“I am sorry,” he panted, “I did not mean to take so much.”
My voice was faint as I answered, “Will I live?”
He laughed softly. “Of course, but you will be weak. You might sleep as long as I do this time.”
My eyes were already beginning to lose focus when he reclined beside me and pulled the covers up to my chin.
“I will build a fire,” he assured me as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And I will unlock the door. If Luther comes up here before morning, it would not look good for us to be behind locked doors together.”
The mattress moved slightly as he slid back beside me. I could hear the crackling of the fire, and knew I must have drifted off for a few minutes already. I blinked heavily and looked into the beautiful face of the man beside me.
“You look much better,” I whispered.
“Thank you,” he said. He pulled the covers up over my shoulder again, and pulled me against him.
*****
When I awoke the next morning, a storm rumbled outside. I checked the clock and saw I had still overslept, though it was several hours before Dracula would be awake. I felt weak, and I was starving. I staggered a bit as I walked to the closet and slipped on a pair of jeans and a dark blue t-shirt.
As I reached the foot of the stairs, I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was hungry. Luther was complaining loudly to Richard that he couldn’t find the sugar, and he hoped everybody liked bacon, because that’s what he was cooking.
“Good morning.” They both jumped at the sound of my voice. “How are you feeling?” I asked Richard. He assured me he was better than the day before.
“Where’s Alek?” Luther asked.
“He’s probably sleeping in, I had him up late last night.” Luther raised an eyebrow and I informed him that I asked Alek’s help interpreting a dream.
“It’s only nine o’clock,” he commented while rummaging in the refrigerator. “I’m surprised you’re awake on a day like this. Marco always says this is sleeping weather.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But I’ve slept too much lately. I needed to get up.”
“There’s no such thing as too much sleep,” Richard said.
I got shakily to my feet and helped Luther with breakfast, mostly because I wanted something besides bacon. After waffles and some fruit, Richard said he was going back home. I told him to call me if he needed to talk. I walked him to the door, and we parted company with our usual hug. I didn’t feel right about Richard leaving, especially not after the way he acted the day before. I was worried about him, but Richard was a grown man, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do about it.
*****
Two days later, I was getting ready for my date with Marco, and noticed the bite marks on my thigh were still visible, though only slightly. With the help of Kat, I had selected a sexy gown for the evening. It was so deeply blue, it was nearly black, and made of silk. The back dipped low, stopping just short of indecent exposure. The neckline was just low enough to reveal a taste of cleavage, and the little straps that held the dress in place were barely visible. I also wore what was in my opinion, one of the neatest inventions in years, a strapless, backless bra. It was literally suctioned to my breasts, and did a remarkable job of keeping everything where it needed to be. I had just slipped on a pair of dark blue heels I’d bought for the occasion when I heard a knock at the door.
I had time for one last glance in the mirror. My short hair was worn in its usual style, with the ends tipped out slightly. It was a bit wild, but seemed to suit me. My makeup was not as conservative as usual. I’d gone heaver on the eyeliner, giving my hazel eyes a smoky appearance that I hoped looked sexy. Dracula had left an hour before for his hearing with the council, and Luther was at club Red, Marco’s other popular establishment which I had been startled to find was named after me. Since I was sure Alek would be in the dungeon, that left Marco waiting for me to open the door.
After grabbing the small matching purse, I hurried down the stairs. I noticed the velvet scarf Kat had insisted was perfect with the dress and snatched it from the back of the sofa on my way out.
I couldn’t have asked for a better view. Marco was leaning in the window of a sleek silver sports car. The black dress pants he wore clung to the curve of his ass like a mold. I was rather disappointed when he stood up, but only until he turned around. His eyes sparkled as he walked toward me with a bouquet of red roses. I never thought I would see anyone who looked better in black than Dracula, but I was wrong. The black suit Marco wore must have been made for him. The top few buttons of his shirt were open, and I had a burning desire to crawl inside that opening to find the man beneath. Sex incarnate walked up my steps and handed me the roses.
“Hello, Red.” His customary greeting seemed to move me more than usual that night. I reached up and ran my fingers through his soft dark hair and pulled him toward me. I kissed him gently, but passionately. I had first met Marco nine years ago, and I couldn’t remember a time during those nine years that I hadn’t wanted him. My heart fluttered as I pulled back to look at the handsome man standing before me. I would probably wake up soon, but that was all right. For now, he was mine.
“Hello, sexy,” I purred, in mock imitation of his greeting to me.
“Are you ready?” he asked with a smile.
Once again, I realized if he asked me to get naked in the frigid night air on my front porch, I couldn’t refuse him. I was afraid of not being able to say no to Marco. But at the same time, I trusted him not to ask for more than I would be willing to give. My resistance was weakening along with my knees, and it was only a matter of time before we crossed one line or another.
I placed my small cold hand inside of his, and was instantly warmed in more ways than one. Just the feel of his hand touched me in places he had never been, including my heart.
“I’m afraid of falling,” I said without thinking.
Fortunately, Marco thought I meant the steps, and offered me his arm for support as we walked to the car.
