by Tessa Dawn
Ciopori sighed. “Yes.” It was a mere whisper, but it seemed to please him.
“Where?”
Ciopori’s eyes grew big.
“Where?”
Ciopori held his gaze, knowing her eyes were pleading. “I want you inside of me,” she capitulated. “Dear gods, I’ve never wanted anything so badly.”
Marquis bent over and slowly kissed her, his passion so intense she felt like her heart might stop beating. His desire was only eclipsed by his tenderness as he massaged and tasted her breasts, swept his hands down and around the flat of her stomach, and finally drew his fingers up over her core...again and again...until she was nearly weeping.
“Why are you teasing me?” she uttered, breathless. Her voice hitched from the torture.
Marquis shook his head. “Not teasing you, Princess. Preparing you.”
He leaned back then and removed his shirt, exposing muscles like a granite statue, a stomach made of layered bricks. And then, in a slow, languid movement, he began to unzip his pants. As he dropped the black silk slacks along with his boxers to the floor, his magnificent erection sprang into view, and Ciopori froze beneath him.
The male was positively enormous and oh-so-incredibly beautiful. His sex was like a steel rod sheathed in pure velvet: hard and invincible, yet smooth and refined. The blunt, curved head was only slightly smaller than her fist, and the sight of it gave her pause. She wanted him, but...
Her eyes moved down to the thick shaft itself—at least the width of her forearm—and she shuddered. Marquis shook his head and slowly traced her bottom lip with his fingers before gently inserting his thumb in her mouth. Instinctively, she began to suckle.
“I would never hurt you, Ciopori,” he murmured. “I need you to trust me—completely—to give yourself fully over to my control.”
Ciopori stared into the eyes of her timeless lover, and her heart filled with him even as her body grew warmer. Whatever hesitation she had felt melted into absolute assurance as she relinquished her concerns, and her body became fully, irrevocably, his. “I do trust you completely, warrior.”
Marquis smiled then and gently blanketed her, his powerful erection pressing tight against her stomach as he continued to kiss her and explore her body. As Ciopori groaned, his sex jerked and expanded, small drops of arousal leaking out of the tip to coat her belly. Reaching down, Marquis caught one of the pearls on his forefinger and placed it on her tongue, grinding his thigh into her sex at the same time...
And she fractured.
Unsure of what was happening, Ciopori clung to his broad shoulders, her nails digging in for support, as her body spun out of control, contracting and releasing in shocking waves of ecstasy. From her thighs to her womb, she became a spiraling comet, the vibrations in her inner and outer core causing her to cry out like she was mad, her mouth buried in the thick of his arm.
Taking full advantage of the moment, Marquis repositioned his hips and gently pushed her legs aside with his thigh. In one fluid motion, he thrust his heavy sex into her, sheathing himself halfway.
Ciopori cried out as the enormous shaft broke through her maiden’s barrier and began to stretch her impossibly from the inside out, but the powerful waves of the orgasm carried her through the pain on an inexorable peak of pleasure. Before she could lose one to the other, Marquis began to rock back and forth, gently at first—stretching, opening, seeking deeper and deeper with each careful thrust—until he was finally surging in and out of her with total abandon.
His head was thrown back, his glorious, wild hair spilling out around him. And in his primal nature, he grunted and growled...and groaned...as he took her with such primal power.
With absolute control.
Ciopori thought that she might die from the pleasure.
This was where she belonged: lying beneath Marquis, existing only for his pleasure…while drowning in the same. The intensity was overwhelming, and she began to weep.
Marquis brushed away her tears and dipped down to kiss her lips even as his hips kept up their furious thrusting, taking her higher and higher with each passionate stroke. He understood her tears to be exactly what they were, and they seemed to only heighten his response. His need.
Marquis’s eyes were half-open, half-closed, his handsome face stamped with a look of such pleasure that it almost appeared pained. “I want to come inside of you,” he groaned into her ear. “I want to fill you, and I want you to take all of me…to keep inside of you even when I’m gone.”
