by CC MacKenzie
She couldn't speak.
She couldn't think.
His heavy body seemed bigger, stronger, as it pressed down on top of her.
She felt him shudder as he unbuttoned, unzipped his pants and his powerful knee spread her naked thighs wide revealing the very heart of her to his gaze.
God, she felt so exposed, so vulnerable and so terribly excited.
She whimpered in her throat.
A strong hand pressed between her shoulder blades and held her down into the couch as the other held his erection and slid it up and down her exposed and swollen flesh.
"Speak. Do you want it?" He rolled his pelvis once, twice. And his voice sounded rough, deeper somehow.
She’d never felt anything like the amazing sensation as he slid his flesh against her flesh.
Trying to look behind her, the flat of his hand held her absolutely still.
He felt so much bigger, thicker and as hard as steel.
He kept teasing her until she cried out in a feral howl that sounded nothing like herself.
"Yes, please, James. Take me,’ Charlotte moaned and gave a heartbreaking sob as again she tried to turn to watch.
But James growled a warning and she simply closed her eyes wondering what was going to happen next.
Moving so fast she didn't get a chance to prepare, he speared her.
"Christ, you’re so hot, Charlie. So tight and wet."
James was a big man and usually he took exquisite care with her making sure he didn’t hurt her, but not now. Was it her imagination that he stretched her too wide, felt too big the way he overfilled her? Now he pumped fast and he pumped hard, his heavy testicles striking her sweet spot over and over and Charlotte cried out again and again as her body wound tighter. Desperately her hands gripped the smooth silk of the cushions as she tried to find a purchase, something to anchor her as he roared out her name and pounded into her even harder.
She was just about to climax when he pulled out and turned away.
Lying there totally naked, sprawled over the couch on the desperate edge of orgasm it took a disbelieving Charlotte a couple of deep shuddering breaths to realize her husband was not returning to her.
Chapter Three
New York
Hand in hand with her brand new husband (who'd have thought Marcus was a big softie at heart?) Anais stepped out of the elevator and found herself in the expansive basement of the skyscraper that held the world headquarters of Gillespie, Pattullo and Hindmarch.
Still holding her hand, Marcus tugged her down a wide corridor and shouldered through double doors.
She entered.
"Wow," whispered a stunned Anais as her jaw dropped.
They were standing in a brightly lit space the size of an aircraft hangar.
Except, this was no ordinary space.
The floor had a number of black cushioned judo mats spread out wide. The walls held what looked like a vast variety of battle sticks used in martial arts. At the far end of the area was a myriad of gym equipment including machines for weight training, running, elliptical, punch bags and two sparring rings.
She turned to study her bare-chested, bare-footed husband dressed only in loose black cotton pants. Now she knew why he'd insisted she wear her gym gear. Black hair caught in a high ponytail, she wore black cross-trainers on her feet, a black sports bra and yoga pants. From a small room, Centuri Commander Ian Macpherson stepped out. He, too, was dressed in loose black pants. His powerful pectoral muscles flexed as he padded towards them, loose-limbed like a big powerful feline.
Ian bowed low to Marcus.
When he lifted his head, his green eyes glittered with what looked like amusement as he took in her clothes.
"Good evening, Consort. Are you ready for your training to begin?"
Consort?
Training?
Bewildered, Anais turned to look at her husband and gave him big eyes.
"What training?" she asked, shelving the Consort question for later.
Marcus's dimple flashed in his left cheek.
A rare sight that never failed to make her heart beat faster.
He reached out to pat her head as if she was five years old, then slid his hand down her back to gently pat her backside once, twice.
"You're a newborn. It is time for you embrace our ways. More importantly, it is time for you to learn how to defend yourself."
Was it indeed?
She stared hard at his face, looking for the joke, and realized he was perfectly serious.
Anais bit down hard on her bottom lip, a move that never failed to arouse her husband. It was also a move that stopped her from laughing out loud. Neither Marcus or his Commander knew that she was an adept in Krav Maga. Doing her level best to look both overwhelmed and incredibly reluctant, she took a very careful step back.
A move that made the dimple blink again.
"You want me to fight? With you?"
Marcus took her face in his hands and dropped a tiny kiss on her nose.
"Don't worry, my wee darlin’. I'll go nice and easy on you."
Ian cleared his throat, his green eyes were most definitely twinkling now.
Irritation with both vampyres tickled in her belly.
What a pair of smug looking smart-asses.
She took another careful step back.
"Both of you are a lot bigger than me. How do I know you'll fight fair?"
Marcus had the bare-faced cheek to look offended.
"You know I would never hurt you." Taking her hand in both of his, he towed her over to the closest floor mat. "Let's try a couple of easy moves first, just to get you started."
He released her.
Biting down very hard on her bottom lip, Anais watched Marcus stretch and whirl in a complex series of moves. She recognized Ju Jitsu, Karate, kickboxing.
And Marcus was fast.
Very fast.
Hmm, he was good.
Scratching her neck and looking pitiful, Anais stood with slumped shoulders and a bad attitude until he'd finished showing off.
