Blood Unleashed (Blood Stone)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Marcus kissed her flesh right beneath her breasts, and let his tongue slide up between the mounds. He released one breast, and traced the slope of it with his lips. Finally, fianlly, he let himself draw the tip of her breast into his mouth, and toy with the nipple with his tongue. He closed his teeth around the sides of it and drew them along the length, while rasping his tongue over the tip.

  Ilaria gripped his hair, her hands clenching, as she shuddered under his ministrations. He supported her back, and pulled her closer to him, so he could feast on her breasts more effectively. Her squirming and quivering was having an effect on him. His balls were hard and aching, while his cock quivered and throbbed. His body was tight and buzzing with anticipation.

  Deep in his belly, his orgasm was building.

  Marcus moved his attention from the first breast to the other and Ilaria gave a deep, gutteral groan as he fed upon it. The sound stroked his spine and the back of his neck, making the small hairs there stand upright in almost painful attention.

  He relinquished her breast and began to follow the trail he had set down her torso, sliding his hands down her back until they were at her hips once more. He twisted the button on her skirt undone with one quick flick and pulled the skirt away from her hips.

  Her thighs were spread for him already, and with the removal of the skirt, he saw that she was wearing stockings, the kind that stayed up without need for a garter belt. They ended just beneath the junction of her thighs, showing off an inch or so of creamy, delicate flesh. His heart gave another tiny leap of pleasure.

  She wore delicate lace panties that matched her bra and did nothing to hide her pussy. There was no dark triangle beneath. Instead there was the flesh-coloured tiny mound that made his heart lurch once again, and the shadow of a cleft. She was bare.

  Marcus tugged at the panties with trembling hands and she lifted her hips to let him remove them properly. He guided her hips back to the cushion, his hands under her ass, which was rounded and firm.

  He pressed his lips against her inner thigh, and bit gently. Her thigh quivered in reaction. Her skin tasted like some delightful bouquet...he couldn’t think of what, exactly. His thoughts were mirred by his incredible, raging need to possess her. All of her.

  Ilaria’s hands in his hair were pressing him toward her pussy.

  Marcus smiled and pressed her legs as wide apart as they would go, and left his hands on her knees.

  He ran his tongue from the bottom of her cleft to the top, pausing for one heart-stopping moment against her swollen, throbbing clit.

  Ilaria cried out in a broken, used voice and her hips jerked forward. “God above, please, please, just fuck me,” she begged.

  He shook his head. “I haven’t finished with you yet.” His cock wanted nothing more than to drive into her now he was so close, but with sheer bloody-mindedness, he forced himself to stay on his knees and savour these moments.

  Ilaria was panting. It was a provoking sound.

  He nuzzled the velvety soft lips of her cleft, and let his tongue slide inside to thrust and explore. He also pressed his fingers against the soft opening of her pussy, feeling the slickness and the taut wall of muscle. He tested the muscle, stroking it. He felt the ripple of contractions around his fingers, and pushed them deeper inside her.

  As he thrust into her, he sucked at her clit, toying with it and lapping at the stiffly erect organ with his tongue.

  She bucked on the cushions, driving herself into his mouth. Her cry sounded desparate and breathless.

  Her body was tightening and thrumming with a building orgasm. Marcus pushed deeper with his fingers, feeling the walls of her pussy quiver and bend around his knuckles, accepting him into her.

  Her climax was powerful and long. She thrust back into a hard arc, her body jerking and spasming with the waves of the climax, her mouth open and her eyes closed.

  Triumph trickled through him. He loved this power, this ability to make her forget everything in the heat of her pleasure.

  Ilaria fell against the back cushions, her elbows propping her up. She was breathing hard and Marcus could see the wild beat of her heart echoed in her left breast, as it trembled in time with the beats.

  Then she forced herself upright and looked at him. Her expression was difficult to decipher. There was awe and pleasure, but Marcus thought he could detect bewilderment, perhaps even surprise.