Ciopori cupped his face in her hands. “Will I be in danger of getting pre—”
“No,” he assured her, his thrusts becoming shorter and faster, his pounding harder. “Not unless I command it. You can’t—” His voice cut off in midsentence as he suddenly inhaled and shuddered. His back stiffened; his body froze; and his face became harshly beautiful in a way Ciopori had never imagined a male could be.
Marquis shouted his release, his body trembling as stream after stream of his essence spilled into her core. He plunged deeper and deeper even as he climaxed, almost as if he wanted to crawl inside her and hold her there forever.
Ciopori clung to the magnificent warrior as her own body came apart a second time. She held on for dear life, riding out the waves of pleasure with him until they slowly came down together.
Finally spent, Marquis fought to catch his breath, his head falling forward against her chest. Careful to shoulder the bulk of his weight with the strength of his arms, he slowly withdrew and rolled to his side, gathering Ciopori close to his heart.
The moment was too delicate.
Too sacred.
Too timeless to interrupt with words.
Everything and nothing was said at the same time, both of them knowing this was their final good-bye.
After at least an hour had passed, lying in each other’s arms, Marquis moved. “I have to go, my love; I’m surprised my brothers have not come for me yet.”
Ciopori exhaled and sat up. “And Kristina, she’s probably wondering—”
Marquis held up his hand to cut her off. “She’s probably resting. Please…don’t go there, Ciopori.”
Ciopori sniffled and climbed off of the chaise. They both dressed side-by-side in silence. When finally, there was no more excuse to linger, Marquis opened his arms one last time and bid her into them.
Ciopori fought to maintain her dignity, struggled to preserve her composure.
While she should have felt guilty over what they had just done, she could not. The female downstairs had no feelings for Marquis whatsoever.
Ciopori had pressed Nachari for information on the way to the clinic, and according to him, there was no existing relationship between the two of them. While Marquis’s future was dependent upon them building one quickly, that process had not yet started. For all intents and purposes, Ciopori was his past. And this new woman...Kristina...would be his future. The two points were linear, and never would their destinies intersect. No, Ciopori would not taint the only part of Marquis she would ever have—her memories—with guilt.
Marquis’s arms tightened around her as if he had read her thoughts. And truth be told, he probably had. She felt his throat constrict against her forehead as she nuzzled into the hollow of his neck. He, too, was swallowing his pain.
“I will miss you always, warrior.”
Marquis stood as still as a statue. “And I, you, Princess.” He stepped back swiftly and caught her by the shoulders. “Look at me.”
Their eyes met, and an unspoken grief passed between them.
“I love you, Ciopori.” He stroked the side of her jaw, allowing his fingers to linger over her chin before his arm fell back to his side.
“I love you too, Marquis.” She choked over the words, unable to stop her tears. When she reached out for his hand, he backed away…swiftly, defiantly.
Resolutely.
Ciopori felt the blood rush out of her face the moment she looked into his eyes. Her stomach turned queasy, and her heart sank in her c
hest. Marquis looked like a granite statue: dark, cold, and lifeless.
Hardened to the core.
Whatever passion or life had been in the warrior just moments ago—just an hour ago—was irretrievably gone.
Ciopori reached out to him once more in an effort to take his hand, but he pulled it away, his eyes completely devoid of emotion. “From now on, stay away.”
The arctic words caught her off-guard, sending shivers of ice down her spine. She tried to force his gaze, but it was as if she wasn’t even there. Her warrior—her lover—was no longer standing before her. There was only a vampire. A creature with ghostly, obsidian eyes. A male who was cold and cruel…and empty.
Her heart beat a mile a minute. She had to reach him. “Marquis,” she whispered, “don’t do this to yourself—to us—to me. To never see you again would be a fate...” Her words trailed off. He was looking straight through her as if he didn’t even see her now.
Dear gods, she was as dead to him as his little brother.
“Be well, Princess.” His words drifted into the empty space, and then he simply disappeared, vanishing from her view before she could respond.