Then he approached her from behind, placed an arm around her neck in a choke hold that didn't choke her. Not yet.
Anais stood utterly still.
"Now," he said in a tone that a teacher might use to a very reluctant child. "What would you do if someone came at you like this, from behind?"
His big body pressed against her back.
"Scream?"
His laugh vibrated through his vast chest.
"Good one. But what if he did this."
His arm squeezed until her voice box was inactive but she could still breathe.
In a flash she was on her back on the mat and Marcus had her immobilized, her shoulders pinned by his knees. She stared up into his laughing face. In this position she could smell the maleness of his arousal.
She fluttered her eyelashes. He could never resist a fluttering eyelash could Marcus. And sure enough, he bent his head to smack an indulgent kiss right on her sulky mouth.
"No kissing during fight club," said Ian in an easy-going tone that pressed a particularly hot button in Anais.
"So," said Anais, staring helplessly up at her husband. "You're a big strong vampyre against a puny and pathetic newborn. A newborn who has the muscle tone of a bug. How am I going to learn anything from you if I'm flat on my back on the floor?"
His eyes went dark and wicked as his mouth curved in a slow, sexy smile.
"I can teach you many things flat on your back on the floor."
True.
Very true.
"Yes, you most certainly can and you most certainly do, but that's not why we're here, is it?
Ian cleared his throat.
Marcus pressed another kiss on her mouth, relaxed on top of her and released her shoulders.
Gotcha.
"Well," said Marcus. And that was all he said before he was flying through the air to land on his back. Air whooshed from his lungs as his wife's knee pressed hard on his balls and
her sharp, very sharp, elbow was on his windpipe. That elbow bore down with the weight of her body behind it.
Her dark eyes went wicked and wild as her vampyre rose and triggered his.
She bent her head and kissed him with tongue and teeth, all the while ignoring his Commander's hastily hidden snort of laughter behind her.
She lifted her head and stared dead into his eyes.
The swell of his erection twitched to life under her knee.
The man was resilient.
"You wanna fight, big boy? Then let's fight."
In a flash, she was up on her feet and dancing a rapid little two-step shuffle like a professional boxer in a ring.
And not once did she take her eyes from her husband who lay on the floor and trying to catch his breath. She wiggled her butt. A move that had his vampyre growl low and deep in his throat. "You pulled a fast one on me."
Anais did another high-speed little two-step on the spot.
"Yep. Serves you right. That'll teach you to pat my backside in public."
He smiled, his fangs almost glinting too white in the bright lights of the room.
"Baby, I'm gonna do much more to your backside than pat it."
"Oh yeah? From where I'm standing you don't look in any shape to pat anything."
Between one heartbeat and the next, he was on his feet.
Marcus began to circle her.
Anais spread out and moved in time with him, step-by-slow-step.
She did another eyelash flutter, wiggled her fingers, taunting him.
"Come on then, vampyre. Let's see what you've got."
His vampyre gave out a roar that rang and echoed through the vast space.
Neither of them noticed ten Centuri warriors, all dressed to kill, line the wall to watch the show.
Without warning, Marcus darted towards her.
She danced out of his reach, and her elbow skimmed his jaw.
She wasn't pulling her punches, he realized, because if the full force of that elbow had hit him, he'd have a lovely bruise blooming right about now.
His vampyre growled low and deep in his mind and Marcus warned his beast not to hurt her.
She was still vulnerable.
And she was his wee darling.
Just as he was mulling over how to teach her a lesson without inflicting a bruise, his wee darling distracted him by slowly running her hands up her torso to caress her breasts and then, showing absolutely no mercy, she drop-kicked him right in the balls.
Marcus sank to his knees.
The pain was so vicious that his mouth went into the shape of an O and a high whimper escaped from his throat.
"Well done," cried Ian, who slapped her on the back.
A mistake.
She whirled.
Ian Macpherson, for the first time in his life, found himself clutching his throat after a double punch that was so lightning fast he hadn't seen it coming.
As both men were on their knees, Anais did another double-quick two-step shuffle on the spot. "Is that lesson one over?"
When she received no response other than a high whine (this from her husband) she gave them a smile an angel might be proud of, turned her back, strolled to the door, hips swaying enticingly. With a hand on the handle, she turned and waggled her fingers. "Thanks for the warm-up, guys."
And left.
It wasn't often that Marcus Gillespie found himself speechless.
But he was speechless now.
Still on his knees and blinking frantically to stop his eyes watering, he breathed through the pain between his legs and turned to stare at his Centuri Commander.
"Bluidy hell."
"Aye," agreed a very hoarse Ian whose fingers were massaging his voice box. "But what I want to know is why she didn't fight like that when the Legion took her."
Marcus blinked.
"Good point. Once I've got my breath back, I'll ask her."
"You do that. And while you're at it, ask her where the she learned to fight like that."
Marcus struggled to his feet, bent over with his hands on his knees and took a shaky breath.
Christ, she'd broken his dick.