  She pressed her hand against his cheek. It was an endearing and moving little gesture. “Thank you,” she told him gravely.

  “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” he assured her, standing up. He stripped quickly, finally releasing his raging cock from the confines of his jeans. He was trembling with wanting.

  Ilaria was watching him, her gaze frank and focused on his crotch. She licked her lips and her gaze flickered to his face.

  “Now I will fuck you as you requested,” he told her. He moved her on the sofa, rolling her onto her hip, with her back against the sofa cushion. He swivelled her around until her firm ass was facing him and at the same time brought both her knees up close to her chest. Her pussy showed, pink and inviting.

  Marcus rested one knee on the sofa, and propped himself up on the back of it. He guided his cock into her, feeling the slippery moistness of her, and the muscles close around his shaft, gripping it.

  He nearly came just from the sensation of sliding into her, and paused once he was fully buried, beating the climax back, girding himself.

  Ilaria gripped the arm of the sofa with the hand of the arm that wore the thick armband, her fingers digging in. Her breath was shortening again.

  He slid out of her slowly, feeling the stroke of her channel walls. The push back in was instinctive. He couldn’t stop himself.

  “Oh...” she breathed. “Deeper.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Harder.”

  “If I do, this will all be over in seconds,” he told her.

  She swallowed. “This time will be over. Next time you can take me any way you care to. I want you now. Hard, fast, as deep as you can take me.”

  He gripped the cushion, fighting for control. He was too close to climaxing to have much control left. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, breathing deeply. She was pushing him faster than any woman had done before.

  So be it.

  He slipped the leash on his control deliberately, his heart hammering, and began to thrust in the way his body was demanding, just as Ilaria was demanding. Deep and hard, driving himself into her. He gripped her thighs, pushing them higher, as he rammed into her. Her closed legs made her pussy a tight fit. He was gripped and stroked by her.

  He came with a harsh bellow, the air forced out of him as the pleasure slammed through him in a hard wave. It fizzed and sparked in his mind, annihilating coherent thought.

  The first normal thought he was able to form was one of recognition. He still wasn’t done with her. Despite the climax, his cock was still stiff and throbbing, and the heat curling and stroking the depths of his belly told him he needed more of her.

  He picked her up by her hips, and put her on her feet. The stockings on her otherwise naked body were an enticement all on their own. With a growl he turned her to face the sofa and bent her over from the hips. “Hold the back of it,” he told her.

  “ooohhh....” she breathed, her hands gripping the cushions.

  He spread her feet and gripped her hips. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you,” he confessed, and pushed inside her in one long slow thrust.

  “And I’ve wanted you to do this,” she said breathlessly.

  His body was directing, now. Animal need had wiped out any finesse or creativity. He drove into her again and again, his climax swirling closer. He reached around her hips and found her clit, and plucked at it with his fingers, massaging it.

  Ilaria gave another deep, throaty cry, her hips thrusting back at him as he thrust into her. She began to shake, her hips shifting in little movements that drove him deeper into his lust.

  Her orgasm arrived s
econds before his. Marcus could feel the power of the climax by the ferocious clamping of her pussy around his cock. For a second he could barely move inside her. Then he was released and his cock stroked by the ripples of pleasure she was feeling.

  It was enough to bring his own climax crashing down upon him. He thrust, his jaw clamped hard against the explosion of excitement. His heart seemed to strain under the power of it. His whole body clenched.

  He withdrew and let her stand upright. Ilaria turned slightly, tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked at up from under her brow. Her smile was warm and very, very wicked.

  His reaction to that smile, to her, told Marcus that this was far from over – whatever ‘this’ was.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marcus lay on his side, Ilaria tucked up against him so his body curled around hers – she was the perfect size to fit along his body.