Ciopori stumbled back to the chaise and sat down, her mind a cauldron of jumbled thoughts, her stomach tied in knots.
Her heart irreparably broken.
She stared at the space where Marquis had been—where the empty shell that had briefly been her world had just stood—and shuddered.
Dearest virgin goddess, how will I go on?
She had lost him forever.
eight
“You can stay in the guest room tonight. I’ll retrieve your things tomorrow.” Marquis spared Kristina a sideways glance as they pulled up to his house on the northern edge of the Dark Moon Forest.
Kristina blinked several times but said nothing as the rugged Hummer came to a complete stop in front of the old-fashioned, three-story home. She stared at the wide wraparound porch, thinking it reminded her of something one might find on a farm, absently imagining it filled with dogs and cats. She tried to make sense of the fact that this was now her new home, but she just couldn’t grasp it.
“Did you hear me?” Marquis asked.
“Huh?” She turned her gaze to the huge, intimidating vampire who had been her boss for the last eight years.
“I said you can stay in the guest room tonight, and we’ll go get your things tomorrow.”
Kristina nodded like an obedient child. “Yeah…okay.” Boss.
Marquis came around to the other side of the truck and opened the door for her. Well, wasn’t that just all gentlemanly and stuff. At first, she tried to fold in on herself, making her body as small as possible, and then she quickly ducked by him, putting several paces between them. Please, God, don’t let him touch me.
Marquis didn’t appear to notice...or care.
Good.
Kristina followed the angry-looking vampire to the front door and stopped just short of the threshold. She didn’t want to go in. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Marquis Silivasi right now. She knew exactly what the Blood Curse was—what it required of her—and frankly, she wanted no part of it.
Kristina shivered at the mere thought of having sex with Marquis Silivasi, wishing her mind would quit wandering like that.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t good-looking or anything: The man was fine as hell, actually, but he was a vampire, after all! And he was three times her size. And ten times meaner than the meanest man she’d ever met...Dirk.
Marquis frowned and held the door open: the door to his lair. “Come inside, Kristina. I’m not going to bite you.”
Kristina blanched and took a step back. She hadn’t thought of that possibility…yet. Oh, hell, was she going to have to start drinking blood now too? “I...I think I left my purse in the car.” While it sounded like a pitiful excuse to get away, it was actually true.
“I’ll get it,” Marquis barked. He sounded more like a bloodhound than a man, and apparently, she was his new bone.
“No! I can get it myself. I’m not helpless.”
Marquis’s frown deepened, his freaky blue-black eyes turning as dark as the night. “I will not have you arguing with me at every turn, Kristina. I am entrusted with your safety now, and I will retrieve your—”
“Look, Mr. Silivasi…” Kristina held up her hand to shut him up, clearly catching her boss by surprise—well, her former boss, anyhow. What was she supposed to call him now, anyway? She cleared her throat and continued: “In the last three hours, you told me my relationship with Dirk was over—all but admitted you were going to kill him...” Her voice began to falter, so she quickly changed the subject. “And now you’re forcing me to give up my life completely and come live”—she pointed at the house—“here in this Victorian mausoleum.”
“It’s not Victorian,” Marquis said matter-of-factly.
Kristina rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever! The point is, forgive me if I need a few seconds alone right now without you hovering over me like…like Freddy Kruger or Jason Voorhees or something.” She gestured toward the thick surrounding trees and mountains. “This place is already creepy enough, don’t you think?”
Marquis shook his head, clearly annoyed. “I can assure you, Kristina; I haven’t the faintest idea what—or who—you’re talking about.” He waved a cocky hand through the air like a king dismissing a slave. “And frankly, I don’t care to know.” He leaned back in the doorway and stared at her, looking totally like the big bad wolf in that story about the girl who liked to wear red.