By the time he stood up, the room was spinning sickly.
Ian nearly toppled him when he slapped his back.
Marcus returned the favor and grinned right into his Commander's face.
"Isn't she fucking marvelous?"
Chapter Four
Shaking like a leaf, her emotions taking her on a crazy roller-coaster ride, Charlotte managed to stand and simply stare at her husband.
He stood before her fully clothed and looked as if he was carved from stone, except for the occasional pulse from his erection.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip and tasted blood.
There was no way she could deny, standing stark naked in front of him, that she loved him utterly and completely.
But duty to business always came first with the Gillespie brothers. Going into their marriage, she’d known how important his work was to James, so she had no excuse for her feelings of abandonment. Not really. After six short months she'd begun to feel rejected. Their sex life, once so incredible had petered down to a roll on roll off act that broke her heart every single time.
After Eleanor Pattullo, daughter of Cristophe Pattullo, had befriended her and told her about Dirty Little Secrets, her networking group for women linked to an upmarket sex shop, Charlotte had started to write down her deepest sexual fantasies. Fantasies she'd desperately wanted to share with her husband in the hope it would kick start their sex life.
Right now it appeared she was about to get her wish, so why did she feel like she’d opened Pandora’s box?
By leaving her right on the edge of an orgasm like this, she knew James was punishing her. Her need to orgasm was so intense her fingers itched to finish it herself. But instinct told her she’d pay a brutal price if she moved. She’d no idea by the frozen expression on his strong face what he was thinking.
Normally James would tell her how beautiful she was and what she did to him, but not now. Now his mouth was held tightly closed and he watched her as if he’d never seen her before.
James tore off his clothes and stripped down to his skin so fast she couldn’t believe it.
The ten days since she’d seen that muscular body with the enormous shoulders, long, strong legs and his magnificent shaft, felt like weeks.
He was so much bigger than she remembered and his erection appeared even thicker and full with veins of sheer muscle making it look rock hard.
Charlotte wondered with a feeling of utter dismay and a rising panic what the hell she’d done to her marriage.
Through nothing more than sheer willpower, James kept his raging vampyre on a choke hold.
He turned away from the love of his life, turned away from those pleading eyes the color of freshly mown grass and strode into the en-suite bathroom.
His heart was jack hammering in his chest.
Stepping under the freezing water of the power shower, his fist attempted to purge the utter fury from his throbbing dick. If he’d carried on he’d have hurt her and he’d rather die before he did such a thing.
The beast living within him was so outraged by what he’d read in that little black book that it wanted to punish Charlotte, hard. The slap to his vampyre’s masculinity had tipped it over the edge. For too many months James had fought a war of attrition with his vampyre, explaining the next step taken to bring Charlotte into their world, needed to be his wife’s.
Well, Charlotte had certainly taken a step into the unknown by writing down her deep unhappiness with their sex life and James didn't blame her. In the beginning it had been phenomenal. But his vampyre had always wanted more. Twice the beast had almost taken over and bitten Charlotte while James struggled to keep control. Over time, he'd pulled away from her and his wife was bright enough to realize that in their bed something was wrong with her husband.
Christ, he thrust his hands through his hair.
He’d been so fucking stupid. By trying to protect her, to take his time and gently bring her into their clan, she’d become aware he was holding something back. Charlotte had felt sexually rejected by him. And it was all his own stupid fault. It was all there in black and white.
According to one entry she’d been having strange and haunting dreams of biting him.
Another entry mentioned how she adored the smell of his skin, couldn't get enough of the taste of his shaft. And thinking of those entries now was a mistake. A big mistake, because his vampyre had had enough. He groaned in surrender as his fangs shot down from his gums.
He stalked back into their bedroom.
She hadn’t moved an inch. Her heart was beating too fast as she watched him as he towel-dried his hair, his body, and all the while his eyes never left her pale face.
Charlotte’s eyes went wide and her stomach clutched as he strolled over and picked up his striped silk tie off the thick carpet of blue wool the same color as his eyes.
Those eyes appeared darker, colder.
She didn’t recognize their expression as he took a long hard look at her.
He held up the tie.
His deep voice sounded strange and harsh as he spoke,
"This, according to your little book, is what you want so why the long face and big eyes? Turn around. Hands behind your back."
Her eyes flew to his and she bit down hard punishing her bottom lip again when she read a mix of dark desire and determination.
Oh my God.
He was going to give her Dirty Little Secret number one?
Her breasts swelled as her nipples went so rocklike they actually tingled and throbbed, matching the desperate ache burning deep in her belly. Arousal trickled down the inside of her thigh as she turned her back to him and did as he asked.
At first the tie felt slack between her wrists but then he pulled and it went too tight.
James spun her round to face him.
Then his hand came up to tug on her ponytail in a move that jerked her chin high and had her heart fluttering like a trapped bird in her throat.
Dark eyes scanned her face, lingering for an eternal moment on the pulse in her throat before moving to her breasts and the pink flesh swollen between her legs before rising and meeting her eyes.