  It was pre-dawn, the few moments when the sky was lightening and the waves became visible, instead of being ghostly white combers in the dark. He liked this time of day, but often wasn’t awake to catch it. Today, he was wide awake. The worries and questions that had been circling his mind for the last two days were crowding into his conscience and driving sleep far away.

  It was Tuesday morning. Yesterday, he had phoned in sick and rescheduled all his appointments while Ilaria had sat on the kitchen counter wearing one of his tee-shirts and watched him. The shirt had been ridiculously oversized on her, the neck sliding off one shoulder when she moved, enticing Marcus to explore. The entire thirty minutes he spent rescheduling, he was aware of her nipples pressing against the tee-shirt, calling to him. By the time he had finished, his body was tight with arousal and the subject of breakfast had been put off until he had carried her back to bed and made love to her all over again. Breakfast had been delayed until it was lunchtime.

  Yesterday had been a cloudy day, with fitful rain. It had driven most swimmers and tourists off the beach. Only the most dedicated surfers were taking a run at the choppy soup the wind had turned the waves into. Ilaria had begged until Marcus walked her down to the beach and stood guard while she paddled at the edges of the water with the delight of a six year old.

  It was the glimpses of the innocent in her that intrigued Marcus the most. Over the last two days he had seen nothing of the cold assassin. Instead, he had watched the voluptuous and sexy woman and this sweet childishness vie for his attention. The knowledgeable, sultry woman was almost enough on its own to keep Marcus fully occupied.

  But there was still so much he didn’t know about her. Especially, why she was here. It became clearer and clearer to him as the days rolled on that she had almost completely let down her guard with him. She had relaxed, just as she had requested she be allowed to do.

  Yet Marcus had debriefed dozens of agents in his time, and interrogated enemies. He had spent the last two years handling assets, all of whom came to the business with an agenda, and a personality that had to be unraveled before it could be directed effectively. He knew as surely as he knew his right knee ached before it rained that Ilaria was holding something back.

  Then there was McLaren. Marcus couldn’t ignore the fact that for two days – three, now – he had effectively been lying through his teeth to his director. The CIA didn’t take kindly to bullshit like that. The organization’s primary business was the collecting of information. Withholding like he was – hiding Ilaria, in other words – was likely to get him into deeper crap than he had been in after Tangier.

  Ilaria shifted and rolled away from him, onto her stomach and then onto her side, so that she was looking at him. She smiled.

  Marcus had grown to love her quick, rare smile. Ilaria’s mood was as changeable as the weather and just as unpredictable. She had a temper that flared instantly white hot, but blew away just as quickly. In the last two days, he had been kept on his mental toes, as she had switched gears and moods on him. He found all her moods entertaining, including her temper. He’d learned that holding her and kissing her tended to make her melt into the wanton within seconds, despite her anger.

  He liked to make her laugh. Her laughter was full-bodied and throaty, making her eyes dance and her smile appear.

  Marcus stroked her cheek as she lay smiling at him on the other side of his bed, her back to the rolling waves beyond the big floor to ceiling window. “Il mio dolce. I must work today.”

  Her smile faded. “Of course you must,” she said, but she seemed sad.

  “I don’t know what to do with you,” he confessed. “I can’t take you in, now. I could let you go, but I still don’t know why you let me find you.”

  Her expression grew sober, her big eyes grave. “Are you sure you want that question answered, now?”

  Marcus swallowed. She had nailed the crux of his problems very neatly with a single question of her own. Guilt swirled through him and he rolled onto his back, and closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t do this,” he told her. “I bend the rules and sometimes I break them, but this, bringing you here and keeping you here....that’s off the charts.” He took a breath, trying to organize his chaotic thoughts.

  Ilaria rested her hand on his chest, and he picked it up and kissed the fingers. “I wanted the question answered because that was what I’m supposed to do. Investigate, learn the truth. But that was Saturday. I don’t know what should happen now.”

  “Here be dragons,” Ilaria quoted.

  “The very edge of the known world,” Marcus agreed.