“I don’t think I’d have much success walking in heels either,” he teased as he helped me with the door.
While he walked to the other side, I took a deep breath and told myself I should be more careful with what I said. We were going to his apartment above club Red for dinner, before coming back to The Dread Moon to make an appearance later in the evening. I listened quietly while Marco told me the latest goings on in the pack and tried to school my heart to beat more slowly. Club Red is a good drive from my house. We were halfway there when Marco took my hand and asked, “Are you all right?” He pressed the back of my hand to his lips. “You’re trembling,” he whispered.
“I’m terrified,” I confessed.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Red.”
“I’m not.” It was true. Marco was not what I was afraid of. “I’m afraid of what I feel every time I’m near you.”
He continued to hold my hand, but refrained from pushing the subject further as we finished our drive. Part of me kept wondering if it was wrong to have such feelings so soon after Alfred’s departure. But then I remembered my feelings toward Marco were not new, I had simply suppressed them in order to move on with my life. But there was no suppressing what I felt when I looked at the man sitting beside me. The full moon was a week away, and Marco’s usual sexy scent was even stronger. I wanted to jump him in the middle of the interstate traffic. I respected his wise decision to take things slowly, but I was beginning to think I wasn’t capable of waiting too long.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The parking lot of club Red was nearly deserted. The only car I recognized was Luther’s. Marco opened my door as he sighed, “Ah, no press.”
“Well, if there’s no press and no pack members to speak of, what exactly are we doing here?”
His laugh was everything you’d expect from the devil as he answered, “We’re having dinner in my apartment.”
Once we were
inside, Luther met us at the foot of the stairs to inform Marco that dinner would be served shortly. Marco thanked him and Luther turned away without so much as an obscene gesture. Marco must have threatened him.
Marco placed his hand against the bare skin of my lower back and led the way to his office. A large mahogany desk stood near the back of the room. Behind the desk and along one wall were rows upon rows of law books from both planets, and history books detailing different wars.
To my left sat a large, tan leather sofa with dark suede pillows nearly covering it from view. Against the opposite wall was a matching chair and ottoman with a deep crimson blanket flung across it that reflected in the highly polished wood of the floor. The chair was pulled alongside a black marble fireplace. The last time I had visited Marco’s office, we were in the middle of a scorching summer. But due to the cold that night, a fire blazed in the hearth, casting a haunting light over the room which reflected in his dark eyes.
He walked with a smile to the bookshelf along one wall and removed a copy of Call of the Wild. I watched as he pressed a small indention in the wood and the bookshelf slid to one side to reveal a staircase. The top of the staircase opened directly into Marco’s living room. It was a large loft-style apartment covering nearly the entire space with one expansive room. There was a half-wall divider that separated the kitchen and a massive dungeon-style door at the far end.
The walls had been torn away to display the faded reddish brown brick beneath. The floor was made of old wooden planks that looked well taken care of. I had only seen windows like his in pictures before. They were made of wrought iron and consisted of at least fifty small square panes each. The color scheme matched that of his office. The windows were adorned with lush red, expensive looking drapes, each with a large golden cord to pull them shut. Tall iron candle holders were scattered about including a few candelabras, all holding cream colored candles, whose soft light filled the room. A fireplace stood near the entrance along the same wall as the hearth in his office. This one was not marble, but was made of the same brick as the walls. In front of the fireplace was an empty patch of floor. Here a blanket of deep red velvet had been spread, just out of reach of any sparks that might leap from the fire.
The room was divided by the placement of the furniture into three areas. The space near the fireplace had a long dark leather sofa draped with a cream blanket that looked to be made of fur. Matching cream colored pillows were thrown at odd angles across the leather. In place of a matching chair, there was a massive scattering of faded red and gold pillows. This tied in with the piece along the mantle. There, a faded red peapod shaped basket with black iron accents held a collection of cream, brown, and gold décor balls. Beside this lay several boughs of crooked willow dyed a deep crimson, and layered with pussy willow.
In the far left corner stood a lamp that looked like an odd flower curving over a tan suede chair and ottoman. Like the one downstairs, this chair had a crimson blanket thrown over one arm and draping over part of the floor. With its back turned to the fireplace, and the small reading area sat a blood red love seat with faded gold, almost bronze colored pillows. This area in particular drew my attention as it had during my earlier visit, for on the wall in a large space between the windows hung an enormous painting of me.
On my first visit, Marco had told me that in the year he had kept my great, great grandfather’s journal before delivering it to me, Mathias had told him where to buy the canvas. He had also directed him where to find the proper paints. The canvas was enchanted, and designed to show whoever used it the deepest desires of their heart. Just like last time, I was at a loss for words.
In the portrait, I stood so that only my back and the left side of my face were visible. To my chest I clutched a long crimson piece of material that seemed to flow over the canvas. It draped around me so that my entire back could be seen. My head was tilted slightly downward as if I were in the process of turning back to someone who stood behind me. The painting was so life-like that I expected to see myself finish that turn at any moment. A tall ornately carved candle holder stood on either side adding their soft illumination to the revealing portrait.