Hmm, did the wolf actually eat Red Riding Hood? Or—
Kristina’s heart sank into her stomach. Blessed Mary, mother of God, the guy was scary. Even as her boss, he always had been. But at least then, their interactions had been limited to Hi—yes, boss—are the paychecks here yet?—and good-bye. Now that she thought about it, he acted like he wanted to keep it that way: the boss-employee power structure. Well, maybe except for the paying her thing, ’cause that would make her a prostitute, wouldn’t it?
She forced herself to meet his scary gaze and tried not to show her fear. Damn, but the man was fine, though. His body was cut…like iron…like some kind of sex god decided to reproduce himself as a vampire. And his face was freakin’...well, perfect.
Except he was just too harsh.
All those sculpted features were just like the man: rough, cold, and hard as stone. There was no give or take in Marquis Silivasi, just absolute command and control.
Kristina stared at the ancient vampire like she had never seen him before as he stood in the doorway with his rock-hard arms crossed over his chest and his dark, demon eyes boring into her skull. And then it suddenly occurred to her, Marquis didn’t just look like a demon; he had all the powers of one too.
Oh, shit!
The man was dangerous as hell…
Maybe she needed to chill—just a bit.
She cleared her throat. “Please,” she said as nicely as possible. “Just five minutes? Then I’ll be right in.”
Marquis pointed at the truck. “Fine. Take ten if you like, but I’ll be right here watching.”
Kristina was just about to argue when his land-line rang inside the house. She closed her eyes and threw out a quick Hail Mary—who the hell still had a land-line?—praying he would just go and get it. She could hardly breathe with the old geezer hovering over her like that.
Marquis looked back and forth between the truck and the kitchen, and then he growled deep in his throat like a tiger. “To the truck and straight back,” he snarled. And then he leaned in so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Don’t even think about running, Kristina; it would only serve to irritate me.”
Kristina restrained herself from rolling her eyes and nodded. Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do—outrun a vamp—and in high heels, no less. She forced a smile. “To the truck and back.”
Marquis didn’t return the smile—not that she was surprised. The moment he turned his back and headed down the ha
ll she swore beneath her breath…
And then the cursing really got good to her.
Apparently, she was channeling her inner sailor.
She kicked at the ground on her way to the truck, blinking back a fresh onslaught of tears. How in the hell had this happened? Her. Kristina Riley! Marquis Silivasi’s destiny? The vampire gods had to be smoking crack or something.
As she got closer to the truck, she tried to calm down. She took a few deep breaths, noticing how cold the mountain air had become with the changing seasons. She tried to collect her thoughts.
Steady as a drum, Kristina. Just breathe.
She had all of eternity to get ticked-off and freaked out. Right now, she just needed to take it one minute at a time.
She opened the heavy door to the H3T—damn, her boss had a sweet ride, though. She leaned over to pick up her purse, when all at once, a big hand snatched a handful of her hair and yanked like there was no tomorrow.
Kristina started to scream, but the other hand clasped over her mouth before any sound could escape. “So, you’re sleeping with your boss now, Kristi?” The fist in her hair tightened. “How long?”
Kristina froze at the sound of Dirk’s voice. How in the world had he found her so quickly? How could he possibly know that she was with Marquis?
Oh, shit…Marquis!
“Dirk. Dirk! Listen to me,” she cried against his hand. “You gotta let go and get out of here.” The words came out muffled: Why she was trying to save his sorry-butt in that moment, she had no idea.
Dirk hauled her out of the car, slammed the door shut, and started to drag her across the lawn toward a grove of trees. Her head splintered from the pain. She kicked with her legs—trying to regain her footing in order to ease the pressure—all the while, thrashing her arms wildly in a wasted effort to break free.
“I asked you a question!” Dirk shouted. “How long!”
He stopped dragging her and threw her carelessly to the ground. He knelt over her and slapped her crisply across the face. “How long have you been screwin’ your boss, Kristi?”
Kristina was too stunned—and too scared—to speak. She was scared for herself, scared for Dirk, and scared what would happen if Marquis found them. “I’m not,” she whimpered.