  She pushed herself up onto one elbow, so that she was looking down at him. Her silky hair brushed his chest. “Perhaps a better question to answer would be ‘what do you want?’”

  He closed his eyes again. “You,” he told her flatly. “I want you.”

  She kissed him briefly. “You’ve had me,” she reminded him.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he said flatly.

  Her stillness made him sit up, faint alarm filtering through him. “Too frank for you, Ilaria?”

  She bit the corner of her lip, contemplating him. “You’re using the truth,” she said.

  Caution prickled through him, making him uneasy. “I haven’t asked you for anything,” he said carefully. “I haven’t asked you for the truth. I wanted you to trust me, first.”

  “I do trust you,” she said flatly. “You, out of all of them, I can trust. I knew I would be able to, before I met you. You think for yourself. I knew if I could cut you off from your CIA people and get you to really listen, then you would hear me.”

  “And I did,” Marcus agreed, but his heart was thundering unhappily. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

  Ilaria let her lip go and squared her shoulders. “I haven’t gone back to my ... superior. Not for four days.”

  What had she been about to say, before she had changed it to “superior”? Then Marcus absorbed what she had really meant. “Are you, what, AWOL, or something?”

  “Or something,” she said softly.

  “You have a superior?” he asked, surprised.

  “Of a kind.”

  There was a low grade fear building in his gut. What was behind the closed door? What was she about to tell him? Everything about her – her mood, her posture – said that she was about to hit him with a truth of her own.

  “I want to come in,” Ilaria said. “I want CIA protection.”

  “Protection from what? From who?” But he already knew. She wanted protection from the legion of enemies she had grown through her peculiar art. She wanted protection from her boss, whoever the hell it was who had found a way to bind her to him.

  She had wanted peace. She had wanted to relax. She had been saying in an obscure way that she wanted to rest, to get away from the extraordinary stresses of her life. Now she was saying it openly.

  Marcus scrambled off the bed, grabbed his robe and threw it on. Ilaria followed him, pausing to pick up his discarded teeshirt from the floor and slide it on. She tossed her hair over her shoulders. “What is wrong?” she asked.<
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  Marcus strode out into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot. He needed coffee goddamn it.

  “Marcus, please. Talk to me,” Ilaria begged. She had one hand resting on the counter, and Marcus took in her long legs, that the teeshirt didn’t cover, and groaned.

  He put the pot back down and pushed it away. “Tell me,” he asked. “Tell me this whole affair, the last three days, it wasn’t just you softening me up so I would be empathetic to your request to come in.”

  She held still for several long seconds, while Marcus held his breath, waiting for the answer. Anger seemed to flicker in her eyes and her jaw was set hard. “No, I didn’t fuck you to make you agree to this,” she said flatly.

  He pushed a hand through his hair, feeling cold sweat breaking out. This was a turn he had not expected and he should have at least considered the possibility. “Christ, what a mess,” he breathed, thinking through the ramifications. If he brought her in, then he would have to be debriefed about how she had made contact. That was just the first step in the process, and it was one he couldn’t afford to take.

  “You should be talking to the FBI,” he croaked.

  Her lips thinned as she pressed them together. “The FBI don’t want to believe we even exist, let alone do anything about it.”

  For a minute, her meaning wouldn’t register. He wouldn’t let it make sense, because to do so would mean acknowledging....

  He bent over, gripping the counter, as nausea swept through him, grabbing his throat, his gut and squeezing his lungs. “Oh fuck...” he breathed. Even his vision swam.

  “Marcus...”

  He could hear her, but her voice was distant. Then her hand rested on the back of his shoulder.

  He flexed upright and backed away from her, until his ass hit the opposite counter. “You’re a vampire,” he said, his voice thick with the illness running through him. “You’re a fucking vampire!”

  She stood there, looking so fresh and gorgeous in his teeshirt, her hair tumbled about her face and the dark brown eyes he had let himself drown in as he had fucked her...