Marco’s warm hand against my back brought me to reality. “I managed to persuade your uncle Aldan to enchant a few bottles of wine.” He smiled. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” I laughed. My mood seemed somehow lighter at the mention of my recently discovered relative. “It will be nice to get drunk like a normal person.”
I followed Marco to the blanket in front of the fire. I threw the scarf and my purse on the sofa and slipped off my shoes. The dress was long enough that I could sit comfortably without flashing the fact that my underwear also matched. Marco poured us both a glass of chilled red wine, as I stretched my feet toward the fire.
“I have to admit, this beats the hell out of chocolates,” I said with a smile.
The mood was more relaxed than I expected. Even though I was very attracted to Marco, there was no pressure to rip his clothes off in front of the blazing fire. I just enjoyed being with him. From the look on his face, I think he felt the same way about me. Our conversation didn’t really stick to one subject. We discussed trying to get Kat to hook up with everyone from Beau to Jeremiah down at The Dread Moon.
“I can hear him now, ‘dis be one crazy bitch mon,’” Marco said with a laugh.
“That’s mean,” I said, laughing as Luther came up the stairs.
He was carrying a tray of food, and looked every bit the charming waiter. The wonderful smell reminded me I had been too nervous to eat before, and my stomach picked that moment to voice its protest.
“Apparently, you’re right on time,” Marco commented with a smile.
Luther placed the tray on the blanket between us. Marco had been served another rare steak, and it looked as though Luther remembered one of my favorite seafood dishes, garlic shrimp with angel hair pasta. Marco thanked him and asked that he come back when it was time to leave for The Dread Moon. Luther left once more without an obscene gesture. I was beginning to feel snubbed.
Dinner with Marco was one of the most pleasant experiences I’d had in a long time. We laughed and talked, and he made fun of the way I ate pasta. He insisted, “It was meant to be slurped.” However, I usually cut pasta to avoid slurping in public.
After dinner and several glasses of wine, we were both feeling pretty good when Marco moved closer to me and said, “I’d like to kiss you.”
“I’m not stopping you,” I teased.
“Maybe we should sit on the couch,” he suggested. “It would be too easy to tackle you on the floor.”
I laughed more from the wine than his expression. One look told me how serious Marco’s comment was. I flopped down on the couch with a swish of fabric. The moment Marco joined me, his lips seemed to devour mine. What began as a gentle kiss became a tangle of lips, and teeth, and tongue. He began to slide the silk dress farther up my thigh and I stopped him.
“Please,” he begged, “let me touch you.”
He kissed me more gently as his hand roamed up my inner thigh. The warmth of Marco’s hand through the thin lace panties set me on fire, and I arched hungrily against him. He ran two fingers between the soft fabric and my body and began to rub against me. Only moments before I had been cold, even with the fire. Now I was breaking a sweat.
Just when I thought he only meant to tease, Marco slipped one finger inside me. My cry of pleasure was drowned in his kiss. With a thrill I realized this was the first time that any part of Marco had penetrated my body. I wanted more, and I wasn’t the only one.
“Let me taste you,” he whispered against my lips.
I had no objection. If The Big Bad Wolf wanted to eat me, I wasn’t about to stop him. He slid from the couch to a kneeling position in front of me as he flung his jacket onto the floor. Marco placed his hands behind the backs of my knees, and slid me toward him with a hungry growl.
With a hand on either thigh, he slid the d
ress up to my waist.
“What the hell is this?” he growled.
It took me a moment to understand he had found Dracula’s bite.
“Let me explain,” I stammered.
“Make it fast, Red, my patience is wearing thin.”
“Here.” I grabbed his hand, and let Marco see enough of my memory to understand the situation. I let him see that I hadn’t wanted Dracula to starve, and I had worn panties rather than display myself for him. I also made a point of showing Marco the part of my memory where I clearly said, “I am not asking you to have sex with me.”
He pulled back and growled, “All right, fine. But no more. The next time that bastard is hungry, tell him to go suck on someone else.”
“He’s moving out after the hearing,” I said, trying to calm the beast I had obviously agitated.
“Really?” He seemed to brighten. “Good,” he growled.
Before I had a chance to realize Marco intended to go through with what he had been planning, he snatched the lace panties around my ankles and buried his face between my thighs. He made one tentative lick over my skin before devouring me with a tongue that felt too long to be human.
I screamed as Marco pulled my flesh between his teeth with a growl, licking and sucking places that ached for his attention. I could feel the tension building in every muscle as his uncommonly long tongue slipped inside my pussy. I grabbed a handful of his hair and pushed him harder between my legs as I ground my body against his face. Once it seemed that release was within my grasp I heard a startled cry from the staircase.
I turned to see Luther looking pleased and a little embarrassed. Marco snatched his head from underneath my skirt at the same time he pulled the fabric over my thighs. It was both comical and endearing.
“I’m really sorry,” Luther snickered, “but you said I should come get you when it was time to go.”
Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter Series (Boxed Set, Books 1-3) Page 70
