slow smile curls across his face.
“You look different,” he says, eyeing me and making me cringe just a little.
“It’s too cold for training and if anyone tries to make me leave the house I’m going to scream until your eardrums all bleed, so I thought I’d convey that notion with my clothing,” I tell him defensively.
“You smell different too….” he mutters, his flattened cat-like nose twitching as he saunters toward me. “Like…. I don’t know…. Different.”
“New shampoo, maybe?” I suggest hopefully, concerned now. Dear God, what if I still smell like Hilton?
“Maybe,” Mitch mutters, leaning close and sniffing at my hair. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” I answer, looking up when Brody lumbers into the kitchen looking irritable. “Your coffee is under the light,” I tell the cranky bruin as he moves around looking confused. He too looks as though he’s rolled right out of bed and is barely awake yet. He’s still in the process of pulling a shirt onto his massive muscled form and dressed in only track pants like Mitch. Greg is next, walking into the kitchen with a bounce in his step with Tara trailing along behind him, yawning loudly.
“Anna!” Greg greets me cheerfully. “How are you feeling? You must’ve slept like the dead yesterday. I tried to speak to you when we returned, but you didn’t answer the door.”
“Oh,” I say, blushing, “I must’ve slept through it. I didn’t hear you come home.”
The lie tastes bitter in my mouth.
“What’s that smell?” Tara asks when she chugs her coffee flavored milk. I wriggle self-consciously when their noses all twitch, scenting the air.
“Smells funny,” Brody grunts, clutching his cup as though guarding it lest any of us try to take it. “Like…. Something….”
“Anna, where did you get that jersey?” Greg asks, his nose twitching too.
“It was Dad’s,” I admit. “I nicked it from him when he was home at Christmas last year.”
“Might be the smell of another bruin lingering in the fabric…” Greg says, and I cringe when Tara comes over and lifts a fistful of the fabric over my chest, dipping her face to breathe in the scent. I pray they can’t see the marks on my neck.
“Smells like bear…. But there’s something else too…” I flinch away when Tara starts sniffing at me inquisitively, pressing her nose close to my face and sniffing before trailing toward my hair and then toward my neck.
If the team notice my squirrelly response, they don’t comment.
“Didn’t you get bitten?” Mitch asks, pointing at me. “Could be the vampire bite, ‘though if you’re still on your feet there can’t have been much venom in it.”
“I….” I begin before Greg interrupts with a snap of his fingers.
“That’s right, you were bitten! Goddamn it, I tried to check in with Tobias through the night, but I couldn’t reach him. He turned off his earpiece and he wasn’t answering his phone; did you two get home without incident?
“I…” I begin again, stammering now under their scrutiny.
“She was bitten,” that low, growly voice that I love so mu
ch comes from the doorway and we all look over to see Tobias dressed in a hoodie and track pants. Sweet lord, the sound of his voice is enough to send me tail-spinning into memories of being in his bed; in his arms.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Greg asks, frowning now and looking a little accusatory.
“I don’t know…” Tobias says, his eyes unusually orange and fixed on me, making me blush even more as images of all the things we’ve done dance inside my mind, “I don’t even know how we got home… I don’t remember anything after finding the little human with the vampire and trying to shoot the bastard…”
“What do you mean you don’t remember anything?” Greg asks, and I can see his worry now.
“I mean, I don’t bloody remember!” Tobias snarls, looking like he’s close to losing control as his body begins to shudder with frustration or perhaps fury. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember going to Cane. I don’t remember driving back to the base. I don’t know how I got here, and I have no memory of anything until I woke up yesterday around five in the afternoon feeling like I’d been hit by a truck!”
“Crap!” Tara curses softly and I can see the expressions on the faces of all the team.
“Anna, do you remember anything?” Greg asks me, turning his worried gaze on me now while I try to keep my eyes from trailing Hilton’s movements as he snatches up his coffee and slurps it down looking more than a little freaked out. His eyes jump back to my face and for a terrible moment I wonder if Novikov’s plan failed and Tobias remembers everything.
“I…” I try for the third time, “I was grabbed by the vampire…. He took my intercom and stomped on it before he threw me over his shoulder and dragged me off to some warehouse…” I say, starting at the beginning and recalling the night with perfect clarity in my mind. “I couldn’t move. I kept trying to lift my arm, so I could shoot him, and it wouldn’t cooperate. I could still talk, but when I tried to scream nothing came out… He bit me.”
